Top
    


*** IF YOU ARE UNDER 21 YEARS OF AGE, PLEASE CLOSE YOUR EYES AND HIT ALT-F4
AND LEAVE NOW... IF YOU ARE OVER 21 AND REALISE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
FANTASY AND REAL LIFE, READ ON AND ENJOY!!! ***

NC-17, Contains script of a violent and erotic nature. Rape is a fantasy,
anyone who even considers doing it for real should be put on the wrong end
of the Witchblade itself. Any characters and events involved in this story
are purely fictional, and are based on a comic called - Witchblade. There
is also a TV series that aired in America called Witchblade, and is based
on the same concept. However, the comics are far superior to the TV show,
which quite frankly sucked. This is definitely some of the darker stuff
I've written... Maybe I'm moving in a different direction. If you haven't
read any copies of Witchblade (TopCow Comics), I recommend you do so.
Michael Turner, the artist is amazing. Please send me comments on this
story, and if you like, I can send ya chapters 2-4 which have been written.



Witchblade: Vengeance, Destiny and Punishment Part 1
by Miss Pezzini ([email protected])

Sara Pezzini is beautiful creature, as if touched by an angel from the high
heavens, perfect and as innocent as a lamb. She never dreamed she would
become a police officer of the NYPD. She had always thought of becoming a
model, a lawyer, a waitress, anything but a police officer. But one trait
that has stayed with her throughout her entire life persuaded her to sign
up, trouble. Sara was always in trouble for one reason or another, even if
it was nothing to do with her. She realized this and knew she had to do
something with her life in order to correct it. The law seemed like a logical
step. So far it had managed to keep her on the right side of it. It had also
taught her a lot in life, lessons that could only be learnt on the rough
streets of New York.



Chelsea, New York, Present Day, 6.30pm

Sara had just stepped out of the shower, water rolling, streaming down her
long golden body. Creeping over her breasts and running down between her
legs. She grabbed a towel off the wall and began to dry herself. Her long
brown hair dripped with moisture. The strands clung together to form thick
golden brown locks, which seemed to wave and flurry in the still air. She
walked half naked across her cozy apartment in Chelsea. Realizing that the
window was still open, she covered herself up hurriedly and closed it.

"Stupid Sara, your apartment over looks half the city..." she reasoned to
herself. She had a long night ahead of her. Down at the department, her boss,
Joe Siry had given the go ahead to an operation her partner and she had been
planning for months. It wasn't easy convincing the chief. Dressed, she sat at
her dresser. She stared into her reflection, her eyes falling down to her
neck. She then caught a glimpse of her destiny. The artifact had been
attached to her wrist for about a year now. She had learned to live with it,
as it had learned to obey her. The Witchblade. A weapon more powerful than
any, who chooses only those who are strong, of pure innocence and good will.
Therefore, no man could ever be picked. Every wielder of the weapon over the
centuries were all women. Sara didn't care. All she wanted was a normal
life... without the Witchblade. But something told her that she couldn't live
without it now. They were bound physically and spiritually. She knew... she
had no choice.

***RIIINNG RIIINNNNGGG!! RIIINNG RIIINNNNGGG!!*** - < shit, phone>

Sara athletically bounded in a single leap over her couch and plucked the
phone from the hook.

"Pezzini here..."

"Sara, where are you? We need to get the gear ready by 7.30, c'mon, we can't
screw this up."

"Look, Jake, partner, buddy... I'll be there in 15 minutes. I just had to
sort a few things out."

"OK, whatever, just hurry your bouncy butt down here "

"Jake... uh, whatever!" Sara put the phone down. She did have a few things to
sort out. Sara walked over to her study, on the table were hundreds of notes
and pictures and coffee stains. Obviously the evidence of long nights over a
long case. She walked round and placed her hands on the table.

"You're going down tonight..." Sara whispered to herself. Her glare locked
onto her subject of complete interest over the past half a year. The man in
the picture was no stranger to Sara. In fact, they used to know each other
when they were much younger. Their parents had sent them to the same boarding
school in England. Sara had worked so long on this case, concentrating on
such minor details, sometimes she forgot what the hell this man did to her.

