Sonya Blade: Better than Vengeance (Part 2)

She had taken to wearing this belt with little silver rings on it. Bloody stupid if you ask me, no point and it just got in the way. I didn’t have any use for it, so I let go of her hair, grabbed the thing and yanked it off her. Broke easy, one of the rings flew off, and I threw it away.

She must have been feeling lonely, cuz when I let go of her hair, her head just plopped right down against my shoulder. Kinda sweet, actually, like she wanted a little hug.

I patted her bum, “There, there, love! You just have a little lie down on old Kano. I’ll make sure nobody bothers ya!”

Then I pulled her tights down.

They didn’t call them tights for nothing. Things were squeezing that round bum of hers so tight, they were practicality inside her. I had to pull down one side, get them down nice and far so they didn’t just pop back up, then go to the other side and do the same thing. They didn’t give ground easy, kept slipping up a little, that ass of hers so swollen and sticking out you had to really push to get that spandex where you wanted it.

On the bright side, though, when you get those leggings down under that blushing bubble of a bum, they tucked under nice and neat and stayed there. That butt of hers is like a pair of Christmas hams pressed together; there was no way the tights were popping back up once they were wadded underneath.

Once I had the tights down, I had a nice long look and some even nicer, longer squeezes.

She had those athletic sort of knickers on, gray at the front, with nothing but white elastic on the sides and another gray bit in the back that made a little triangle at top and then went right into her ass crack. Good for range of motion, no panty lines showing under the tights, and also good for showing off those porcelain cheeks.

That sort of craftsmanship deserves appreciation and I had me a good, juicy feel of that. Gripped like I was holding on for dear life, jerked that full moon around a bit, then gave it a proper smack. Without the tights holding them, those cheeks bounced like a happy fat man.

The smack woke her up a bit too. She made a noise and I felt her tense up. Even started trying to pick her head up.

“All right, there, Sonya?” I said.

She mush-mouth mumbled back at me, so I gave her bum another smack to liven her up.

Then I started explaining the facts of life.

“Listen here now. Someone comes in here, tries to put me out of business?” said I, “They die. All their goods, property, women, they’re mine then. Ya got me? Funny thing is, you ARE goods, property, AND a woman!”

She got her head up enough to look at me then but didn’t look like she was getting the picture yet. So, I gave that bum a right hard grip, like a pit bull. Just to help, you know.

“That puts us in a conundrum, doesn’t it?” I told her, “How am I meant to do the proper thing here? I can’t cut your throat AND have all these—” I gave her arse a squeeze, “assets, can I?”

I gave her a moment to chime in, but she wasn’t being very helpful with suggestions right then. Just squinted at me with her mouth open, like she was trying to remember where she knew me from.

Blondes, eh?

I could have waited all day for her to wrap her little head around the situation, but instead I just bent down and picked her up over my shoulder. Gave her a bounce, smacked her bum, carried her off easy as can be. I like doing that, you know. Makes me feel like a right ripping Viking!

Something about being up like that got her a bit out of her funk. As I waltzed back to where the rest of my boys were, she said some things that almost sounded angry.

“Nrf… pud me… down… gert… ferking… ash ole… down! Doppit!”

If I’d known putting her over my shoulder would wake her up like that, I’d have done it earlier! She didn’t fancy it at all, kept kicking her legs, tried to curse some. You could tell she was feeling rotten, wasn’t exactly in danger of escaping, but she was bloody angry. She has a temper, does Sonya. Part of the reason she’s a pain in the ass, part of the reason she’s fun.

Didn’t help her much, though. She wasn’t going anywhere except to rejoin the party.

By the time we got back to where her special forces knobs had been scrapping with my boys, it was all over but for the fun. None of hers were left standing and mine were right back to what they were doing when the whole mess started: drinking, counting the loot, fighting each other, breaking things. The only difference now was they had a heap of new toys to muck around with.

Some of them were playing around with the fancy night vision the ops boys had brought, running around wearing them or just putting them on their heads like a hat. One big fella was trying to bend the barrel of a rifle around his head, a few others giving him a cheer. A bloke from one lot threw a flash grenade into the middle of another lot and they had themselves a little row. Another couple had put on whole uniforms and were marching around saluting everyone, until one of them got a bottle broken on his head.

Sometimes my boys make me so proud, it brings a tear to my eye.

I got a good cheer when I came in with Sonya kicking, that fine tail poking up off my shoulder. Pissed her off even more, actually. She got some fire back in her voice, did a lot of yelling, twisting around to try to get out of those wires on her wrists.

“Pud me down! Fawking kerl… alla you! Fawking kill! Raaah! Pud me down! Fawking kill you!”

