Spider-Gwen: DIY Defeat (Part 3)

Gwen’s awakening could not have been more violent and disorienting. One moment she was in a deep sleep, then something was snapped under her nose and a sharp, stinging scent rushed right to her languid brain. She shook her head instinctively to try to escape it, then jerked her head up with a gasp. The instant she did, a siren blared and jubilant music rang in her ears, along with canned studio applause. Flashing, colorful lights assaulted her from every side, movement that demanded the addled heroine’s attention.

“Wha-whadthuh?!” she shook her head, her slur fading as she was rudely yanked back to reality, “Wh-what?! What the—WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Hey-hey, sleepy spider!” Screwball proclaimed, “Welcome! Welcome to the internet’s only actually entertaining game show! Filmed live from the Screwball studios in wouldn’t-you-like-to-know, it’s TAKE THAT MASK!”

Bell sound effects rang out along with a kazoo and the flashing lights went crazy.

Her heart pounding, hair standing on end under her mask, Gwen jerked about like a startled cat, her attention yanked towards one set piece after another. She was in a studio in front of a green screen, cameras facing her from all angles, shining lights in her eyes. Above her, fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, proclaiming “Take That Mask!” in flashing, bright pink. On one side of her was a colorful monitor displaying a winking Screwball emoji, while on the other side Screwball herself was beaming and applauding.

Just like the villainess had described, she was on the set of some sort of crazy game show. Gwen herself was behind a podium that came to her waist, which was of course lined with flashing bulbs. Other fluorescent lights hung about, flashing “LOLZ!” or “SWEET!” or “SUBSCRIBE!”.

And naturally, she was strictly bound. Her arms were loop around behind a metal post that was almost as wide as a trashcan and bolted to the floor, wrists secured in steel manacles that had to have been at least six inches thick. Chains looped under her arms, then below and above her breasts, and even around her waist to support her, her feet lifted off the floor and fitted into manacles on either side of the post. The way her chest was pushed out, feet pulled back, she looked almost like a Spider-Woman figurehead on the bow of a ship.

“That’s right, Screwheads!” Screwball threw her hand towards the titular fluorescent lights, “It’s Take That Mask! The game show where our superhero guest answers questions to see if they can keep their mask! I’m your host, the perkulicious, spidernapper, the one and only Screwball!”

Gwen jerked her shoulders and tried to squirm, but she was so securely fastened to the thick post that it was hardly noticeable. She could wiggle her legs a bit, push her chest out, but the chains on her chest and waist were fitted through ringlets in the metal beam holding her in place, not allowed to slide in the slightest. Her struggles rattled the metal links only a bit and there was no way she could break free. The manacles would have held someone like Ms. Marvel, much less her spider strength. Numerous electrodes, the circular adhesive kind they put on people in hospitals, were attached to wires and stuck to her costume, but all her struggles couldn’t even loosen one.

“HNKK!” she grunted and strained, “GRRRNH!”

“And our very special guest today is, of course,” Screwball presented Gwen with a Vannaesque gesture, “Live and in person, the real deal: the sensational Spider-Girl!”

As more canned applause rang out, the young heroine gritted her teeth and pulled with all her might at her cuffs, more out of frustration than with a hope of escape. She jerked her head, her graceful ballet dancer’s muscles flexing beneath the spandex. It hurt, the unforgiving metal digging into her skin, but she was too angry to care.

When she finally gave it up, she gasped for breath, glaring beneath her mask at Screwball.

“Listen… you nutbag, wannabe, internet worshipping psycho!” she snarled, “First of all, I am going to straight up KILL you when I get out of this! Second of all, it’s Spider-WOMAN! I’m not Spider-Girl, you bubble-headed moron!”

Screwball tilted her head, “Umm… but there’s already two Spiderwomen, Spider-Girl. There’s the red and yellow one with the black hair and the red head with the not-venom outfit.” She perked up, “Oh, and that one who had the ponytail coming out her mask! So, three!”

“There’s already a Spider-Girl too, nimrod!” Gwen yelled back, “Let me down from here and I’ll explain it to you!”

“Mmmm…” The villainess pursed her lips, giving the thought consideration before responding, “Nah, let’s not confuse the viewers. You’re a girl, you’re a spider, so: Spider. Girl. Besides, it’s way cuter!”

“Yeah right!” Gwen scoffed in disgust, “Spider-Man was a teenager when he got started too! Why do I get Spider-Girl and he’s not Spider-B—YAAAAAAAAGH!”

Spider-Woman had noticed the wired electrodes connecting to her costume and restraints; now she learned their purpose. Before she could finish her sentence, electricity ran through those wires and directly into her body, as well as all the metal she was touching, sending her into an agonized rictus. Her head was yanked back and her chest thrust out, body flexing almost like it had when she tried to get free, but now it was involuntary and much more painful. All the blinking lights stayed on as she received the punishing shock, the titular fluorescents turning red for the duration.

After several seconds of straining and cries of pain, the shock ended. The lights went back to flashing merrily and the Take That Mask sign returned to a cheery pink, while Gwen slumped with a gasp, head falling onto her chest.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Screwball turned to skip around the gasping heroine, “Let’s go over the rules of the game!”