~ ~ ~

Hampshire, England, 1985

She was running through woods... Past trees and leaves, seas of greens raced
past her. She could hear the boys, they were close. She stopped to catch her
breath, and leaned back behind a thick oak tree.

< Ok, I know it's called kiss chase, but they've chased me miles. At least
half way across the school grounds.> She heard rustling getting louder. She
hadn't been caught yet, she couldn't stand those smelly 10 year old boys.
She saw a thick brush of holly to her right.

< They'll never look for me in here> her mind started to formulate an
ingenious plan. So intent was she in getting into the middle of the holly
bush, the sharp thorns were only mere hindrance to her. < Ouch! Great plan
Sara!> she thought regretfully. She made it! She had scratches from head to
toe, but she didn't care.

"Where is she? Sara!! Pez!! Where are you?" one of the boys laughed out.

< Smelly, smelly boys. >

The boys loafed around for a while, turning in circles on the spot too lazy
to walk about, typical of children, gave up and left.

"She's probably gone crying to Mrs. Valentine. C'mon, we better get to
class..."

< Finally, you dumb boys...> Sara prepared her exit from her thorny hideout.
Suddenly, she stopped, frozen to the spot. < Wait... Someone is still out
there...> Sara peered through the tiny gaps in between the thick thorny holly
leaves. She saw nothing. Her head bobbed up and down, to and fro, trying
desperately to find a clear line of sight through the impossible maze of
thorny leaves. Suddenly, she saw shoulder-long dirty blonde hair. It was Sven
Gryphyn. He was this boy from Holland; in fact, Sara thought he looked kinda
cute. All the kids made fun of his accent, they nicknamed him Dutch. It stuck
with him. He had a hard time, and spent most of his days with the athletics
squad.

"Pez, I know you're here somewhere..." Sven, paused, listened and looked
around. "I... I guess not then... I was hoping I'd be the one that got ya" he
muttered under his breath. He ran away. Sara smiled.

~ ~ ~

Then she remembered. The man in the picture was an ex-HK Special Units
Soldier. Now he had traded in his days of valour and courage for greed and
money. He was the highest paid hitman of the 21st century. His last job,
taking out Kenneth Irons, evil businessman and entrepreneur, earned him a
little fortune of around 20 million dollars. There was one saving grace of
all his actions. He only ever accepted jobs if the target deserved to be
erased. Criminal war bosses were being capped almost every month. But this
didn't change what he did to Ms. Pezzini. Not in her eyes. To her, he was
just another cold blooded criminal.

~ ~ ~

France, 4th June

Dutch flipped through his targets portfolio. He had accepted a mission in the
south of France, where Donnie Franchesco of the Little Italy, Italian mafia
was meeting with French crooked businessmen who seemed to have access to army
grade weapons and equipment. However, his target was not Donnie. No. Donnie
was too precious to the equilibrium in the back alleys of New York. Without
the strength of the Italian mafia, the young but virilant Japanese Yakuza may
just take control over the dangerous down town streets. Although they were no
better or worse than the Italians, Sara would rather they just killed each
other, and left the poor civilians of this city alone. Life is a bitch enough
for everybody...

Dutch assassinated the leading French businessmen that day at high noon. A
sniper bullet from 5000 yards away cleaved a hole in between his victim's
eyeballs. He didn't know about the girl sunbathing behind him. The calibre
of the bullet was large enough to punch a hole through a car. As his target
fell from the view of his sight, he saw his mistake.

~ ~ ~

Sara grimaced and remembered in sorrow
and screwed up a photo on the table.

Sara arrived at the station, dressed in leather pants hugging her perfect
body. Her pert large breasts heaved under a tight red tank top.

"Going for stealth I see" Jake said jokingly.

"Shush, and pass me my suit you idiot"

"Of course, you look even better in this thing than you do now" Jake tossed
her combat suit to her. It was tight black leather with chest armour. They
put on the rest of their equipment. Sara picked up her Remington .325. She
uncock it, and spun the drum before inserting six bullets.