With her yelling, my boys laughing and cheering, and the music ripping like a chainsaw on a cinder block, it was bloody loud by the time I got to my favorite chair. Could barely hear myself think and I wanted some quiet for this next part. So, being the gentleman I am, I told them:

“Cut that fucking music and shut the FUCK up before I burn one of you fucks alive!”

My boys can be a bit rowdy, but they know when I make a threat, I mean it literally. Especially that one, since I did it on a weekly basis. They got quiet real fast and someone yanked the stereo’s plug out of the wall. Before I could even count to three, the only sound in there was Sonya kicking and yelling at me.

I was a little disappointed. I’d had a hankering for torching someone.

“Boys and girls,” said I, “Say hello to Captain Sonya Blade! Anyone that’s been with me for very long knows this little Sheila has wanted a piece of me for years! She’s the one we have to thank for the festivities today!”

They whistled and cheered, laughed, called things out to her. She kept yelling, telling me to put her down, that she would kill me, to put her down, that she would kill me…

“I said SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I politely reminded them.

They got quiet again and before I could rationalize setting one of them on fire. Getting pretty quick on the draw, this lot was.

“Now then!” said I, “Since she went to so much trouble and expense to give us a bit of fun, I’ve decided to offer her an honorary membership to our exclusive association! You can never have too many blonde pieces of ass, can ya?!”

That got another laugh. Sonya kept yelling, of course.

“Naturally, we need to negotiate the particulars,” I said, then leaned back to say to Sonya, “What do you say, love? How would you like a new career as an entertainer for the venerable Black Dragon?”

Now you might have a heart attack from surprise, but she didn’t think about it long before answering.

“Fawk you!”

“Good!” I said back, “That’s what I hoped you’d say!”

Then, faster than you could say ‘please, dear god, stop!’, I sat down and plonked her over my knees, ass up.

The boys started making noise right away, cheering and yelling, and I let them get as loud as they liked. They knew what was coming.

Sonya, on the other foot, hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

Now that she was down off my shoulder, she was fighting harder than ever, bucking and carrying on, kicking her legs out, thinking this was her chance to escape. Problem for her was she was fighting me the wrong way. She was trying give me a good knee in the leg or roll herself off my lap, but she couldn’t reach me and all I had to do was put a hand on her back to keep her where I wanted her. If she’d wanted to make things more difficult, she should have been more worried about her hind parts.

Her bum was still bouncing around while she kicked, those little gray knickers on. She wouldn’t be needing them anymore, I decided. I took out my knife, slipped it between her skin and her unmentionables, then a little yank snipped that elastic on the sides clean in half. One side, then the other, neat as you like, and then I just grabbed the thong bit and yanked. If I hadn’t cut the waistband off, it would have given her a rutting deep wedgie, but with nothing holding them on they yanked right out from between her legs.

She made a funny noise at that and tried to look over her shoulder. She was starting to catch on, even looking a little worried.

No one can ever say I’m not an entertainer at heart. With my boys watching, I held up that gray scrap so they could all have a good look. I let them give a good cheer, waved the panties around a bit, then tossed them to the nearest bunch so they could scuffle over them.

I know my audience and they loved it. But they loved what came next even more.

“Arright there, Sonya!” I said, “Time for your first performance! Show us that stage presence and make sure you scream nice and loud for the blokes in the cheap seats!”

And then I walloped her ass so hard it would have smacked the freckles off a ginger.

I know what you’re thinking. This is Sonya Blade, bad ass fighter, special forces muckity muck, certified toughie. No way a smack on the bum is going to have her screaming uncle.

You’d be wrong. Being drunk numbs a lot of things, but that stinging type of pain still lights up the old noggin like a lightning bolt. I’ll admit she’s tough, but she wasn’t ready and she didn’t know how much it would hurt neither. Not to mention, no one can lay into a girl’s ass like I can.

That very first smack, she squealed like a schoolgirl.

Oh, she cursed up a storm afterwards. Even as loud as the boys were laughing, I could hear her screaming all sorts of nasty, unladylike things. She kicked her legs like she was trying to run a mile, her mouth going the entire time. And she kept on until I gave her another smack on the backside. She took that one a bit better but had bite her lip to keep from squealing again. Kept her from saying much.

“Now, now!” I told her, “No pouting, captain! Show us that military bearing!”

When I smacked her next, she decided not to make a sound. So, I did it again… and again. I let her have it and that perky little arse was jumping like grease on a skillet. It wasn’t pale for very long, got itself into a lovely, cheery shade of pink. If she’d had a forensic team, she could have got my prints off the marks I left on her karate-toned ass!

Now Sonya was doing her best to play tough, but I wasn’t buying it. Every time I smacked her I could feel her tense up. Her legs kicked a bit more, her head popped up. I was having a grand old time too. I could have been at that all day, unlike her. It was like battering down a door, every wallop hurting just a bit more, it getting harder and harder to control herself. It was only a matter of time before that door swung open.