As the internet villainess strode around her, Gwen groaned and struggled to raise her head, her body aching after the shock. The electrodes had been placed all over her body in tender, often embarrassing places, feeling like they were burning and pinching even as her muscles worked like she was scrambling for her life. There were two on her ribs, under her arms, one in the small of her back, a few on each breast and, most humiliatingly, several in key places on her crotch. She couldn’t really see them before, but now she’d felt them. It wasn’t even a little fun.

Screwball came around Gwen on the other side of the monitor and waved palm-up towards the screen, once again Vannaesque. The rules of the game popped up in bullet form in pink on cream lettering, with smaller Screwball emojis underneath to fill the space.

“This game is all about questions!” the villainess beamed, “You get points for answering questions correctly and lose points if you answer incorrectly! Or if you don’t answer or refuse to answer, of course! No party poopers!”

She wagged her finger at her captive before continuing.

“There are two types of questions: trivia and… mmm, special secrets!” Screwball paused to giggle, “They’re all worth 25 points and you start with 500! If our guest gets to 1000, they win! And here’s the prizes our Spider-Girl could win today!”

Gwen managed to look at the monitor as the bullet-pointed rules were replaced with a picture of familiar, silver wristbands and a silver belt, set on a velvet turnstile, like in a show room.

“If she gets to 1000 points,” the villainess exclaimed, “She’ll be leaving here with these lovely, custom made web shooters, as well as extra cartridges and a handy dandy tool belt! But that’s not all!”

Gwen squirmed, pulling at her bonds. It was discomforting to realize that while she’d been unconscious and helpless, Screwball had taken her gear from her. Not to mention the annoyance at being given the chance to “win” back things that had been hers to begin with.

The picture on the monitor changed again, swirling around until it showed a random street in New York. It finished with a burst of computer-generated glitter and a cheer.

“She gets an allllll expenses paid trip toooooooo…” Screwball gestured, “The same street I found her in!”

She paused, then leaned towards the camera to give an aside, “And a copy of our home game. But… if her points go down to zero…”

On cue, a three-pronged robotic hook, just like from one of those quarter-eating machines where one tried to pick up a stuffed animal, descended from behind the fluorescent lights. It sank down and stopped right above Gwen’s head to snap-snap its claws together.

It made the heroine jump.

“Then the mask-claw comes down…” Screwball continued, “And off comes out spider’s mask!”

Gwen craned her head back to stare at the silver pincers. They snapped at her again then slowly retracted, going back to their hiding place behind the titular fluorescent sign.

“Right,” Spider-Woman turned her glare back on her captor, “If I win your stupid little game, you’re just going to let me go?”

“Yup!” Screwball chirped, “If you win, you get to skip away with your mask! I already know who you are, so there’s my insurance policy! And who knows, you could even pull it off!”

The villainess turned back to the camera.

“Let’s find out, huh?” the music began playing again, the lights flickering like they were trying to induce a seizure, “You guys wanna see what happens? Then no more waiting around, let’s play!”

Gwen pulled at her bonds again, in annoyance, as Screwball skipped around behind her once more, patting her head on the way. The villainess trotted back to where she had started next to a table with two tall stacks of index cards, one of pink and one of white. She took position behind the table, like a proper game show host, and beamed at the camera.

“Let’s put 500 points on the board!”

A digital display on Gwen’s podium did just that, displaying “Spider-Girl!” scrawled in flowery cursive with little hearts and beneath it: 0500.

“And let’s see what our first question will be!” Screwball gestured to the monitor.

The picture on the monitor changed again, becoming a game wheel with pink and white slices, the white ones noticeably larger than the pink. The digital wheel spun, mostly becoming a blur except for the pointer needle.

Gwen worked at the chains, looking around for a way out of this. She managed to make the links clink and scrape a bit but couldn’t find any slack.

There had to be a way to free herself; there always was. She just had to find it!

The wheel slowed, the different colored tabs becoming clear again, whizzing past the needle, then slowing further. Finally, out of nowhere, it came to an abrupt stop, the needle pointing into the center of a white slice of the circular pie.

“Trivia!” Screwball snatched up a white index card, turning it around to read it, “Let’s see…”

Gwen stopped her struggling to glare furiously at the villainess. It wasn’t visible from behind her mask, but her rigid posture was clear, the way her fists clenched speaking volumes.

“You are SO thrashed…” she growled.

Screwball just grinned and read from the card.

“Okay, Spider-Girl!” the villainess said, “I am a Spanish nobleman who’s a bit Robin Hood and was played in 1920 by Douglas Fairbanks! Who am I?”

Gwen started to snap something back but stopped herself. The last thing she wanted to do was play this game, but she had a pretty shrewd idea of what would happen if she didn’t. She’d been in enough of these situations to know that shock she was given was just a taste; Screwball wouldn’t play any game with her that didn’t have a dangerous edge to it.

Unfortunately, even if she wanted to play, she didn’t know the answer to this question. She had no idea who Douglas Fairbanks was and being from another universe she didn’t even know if she SHOULD know him, or even if the character he played existed in her world. She’d started a life on this world, but that didn’t mean she’d caught up with every pop culture reference!