"Sara, honestly, you better take something a little bigger than that tonight.
I can't protect you all the time" Sara looked back at him, with an expression
of grief.

"It's a sidearm dammit. Give me an m4a1 Colt carbine. I recommend you take a
PSG. I need you high up."

"It always seems as if I'm covering your ass Sara." Jake grinned. Sara
couldn't help but be amused at Jake's lame attempts at being flirtatious or
funny.

"We make it through this night, and you may just have to cover my ass at my
place..."

"Yes Maam!"



DownTown, New York, 10.30pm

Jake was up high. Very high. He was prone, looking over the side of a
towering building, the postal office. Good thing it had a clear view of
Dutch's Penthouse apartment.

"Ok, this is Archangel to GroundHog , do your thing...radio
silence, out."

Sara sighed. "Affirmative Archangel, Pez out."

Sara moved through the darkness, aware of trip sensors and lasers blocking
her path. She ambled up the side of the wall, just evading two cameras by
inches. She leaped and rolled over two more high hedges, evading pressure
sensors on the foot path.

She
rolled under what she thought was a laser beam by the front path to the door.
It was fake. A pressure sensor hidden on the path where she rolled...

A silent alarm wheeps.

She was at the door. She looked for a way in.

Jake scanned the apartment. The lights were mostly out apart from in one or
two rooms. He zoomed in on Sara, who crept over to a side window, and opened
it. Jake stared at her perfect slender body slide in through the window. He
scanned right. He panned left. He scanned rig... WAIT a sec... What the
fu...? He caught a glimpse of a reflection out of a darkened room on the
south side... it was a scope... looking directly at him.

"Shit..." Jake went to aim and pull the trigger, but before he could even
move, a silenced shot whipped through the dark air and clipped his neck. Jake
wriggled on the floor, his hand clasping his neck, he fumbled for his radio.
He passed out. He hadn't told Sara. Sara was alone.

Sara moved through the darkened house with her rifle tucked under her arm.
She moved with graceful silence... only a trained ear could detect such
motion. Unfortunately, she was in the lions den. This was his world. Her
keen sense of sight saw the outlines of moonlit furniture. A snooker table,
an arcade machine, fine antiques from all over the world. Sara stopped. She
couldn't hear anything. She felt scared. She looked down at her wrist, half
expecting her Witchblade to be glowing with anger and fear.

< Protect me... > the alien artifact had always protected her from danger
in the past. Growing tendinous spines and protective chitin over her body
whenever she was in danger. It was silent tonight. Sara gripped her rifle
more tightly than ever, and pushed on towards what looked like the living
room. It was large and spacious, with large grand couches surrounding a
fireplace and a huge widescreen television. Everything was still. No noise,
not even of a passing bird, nothing.

Sara moved towards the living room when she heard a noise behind her. She
spun around, raising her rifle, illuminating her torch light at the end of
the gun in one fluid motion. Nothing. She turned back only to see in horror,
Dutch standing up close to her. She tried to point the rifle at him but she
was far too close. Dutch grabbed the rifle and twisted it out of her hand.
She was powerless to stop him.

< Witchblade... I need you, please... c'mon > Dutch quickly disarmed her and
flicked her pistol across the room, and removed her knife from her boot. He
saw her wrist.

"You are the bearer of the Witchblade..."

< Oh no, he knows about the Witchblade... why isn't he scared? Why isn't the
Witchblade working?! >

"You killed my sister you bastard! I'll make you pay!!! You're under arrest!!
NYPD!!" Sara shouted, feebly trying to resist Dutch's firm grip on her arms.
He was a good half a foot taller than Ms. Pezzini, who stood at a respectable
5'10". His muscular arms easily controlled the hapless women in front of him.

"I know of the one you speak, er, Ms. Pezzini is it? You do know it was an
accident don't you. I am sorry for your loss, but the world is a much better
place now."