After twenty licks or so, and after her backside was red as a fire engine, she finally let out a good yell.

“There we go!” I yelled back, “Go on, Captain Blade!”

She screamed and cursed at me, but the next smack she shrieked like a kettle boiling. Hurt my ears, such a high pitch.

Of course, that didn’t stop me from flattening that bum of hers with another slap.

“I’m gonna spank this ass into a new shape!” I told her, “And I’m gonna keep doing it until you tell me what I wanna hear! You wanted the Black Dragon? You got him, girly!”

I’ll be honest, I lost myself in my work around that point. You can’t really blame me.

Remember when I said there’s some things sweeter than revenge? Well, right then, that was sweeter. Little miss all-America chasing after me for revenge, only for me to turn it right around on her when she thought she had me. Beating her down, ripping her clothes up, then flat out spanking her into a screaming mess. I don’t think anyone has ever been as fired up as I was right then. If I could bottle what I was feeling right then, I’d drink myself to death on it.

I never wanted to stop. Couldn’t last forever, though.

At some point, the water works turned on. It started soft, just some tears coming down her cheeks, but then there were the sobs. She wasn’t yelling angry-like any more after that, more shrieking, crying. That was the beginning of the end for old Captain Blade.

Once the tears started, it wasn’t long before she started telling me to stop. Threatening me to stop at first, then it went down to demanding. Then she said ‘please’. Then she yelled it with just a bit more desperation. And then… begging. Miss law, order, justice, and the American way was begging, BEGGING, me. Me, Kano. Begging ME for mercy.

Shang Tsung acts like he’s a big dog because he can take the soul out of a bloke. You wanna know if you’ve really taken someone’s soul? Get em to beg their worst enemy to stop tanning their sexy little spec ops ass.

------

“Good times, those were. Hard to get much better than that.” Kano chuckled, “I’m not usually the type to wander off down memory lane, you know. Don’t know why I went on and on like that. Maybe it’s because I’m feeling a bit of that old déjà vu…”

As the smuggler and crime lord swaggered into the main room of his den of sin, a young figure kicked and fought on his shoulder. Her hands were bound behind her back with her own belt and though the young woman was remarkably athletic, there was little she could do to free herself from her brutish captor. One arm over her thighs kept her from getting any leverage on her kicks and no amount of struggling could work her wrists free of the biting grip of her combat belt.

“Yeah, laugh it up!” she yelled, tossing her blonde head, “Fucking creep! Put me down and I’ll fucking END you!”

Kano chuckled again, giving the girl’s protruding rump a smack, “Yep! This all feels real familiar!”

Indeed, it was a similar scene to that from years ago. The men of the Australian criminal’s gang were messing around with the gear they had stolen off the bodies of another special forces strike team, drinking, shining lasers into each other’s eyes, with loud music playing in the background. The individuals were all different, the room was more opulent due to Kano’s continued success as a criminal, but the set pieces were all the same.

Kano’s blonde captive continued to cry out and fight as the smuggler carried her to a more decorative, comfortable throne than the metal chair of yesteryear. Welded out of steel, it was decorated with its owners name and carvings of naked women in different states of distress. Inviting, fluffed with red velvet cushions, no one other than the king of the Black Dragons would dare take that seat. Not if they wanted to remain unimmolated.

Kano strode to his seat, bounced the girl off his shoulder, then sat down and dropped her across his lap. The landing made her grunt and quieted her protests for a moment.

“There we are!” the cyborg villain sneered, placing a hand on her back, “Perfect. Ya know, I know I’m going to enjoy this, but am I going to enjoy it more than the first time?”

The blonde kicked her legs but was unable to free herself.

“Will it be more satisfying to smack the daylights out of the piece of tail that wanted revenge on me for her partner?” Kano’s red eye glinted, “Or…”

He worked down the leggings of the girl’s dark blue combat suit.

“Will I get a little more out of the mall rat,” the villain sneered, “Coming after me for how I handled her mummy?”

Cassie Cage jerked her head up, her pretty face a mask of fury as she tried to glare over her shoulder at the man that held her mother as his prisoner. She had her mother’s sharp blue eyes and bleach blonde hair, kept in a tight bun rather than a ponytail. Not quite as stern-featured as Sonya, the up-and-coming spec ops officer took a bit more after her father in terms of attitude and facial expression, although right now she was showing her mother’s temper.

“I’m going to rip your fucking head off, you creepy Aussie jack ass!” she snarled, “You think this is fucking over?! Get your—FUCK YOU!”

Kano just grinned and ignored the young woman, working down her pink satin underwear.

“Heh, now I’m really starting to see the resemblance,” the villain gloated, “You’ve got your mum’s bum for sure. Round as a couple of footballs pressed together.”