Screwball grinned at her, tapping the card in her palm, “Tick tock, Spider-Girly!”

Gwen shifted in her bonds, trying to come up with a possible answer. Nothing seemed like it had any chance of being right. Failing that, she tried to come up with a way to stall for time, but nothing came to mind there either.

Eventually she just shook her head and sighed.

“Look,” she grumbled, “I don’t know, oka-AAAAAAAAAY!?”

The diodes lit her up once more, thrusting her chest out and her hips back, a rictus that showed off all her curves. The pain stabbed into her with the coldness of a tooth ache but burned her with the same aching pain as tortured muscles. She cried out, unable to stop violently twitching and arching in a lewd display of agony.

“Sorry,” Screwball grinned apologetically, “The correct answer was the masked bandito Zorro. Douglas Fairbanks played Zorro in the famous nonspeaking film, the Mark of Zorro!”

While Gwen cried out and writhed, her captor calmly set the card to the side.

“Remember, no answer still loses you 25 points!” the villainess told the stricken heroine, “So, let’s go ahead and fix that…”

Gwen’s digital score blinked out, then reappeared as 475. Just as it did, the shock finally ended. She sagged with a small cry and immediately began gasping for air, shoulders heaving.

“Oh, bee tee dubs!” Screwball turned back towards the camera with a bright smile, “If she loses points, she gets a LEETLE negative reinforcement!” she held up forefinger and thumb to demonstrate ‘a little’, “Just an itsy, bitsy electric shock up her waterspout!”

Spider-Woman groaned, slowly lifting her head to glare at her captor.

“Ha…” she rasped, “F-freaking… ha…”

Screwball giggled, “Oh, you’ll get a reward if you get one right too! I’m not THAT mean! It just keeps things a little more interesting for the people at home!”

She patted Gwen apologetically on the shoulder. The heroine was still aching too much to react.

“Can’t believe I almost forgot to explain that!” the chipper villainess turned back to the center camera, “So! One question and Spider-Girl is at 475 points! Let’s see what’s next, oh magic Screwball wheel!”

Obeying it’s mistress, the digital wheel spun again, pink and white blending together.

Grunting, Gwen wiggled her wrists, trying to peer over her shoulder at her restraints. They were solid. From where she was, she couldn’t even see a way out of the room they were in. She was stuck, propped up and displayed like one of those weird dear heads people mounted on their walls. A sense of utter helplessness made her squirm. She tried to force it away, but it weighed on her, nagging at the back of her mind.

The wheel gradually slowed, then came to a sudden stop as whatever algorithm that controlled the wheel made its choice. Once again, it stopped in the dead center of one of the white tiles.

“Trivalicious!” Screwball snapped up one of the white cards, “Hmm… This movie, starring Leonardo Dicaprio, was based on the last novel of the famous Three Musketeers series by Alexandree Dumbass!”

Gwen’s head popped up. She had expected all the questions to be purposefully impossible for her to answer, just a way to taunt her until the villainess took her mask. But she actually knew the answer to this one.

“It’s the—the Man in the Iron Mask!”

As the hopeful heroine gave her answer, a victory bell dinged, the fluorescent lights flashing.

“Ooh, that is co-REKT!” Screwball cried, “Right on! Good job, Spider-Girly! You get 25 points and you are right back in the game!”

Gwen’s digital score blanked out then reappeared as 500. She sighed with relief. Maybe she wouldn’t have to figure a way out of this. Maybe she could actually win this game.

“Aaaaaand!” Screwball grinned, “As promised! A little reward for playing!”

Spider-Woman had forgotten about the reward part. She was starting to wonder about what it could be, when the electrodes went to work again, but on a much lower setting.

This time the current sent through her was throbbing and low, stimulating like a deep massage. On most of her body it just felt like her muscles were twitching pleasantly, but the ones on the sensitive places between her legs took her breath away. Her toes curled, mouth gaping wide and stretching her mask, body clenching in a similar, but less violent way than before.

“AA-AA-AAAH…!” Gwen yelped, thighs clenching, knees struggling to pinch together.

Screwball covered her mouth to hide her giggle as she watched her heroine’s startled, faux-agonized reaction. Once she got herself under control, she approached her writhing prisoner and turned back to the camera.

“Oooh, she likes it!” the villainess tittered, stopping beside the stricken spider, “You Screwheads at home can’t see, but I put some of those sticky electric things on… well, I’ll let you guess. When I control the juice a little differently, it feels pretty nice. Not that I recommend trying it at home!”

As her captor explained, Gwen continued to wriggle, gripped by intense sensation that in its way was more traumatic than pain. She wanted to protest, but whenever she opened her mouth all she could force out was a squeak or a yelp as another throb of feeling rushed through her. It strained on her, stressing, pulling her back and forward between wanting it to stop… and wanting it to never, ever stop.

When it did stop, the heroine felt a swell of relief and disappointment at the same time.

“Ohhh…” she moaned, chin dropping down to rest on her chest. She was left feeling warm and pleasant, a happy afterglow, body still twitching as the aftershocks of intense pleasure rippled through her.

Screwball giggled again and rested her palm on the back of Gwen’s head. She petted fondly, smoothing her fingers down the back of the heroine’s neck.

“That was nice, right?” she cooed, continuing to pet, “See? This game can be fun for you too! So do your best, mkay?”

Gwen was glad she had the mask right then, because underneath she could feel her cheeks burning. Torment wasn’t exactly a new trick for a super villain to pull on a captured hero, but she hadn’t expected THAT. Neither was she sure how to handle it. It was harder to be angry now than when she was intense pain. At that moment, all she felt was warm, fuzzy, and massively embarrassed.

After a few deep breaths, she jerked her head from Screwball’s hand, glaring bitterly.

“G-get bent…” she growled half-heartedly, “Freaking psy-psycho…”

The bitter response not dampening her enthusiasm in the slightest, Screwball gave her captive’s head a jaunty pat.

“Okie dokie, Spidey-Okie!”

With an exaggerated leap, she hopped back behind the table, resuming her hostess position.

“On with the game, folks!” the villainess gestured towards the monitor, “Let’s give that wheel a spin!”

On cue, the digital wheel spun again, the slices blurring, then slowed and abruptly stopped. But this time the needle landed on one of the slender pink slices of the wheel.

“OoooOOOoooo!” Screwball sang with child-like glee, “It landed on pink… that means we get to ask our guest about a special secret!”

Gwen narrowed her eyes behind her mask, not liking the sound of that or the mischievous grin directed towards her. She squirmed again in her bonds, hoping that maybe something had shaken loose.

The villainous internet personality daintily plucked a card from the pink stack, directing her grin back to the camera.

“These questions could be clues to Spider-Girl’s true, normal, non-super identity,” she explained, “Orrrrrr it could be something… let’s just say, she wouldn’t normally want to tell people. Either way, pay attention, Screwheads! This is going to be spicy!”

Her throat tightened and Gwen swallowed to try to loosen it back up. She definitely didn’t like the sound of that. She couldn’t answer any questions that might give someone an idea who she really was. She could lie, but Screwball had already said she knew who she was; she’d probably taken Gwen’s mask off while she was unconscious and already knew the answer. A lie would get her shocked, no answer would get her shocked, so she was going to get shocked no matter what happened.

Gwen wriggled, desperately looking for something to use to her advantage. She HAD to get out of there.

“So…” Screwball teased, slowly turning over the card to read it, “Spider-Girl…”

On seeing what the question was, the villainess started to giggle. She had to bite her lip for a moment to control herself before reading aloud.

“S-Spider-Girl,” her lips warped as she struggled to keep from laughing, “what color PANTIES are you wearing right now?”

Gwen’s head jerked towards the villainess. Her mask hid her blush, her shocked eyes, but not her wide-open mouth. For a second, she thought she’d misheard. Had the villainess really just asked… what color her underwear were?!

Any doubt she’d had evaporated when she saw how Screwball was giggling at her reaction.

“EWWW!” Gwen shrieked, “GROSS! KEEP YOUR FREAK—EEEEEEEENG!”

While Spider-Woman’s body locked up once more, writhing in electricity-induced agony, her captor cackled herself sick. She leaned on the table, shoulders shaking, then finally dropped her head onto the top of stack of pink cards, laughing helplessly.

“Ohh… ohhh, sweetie…” she cooed apologetically, even as she continued to giggle, “Ohh…”

About the time Screwball managed to control herself enough to lift her head, the shock finally stopped and Gwen sagged, gasping for breath.

“Awwww…” the villainess cooed, her voice still bouncing with mirth.

She stepped over to Gwen and lay her hand on the girl’s heaving shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid the correct answer was white, spider honey!” she cooed, stroking her fondly, “White with cute little pink and purple hearts!”

The wheezing heroine was too tired to react, but not too tired to feel a pang of humiliation. She moaned faintly, not bothering to lift her head.

“Maybe this next one will put you back on the winning side,” Screwball gave her head a pat, “Let’s spin the wheel!”

The wheel made its spinning sound effect but didn’t look at it. Barely expending the energy to raise up, she turned to glare at her captor.

“Keep playing… your stupid games…” she rasped, breasts still heaving, heart pounding from the shock, “The longer you keep me here… the closer I get to getting out of this…” she clenched her fists, “And, I swear to god, when I do…”

“Trivia!” Screwball chirped, ignoring the threat, “Okay, Spider-Girl, what are the names of those two theatrical masks you see on theaters? You know, the one that’s happy and the one that’s sad?”

Gwen bristled, shaking with fury, both at the game and at the fact that she had no clue how to answer that question.

“For the last FREAKING TIME!” she shrieked, almost hysterical, “It’s SPIDER-W—AAAAAAAAAAGH!”

* * *

“That question again is, what was the name of the opera house that was the setting for the Phantom of the Opera?”