Cassie gritted her teeth, blushing despite herself, trying to convince herself this wasn’t happening. Once she’d found out her mom was in Kano’s possession, she’d spent years tracking him down, but hadn’t heard the story of how Sonya went down until a few minutes earlier. He had to have been lying, she’d told herself. But now that she was over his knee, showing off her bare butt, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

“You think this freaks me out, you pathetic shit stain?!” she snapped at him.

“Oh, I KNOW it does, princess!” Kano told her, leaning back to reach behind his throne, “But that’s a bit beside the point.”

Digging up another bottle of brown moonshine, he pulled the cork out with his teeth, spit it across the floor, then turned the bottle over the bared rump in his lap.

“HE-EY!” Cassie jumped, eyes going wide as the liquid poured over her protruding moons. It stung more than she expected and, though she would never admit it, made her blush a bit deeper.

Gritting her teeth, she let out a wordless cry of frustration and kicked with all her might.

All she managed to do was make her rump bounce for Kano’s entertainment.

“You and your mum both liked to talk tough,” the smuggling kingpin sneered, “But you’ve come to the wrong house selling that sugar, sweetheart. I’m not even thinking about whether you’re scared or not.”

Cassie snarled and bucked, shaking her head around like an angry mare.

“What I’m thinking about,” Kano raised his palm, “Is if you’ll last as long as mommy dearest before your crying your little eyes out.”

The villain’s muscular arm swung down, his palm striking the protruding butt with a resounding pop.

“AAAAAAAH!” Cassie screamed, “FUCK YOU!”

“Not yet, love,” Kano drew his palm back once more, “But soon. Maybe a menage trois with mother and daughter, eh?”

“YOU FU—AAAAAUUUGGHHH!”

Cassie bucked up, her mouth gaping wide as she screamed. The stinging pain shot through her, only exacerbated by the booze making her skin shine. It was almost as sharp as the humiliation stabbing her in the heart.

After her scream, she tried to yell something else, only for another blow to land before she could form words.

“AAAAAAGGHHH!”

“You Blade girlies,” Kano spoke over her cry of pain as he spanked her again, “You think you’re special, dontcha? Better than all the other girls working in me clubs, eh?”

Another pair of smacks jerked Cassie’s hips forward and she cried out each time, tears already stinging her eyes.

“Bad ass blonde Rambo barbies!” the villain laughed as he continued his work, “Much too tough to just break like those other little pieces of tail! You know karate!”

Cassie tried to keep her mouth shut but blow after blow forced the screams out of her, the pain starting to overwhelm her pride.

“You two may have more skills than them,” Kano admitted, “But sheer guts? Toughness? Grit? You’ve got nothing on me OR them, sweetheart.”

The young woman tried to protest but couldn’t get out a word. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her butt blazing with agony.

“That’s how I got your mum in the end,” Kano grinned, “And surprise, surprise… her spunky daughter ain’t one bit different.”

His words pounded their way into Cassie’s mind, resounding with each biting smack. Each one hurt worse than the next, leaving her unable to think. She simply couldn’t take it.

“PLEASE!” she screamed before squealing as another blow rang out.

“And there it is!” Kano chuckled, “You didn’t last nearly as long as your mum, angel. Not. Nearly.”

He punctuated his last two words with another pair of smacks that Cassie shriek, heedless of dignity. There was not a shred of pride in her cries, only sheer, high pitched screams, broken down from a soldier to a little girl.

“PLEASE ST—AAAAAAAP!” she wailed, “PLEEE—EEEAAAAAH! PLEEEEEASE!”

Kano’s red eye glowed, the girl’s reddening bottom gleaming in his metal cheek. The pleading only encouraged him to swing harder and faster, his teeth showing in feral glee. The repeated open-handed strikes stung his own palm, but he didn’t even notice.

“Just as good, though,” he growled to himself, only hearing the plaintive wails as background noise, “Just as bloody satisfying.”

* * *

By the time Kano finished his work, Cassie Cage was a broken thing. Sobbing and shattered, she could barely stop crying long enough to agree to every term the villain offered her: joining her mother in slavery, doing as she was told, entertaining the men, and whatever act he required of her. She didn’t even hesitate.

Kano remained at large. No one could find him unless he wanted to be found and after so much manpower had been wasted, no one really wanted to find him in the first place. Countries made deals with him rather than targeted him and in time he was so obscenely rich he could buy and sell the small countries from which he operated from.

As for Cassie and Sonya, the pair of them never truly accepted their new lives, but they remained where they were regardless, bitter but too afraid of the consequences of rebellion. Their fate was to be dressed in shreds of clothing and chained to Kano’s throne, always the highlight of every party he threw. They picked up dancing quickly as well as… other skills, and it thrilled their master to no end how they would occasionally glare at him, only to look away in shame and defeat.

Kano had known it all along: it was good to be the king.