Gwen would have whimpered if she’d had more energy. They’d been playing this game for over an hour at least and she was no closer to escaping than when she started. The shackles held her tight, the chains still hugging snug around her chest, shoulders, and waist, cold and unrelenting. The only difference now was she was utterly exhausted, mentally and physically. Unless there was some kind of miracle, the young heroine wasn’t getting out of this trap.

She groaned. To make matters worse, once again she had no clue what the answer to this question was.

“Come on, Spidey Girly!” Screwball patted her on the back, “Give it a good old-fashioned try! At least take a guess!”

Gwen slowly shook her head. At this point, even if the answer was tucked away in her brain somewhere, she wouldn’t have been able to retrieve it. She couldn’t even keep count of how many times she’d been shocked by now.

Adding to that, she didn’t really know if she even wanted to get the question right. Every time she got a correct answer, she received one of those “rewards” that were almost as exhausting as the punishments. It earned her points, but she was never in danger of winning the game. With the “special secret” questions, she’d given up her middle name, her bra size, the city where she was born, her blood type, and her celebrity crush, but her real payment for all those humiliations was that the game lasted longer. It all gave her more points to lose, more times she could be shocked before the inevitable.

Even so, the fear of being unmasked drove her to speak.

“The… th-the…” she squeaked, “The P-Paris… theater?”

For a second, the villainess didn’t respond. A tiny hope flickered in Gwen’s heart that maybe she’d gotten the answer right.

That hope died when Screwball stepped back, removing her hand from the heroine’s body so she wouldn’t get a taste of the forthcoming shock.

“AAAAH!” Gwen cried out, body once again straining against her chains as the voltage rushed through her.

“Oopsies!” the villainess chirped, “The correct answer was the Pal-lays Gar-neer! Good try though!”

The digital display on Gwen’s podium blinked out, then reappeared. Her score was 0025.

“We’re getting pretty close, all you Screwheads out there!” Screwball said to the camera, “This next one could be the last question! Make sure you’ve put in your guesses, cuz in a sec we MIGHT just be seeing who’s under this mask!”

The shock ended and Spider-Woman slumped with a whimper. Her head bounced when it flopped down then hung, breath wheezing through her mask. Right then, she wished she had never gotten any questions right at all. Twenty shocks and it would have been over, if she hadn’t tried to win. Too tired to moan, she only hung there, a growing part of her just wanting this to end.

“Either way, she’s played a good game!” Screwball grinned, sidling up beside Gwen’s podium, “I know I’ve had fun!”

She looped her arm over Gwen’s heaving shoulders, giving her a friendly squeeze.

“And I KNOW you guys are having fun!” the villainess continued, “Let’s have a look back at some of the adorable moments we’ve had so far!”

Screwball went silent and continued to beam at the camera, staying in place with her arm around her captive’s shoulders. She wasn’t entirely rigid, but she was clearly posing, her grin starting to look strained and artificial as the seconds ticked by.

“Aaaand we’ll cut in a little montage there…” she muttered through her teeth, “some replays… and back.”

Her grin brightened again, her voice regaining its chipper bounce.

“Isn’t she the cutest!” Screwball gave the heroine another squeeze, “Definitely worth all the head aches of catching her. Remember, if you want to see how I did it, check out my DIY Catching a Super video, link in the corner!”

Gwen cough weakly through her mask and managed a small sound, too weak and faint to be a sob. She vaguely comprehended what was happening at that moment and cared just as much. Any break in the painful, humiliating game was a welcome one and she relished the time to catch her breath. She didn’t bother lifting her head, her thoughts circling the drain. Passing out would have been very welcome.

The digital wheel spun again, deciding what could be the last question.

“But before we move on to the next one, why don’t we have a quick word with our guest!” Screwball cheered, “How are you liking the game so far, honey? Anything you want to say to everyone watching?”

Gwen just panted. It was telling that she didn’t have the energy or heart to snap back with a biting remark. She didn’t even bother to lift her head or try to squirm from her captor’s playful grasp. The villainess stroked her then gave her a friendly shake and she just let herself be jostled, wishing it was over.

After a few seconds of her guest remaining silent, Screwball giggled.

“She’s just tired,” she gave the camera an aside, before cupping Spider-Woman’s chin, “Come on, Spider-Girl! You’ve been so much fun! Share your thoughts with the people watching!”

She scooped up Gwen’s limp head, directing the masked face towards the camera.

“How about this?” Screwball’s grin broadened, “I’ve had so much fun with you, I think I’m going to make you a regular here at Screwball studios! If you get unmasked today and your little superhero career has to end, you’ll have a new career with me in show biz! Free room, board, and all the glitz and glamor of internet stardom! Talk about your win-win scenarios, huh?”

The thought of doing more of these made Gwen want to crawl into a hole and die. A whimper bubbled from her lips.

“She’s very excited,” the villainess translated for the audience, “And now let’s get back to the game!”

The wheel had been stopped on white almost the entire time Screwball had “interviewed” the show’s contestant. She didn’t bother to announce it this time. Keeping her hand under Gwen’s chin, the perky villainess hopped as close as she could towards the table and reached out for a white card. She had to strain, struggling to keep the heroine’s head up with one hand and reach the white stack with the other, but after a bit of trembling and squeaking she managed to snatch one.

Giggling with triumph, she then sidled back to her moaning captive, holding the card in front of Gwen’s face so they both could read it.

“This is the big one, Spider-Girl. Ready?” she grinned, “What do you call the masks that the players in a Noh performance wear?”

Gwen stared at the card, a terrible fear clenching her heart. She had no points left and if she missed this question, she had no doubt her captor would unmask her in front of her audience. That would be the end of Spider-Woman, probably the end of her life as she knew it, especially if Screwball intended to keep her around like she said. As much as she wanted the game to end, she feared being exposed even more.

And she couldn’t even guess the answer to that question.

Desperation driving her, she pulled once more at the restraints, flexing and arching her chest out towards the cameras. The chains clinked and her manacles scraped at the metal post, her body shaking as it strained. She fully intended to keep pulling until either the chains gave way or she dislocated both her shoulders.

Sadly, her body simply didn’t have the strength to continue fighting. Though she grunted and even whined with effort, her muscles simply stopped heeding her, slackening from sheer exhaustion. It didn’t take long before her trembling body melted back down and she let out a moan of defeat.

“What do you call the masks the actors in a Noh performance wear?” Screwball asked brightly, like she hadn’t even noticed the escape attempt.

Panting, Gwen forced herself to clench once more, but it was a feeble attempt, her body barely bowing out before it slumped once more.

The wilted superheroine whimpered. Something HAD to happen to stop this. Maybe someone would save her, maybe the power would go out and delay things, SOMETHING! She couldn’t actually be about to be unmasked in front of the whole world!

“Doo dee doo doodee doo dee doo…” Screwball sang the first part of the Jeopardy theme, “Time’s running out, sweetie! If you don’t answer in a sec, we’re going to have to count it as a miss!”

Gwen tried to pull at her restraints again but couldn’t even make a fist. Her eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for something to help her, for inspiration, an idea to buy time.

“Five… four…” the villainess counted down.

Starting to hyperventilate, the young heroine did the last thing she could think of.

“I… pluh-please, I… I don’t know…” Spider-Woman gasped, her voice weak but squeaking with desperation, “I don’t…”

Before she could continue, the electrodes came to life, but this time not with pain. On the lower setting, the electrodes hummed into sensitive places, creating sensations no less intense than pain, but of a different flavor. It throbbed deliciously, welcome after all the agony and fear.

“NA-AH--!” the young heroine’s breath caught, her chin popping up from captor’s palm.

“Aww, sorry, Spidey,” Screwball cooed, “I’m afraid the CORRECT answer was Omote. Since you played a good game, I’ll give you a little reward for the finale. But I’m going to have to take your last 25 points.”

As Gwen mewled and writhed in the grasp of intense pleasure, the score on her podium blinked out then reappeared as 0000. The number flashed, glowing red.

A siren rang out. Above the heroine’s head, the “Take That Mask” sign turned from pink to crimson, the other lights and bulbs blinking in a glittering frenzy. On the monitor, fireworks graphics burst in pixelated flashes of light, forming the same titular words as on the sign above her. It was just like a jackpot, but in this case for everyone but the player.

With a tart smirk, Screwball turned Spider-Woman’s face towards her, seeing her own smug reflection in the mask’s big lenses. Gwen continued to squirm, digging her rump into the post behind her as her thoughts were obliterated by stimulation.

“That means you lose!” the villainess called out over the celebratory siren, “And you know what else that means!”

She turned back to the camera, punching her fist into the air.

“It means, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” she cheered, “It’s time to… TAKE THAT MASK!”

The electrodes ceased and Gwen went slack, her chin dropping back down into her captor’s open palm. Held upright only by the villainess’s grasp, the exhausted, masked girl stared blankly, overwhelmed by too many sensations to react. The wailing siren and flashing lights seemed distant and unimportant, her mind left numb, sapped of all strength.

As promised, the shining silver claw appeared from behind the fluorescent sign above. Its three pincers open, hanging from a metal chord, it descended with mechanical precision, unhurried.

Screwball turned Gwen’s face back towards the cameras, cradling it gently in her palm.

“You’ve only got a few seconds to get in your guesses now!” the villainess reminded the audience, “Remember, the first one to guess who she is wins, but in a second you’re all going to know for sure!”

Breathing raggedly, eyelids drooping behind her mask, Spider-Woman didn’t even flinch as the claw sank down towards her head. It descended until it touched her scalp, then rested there a moment as the sensors in the claw registered that it had reached its destination. Once that part of its program completed, the pincers snapped shut, pinching the top of the white mask, then began to rise again.

Gwen only reacted when she felt her mask slipping up, sliding over her chin. She blinked, letting out a faint moan.

“Up it comes!” Screwball sang, “Did you guess right? Well… you’re about to see that Spider-Girl’s REAL identity is… drum roll…”

The mask slid over Gwen’s pouty lips, ajar as she panted weakly. Then it rose over her nose.

“Nuh… no…” the heroine faintly protested, “d… don’t…”

The white spandex slipped over her flushed cheeks, her heavy, lidded blue eyes, her eyebrow piercing, then abruptly sprang off, the tight fabric constricting as it reached the top of her head. Her blonde hair spilled free, bouncing down to her ears and chin.

“GWWWWWWWEN STACY!” Screwball cheered.

Canned applause clattered from nearby speakers as the now-crumpled mask dangled from the claw. It continued to rise then stopped just below the fluorescent lights, holding the garment up as in triumph. The now-empty lenses of the mask stared out at nothing, just a hollow vessel.

Meanwhile, Gwen blinked at the camera in shock. Flushed and tired, the pretty teenager looked almost stupefied for a few moments, but then a worried, fearful crinkle began to form in her brow. What had just happened was only slowly starting to sink in.

“That’s right!” Screwball laughed, hugging Gwen around the shoulders, “Spider-Girl is none other than Miss Gwendolyne Stacy of New York City!”

Still holding the exposed heroine’s chin with one hand, the villainess turned her head to give her captive a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Mwah!” she grinned, snuggling closer, “For those of you that don’t know her, Gwen is a student at Townsend Harris High School who likes to play the drums and is in a band called the Mary Janes! She has a 3.1 gpa and among her other extracurriculars, she likes to dance ballet and fight crime in a spandex suit!”

Gwen closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again, but she didn’t wake up. This wasn’t a nightmare. She’d just been unmasked on camera while a super villainess gave out her real name and all other important data for an audience of hundreds of thousands. Her entire life had just been completely destroyed. The worst part was, she was too exhausted to feel anything other than a deep, soul crushing hopelessness.

Her gaze lowered, eyelids drooping closed in defeat. It didn’t matter what happened now. She was truly, completely, and indelibly screwed.

As if on cue, the siren and the blinking lights faded, to be replaced with the same bouncy game show theme song that had played when Gwen had first woken up.

“All right, Screwheads, that’s today’s show!” Screwball smiled at the cameras, “But this is just the beginning! Maybe I’ll nab me another super cutie! Or maybe Gwenny and I will play a different game! Keep checking in to see what I have planned and tell your friends!”

The music began to fade as the villainess waved farewell to her audience.

“Later, boys and girls!”

The villainess continued to wave, then blew a final kiss. Then abruptly the fluorescent lights went out, the monitor went blank and all the sound effects went silent.

Screwball sighed with satisfaction. The show was over.

“That… was awesome,” she grinned.

The villainess turned to press another kiss to Gwen’s cheek.

“You did great, sweetie!” she gushed, “The camera loves you and all your little reactions… you’re just perfect for this! Couldn’t have worked out better! You definitely have a future in this business!”

Gwen didn’t respond as she received a squishing hug, then another congratulatory kiss on the cheek.

Screwball giggled, then let out a soft sigh, resting her head against her captive’s. She stayed there for a moment, content, basking in victory and internet fame.

“Mmmm…” she purred. She had everything she wanted.

Gwen opened her eyes enough to stare down at her feet, still too keyed up to sleep but too tired to reply. Being beaten to this degree sucked the life out of her in a way she had never thought possible. She’d considered that she could die as a superhero, but not that she could be so thoroughly destroyed and exploited. At that moment, she didn’t even know who she was that she could allow something like this to happen to her.

Slowly Screwball slipped her arm from the defeated heroine’s shoulder, lowering the girl’s chin back down to hang from her neck. Reaching up, she unclipped her helmet then slid it off to toss her brown hair free, then set it aside next to the stacks of question cards. Strolling around to the front of Gwen’s podium, she pushed the device aside on its rolling wheels, then stepped closer, nothing between captor and captive but the heroine’s restraints.

Crooking a finger under the former Spider-Woman’s chin, the young villainess tilted it back up and leaned close, staring into the dazed blue eyes with predatory intensity. The gaze held for several seconds, Screwball looking deep, challenging the heroine to glare back, turn away, flinch, show any signs of defiance.

Gwen’s glassy eyes stared back, lidded and faintly frightened. They focused on her captor, clearly seeing her and understanding who she was, but offered nothing back. The only thing inside her that wasn’t exhaustion was a faint plea for mercy, a hope that at least she would suffer no longer.

Screwball saw exactly what she wanted to see.

“Mmm…” she whispered, “Now THAT is what you call one beaten superhero…”

With that she closed the distance between them and captured her captive’s lips with her own.

The kiss was soft and sweet, affectionate and warm. This time Gwen was conscious for it, but she did nothing to resist. She let her captor have what she wanted, not minding the velvety lips on her own, the probing, flicking tongue in her mouth.

After a few moments, she even closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling. She submitted to her enemy’s desires, cooperating, even beginning to kiss back. It was a more potent, honest surrender than any words could have expressed.

Grinning, Screwball drew back, eyes glittering with greed as they stared into the soft, doey eyes of her prisoner.

“Who pwns you, Spider-Gwen?” she whispered.

Gwen swallowed, blinking slowly. It took more effort than she wanted to speak, but she did it anyway, staring sadly into her mistress’s eyes.

“Y-you…” she rasped, “You do…”

Screwball’s eyes lit up, grin turning almost menacing.

“That is correct!” she hissed.

With a growl, she lunged in to devour the meek heroine with another fervent kiss.

* * *

Screwball’s room was usually a mess, but now it was even more so. Parts of both the villainess’s costume and her new pet’s costume were strewn around, thrown aside in a frenzy. The top of Gwen’s suit was crumpled on the floor, her leggings hanging off a dresser, her bra lying next to the bed, while her pink and purple-hearted panties dangled from a lamp. The two girls themselves were hopelessly tangled in the sheets, most of the pillows on the floor, one even sitting on a windowsill as the sun slowly rose, shining on the two naked bodies.

Naturally, being the one who wasn’t entirely exhausted, Screwball woke up first, groaning and stretching like a cat. She lifted her arms and reached, curling her toes, then sat up, propping herself against the wall. After a long yawn, she ruffled her hair and grinned, feeling immensely comfortable and pleased. Her pleasure only grew as she cast her eyes on the unconscious girl lying beside her.

Gwen lay flat on her stomach, pretty features smooshed into the mattress, breath whistling faintly through her puckered lips. Her position didn’t look entirely comfortable, lying on one arm, her other arm hanging off the edge of the bed, her sheets twisted into little more than a rope that barely covered anything, but she was sleeping too deeply to notice. Her blonde hair was tangled and sticking out like clumps of straw, her features still blushing from the night’s activities, and she was entirely at peace, warm, in a world of dreams where there were no troubles.

Screwball laughed gently, curling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. She’d expected more stamina from a superhero, but she’d worn the poor thing out in no time. True, her little toy had been pretty spent to start with, but she’d thought she could get at least one more heroic surge of energy out of the great Spider-Girl. Instead, the villainess had dominated her in bed just as easily as she had in the warehouse.

Tilting her head, smiling whimsically, ran her fingers up and down the blonde’s back in wide, sweeping strokes. She traced between the shoulders blades, followed the curve of the back, then tickled her way back up, enjoying the soft, unresisting skin.

“Yes sir,” Screwball reiterated softly, “That… is one beaten superheroine…”

Gwen made a lovely sight, athletic and graceful but still soft and touchable. Wearing only a slender inhibitor collar to keep her powers under control, the rest of her curves were on full display, her long dancer’s legs, the curve of her shoulders and back, and most notably the firm bottom that rose up from the tops of her thighs, the contorted sheets doing nothing to hide the alabaster globes.

Grin broadening, Screwball scooched closer to partake. She rolled onto her side, propped herself up on an elbow, then let her other hand roam over the ballet-swollen tush. Flattening her palm against one round shape, she pressed over the slender gap to the other, then back again, moving and molding the freed cheeks. Biting her lip, she moved her hand in slow circles, watching the interesting, shifting effect it had on Gwen’s bottom with no small amount of exultation. This was hers now. All hers.

Finally, deciding it was time to start the day, she clapped her palm against the former heroine’s bared bottom.

“Wakey, wakey, achey Gwenny!” she sang.

Gwen’s brow flinched and she let out a low moan.

Screwball gave her butt another round of playful smacks.

“Time to get up, baby girl!” she leaned closer, “Open those peepers! Can’t lie around all day!”

Groaning, the exhausted blonde slowly cracked her eyes open. With a discomfited pinch in her brow, she stared blearily at the other girl, not really recognizing her.

This didn’t dampen Screwball’s enthusiasm in the slightest.

“Mmm, there she is,” the villainess stroked some hair out of her pet’s face, “Time to get up! I want a pop tart!”

Gwen blinked languidly, her thoughts still swirling with exhaustion.

“Whuh…” she rasped, her throat raw, “Wha…?”

Screwball gave the girl’s nose a playful wiggle, “A pop tart! Get up, go into the kitchen, to the big door by the fridge, get the box, then bring it back here to me.”

She gave Gwen’s butt another smack to encourage her.

“Come on!” she sang, “Up, up! The sooner you get back, the sooner you can lie back down, and then we’ll have a shower. It will make your little throat feel better.”

Groaning again, Gwen was too tired to fully comprehend the circumstances, but not the order. Pushing herself up, she slowly rolled herself off the bed, then came to her feet, head hanging.

Screwball propped herself back up against the bed frame, putting a pillow behind her head for comfort.

“There’s my little super Gwen!” she sighed, pointing toward the bedroom door, “Right through there. Kitchen, big door next to the fridge, pop tarts. Chop, chop!”

In a weary haze, the beaten heroine shuffled towards the door, too tired to remember she was naked or to care. She staggered like a zombie, hips swaying, giving her mistress another pleasing view of her bare bottom as she left the room.

Screwball giggled to herself, getting settled and waiting for her new pet to return. She still had some brainstorming to do to figure out how to top these latest two videos, as well as lots of editing, but for now she planned on just enjoying her success. Maybe she’d take Gwen for another little ride before their shower. She made the cutest noises when she was desperate and the villainess wanted to hear lots more of those before the morning was over.

Screwball stared hungrily at the half-asleep heroine as she shuffled back into the room with the pop tarts.

Yup. These were definitely her favorite videos so far.

It was good to be a superstar.