"How can you say that! A better place without my sister, She did nothing to
hurt anyone!!"

"Your sister was involved with dangerous people. It was only a matter of time
before she got hurt." Dutch explained. "Miss Pezzini, may I call you Sara?
Sara, it is obvious you didn't come here to kill me... or if you did, it is
obvious the Witchblade doesn't want me dead."

< Why isn't the blade working?! Is it him? It has always killed my enemies
before... my enemies..? He IS my enemy, he must be... > Sara's mind was
racing with confusing thoughts.

"I am not your enemy Sara, but we are connected in a way... Our paths were
meant to cross again. Our futures have been already written for us."

"We are not connected at all you bastard. Let go of me! I swear I'll kill
you!"

"You are beautiful Sara, you have come here to give me something haven't
you?" He said, seemingly ignoring her pleas.

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about. Let me go!! UGH!!" Sara
struggled but could not escape the grip of her assailant. Dutch plunged his
mouth over her luscious lips.

"mmm mmMMMph, LEMME GO!!"

"You're going to get what you truly desire, Sara"

"You're wrong, I have back up, you're dead asshole... urgh" With that Dutch
plunged his fingers in-between her cat suit, forcing the leather partially up
her pussy.

"You mean your fellow officer on the roof of the postal office. He's probably
past out from loss of blood ages ago by now."

< no... NO... Jake! I hope he's alright... but this means I am truly alone.
With my Witchblade not working, I can't imagine... help me... HELP ME > her
mind screaming silently.

Dutch moved his hands over her large firm breasts, squeezing and kneading
her right tit through her thick armored vest. His other hand at her throat,
holding her in place. She was defenseless.

"Arghh... no please, don't do this!!" Dutch ripped off her chest amour and
ripped her cat suit open down the front, just enough so her breasts hung out.
She still had a supportive sports bra on. Her tits were being pushed up by
the fabric below, so they stood out, nipples hardened by the ordeal. Dutch
then tore away the bottom half of her suit, revealing red lingerie
underneath.

Sara wondered what was going to happen to her. It was obvious. There was
nothing she could do to stop him. She tried to struggle against his strong
grip but it was useless.

Sara threw her head back arching her back in pain as he took mouthfuls of
flesh through her bra into his mouth, his tongue finding the raised bumps of
her nipples, one hand grabbing her pussy, pushing the flimsy fabric aside,
inserting two fingers into her tight snatch.

"Urgh!, Noooo, please, noooo!! Urgh" Sara moaned. He unfastened his pants and
let his huge cock drop out. Tears were rolling down Sara's cheeks. She was
about to be raped. Dutch thrust his cock into her pussy, and rammed it all
the way in.

"AUURRRHGGG!!!" Sara's eyes widened in shock to the intruder. Her mouth
agape in pain and shock as well. She stayed like that, looking up towards the
ceiling with her breasts in his mouth.

< nooo... o god nooo! > Dutch pounded at her pussy, he pushed her up against
the wall, with each thrust, smashing into her pelvis, jolting her off her
feet into the air.

"UGH, URGH, URGH... NOO... Please, you can't do this to me!! URGHH!!!" Sara
screamed, her pussy aching from the attack. Dutch grabbed her breasts and
squeezed them together before ploughing his face deep into them. He pushed
the support bra up and over her gorgeous breasts. They fell out perfectly.
He fucked her harder and harder until he was about to shoot his load inside
her warm pussy. He felt the walls of her tight pussy clasp his cock, milking
it, persuading it to erupt within her. He wasn't going to finish so soon. He
pulled out of her gaping hole. He then, without warning, spun her round, and
pushed her onto the edge of the couch. She hit it with a thump, knocking the
wind out of her stomach. Unwittingly, she had raised her butt into the air,
with her legs slightly parted. She was trying to catch her breath, when she
felt his hand reach round hugging her slender body close to his. He pulled
her back onto his cock.

"URHH OH GOD NO MORE PLEASE!!" Sara cried again. Tears streaming down her
face constantly. She cried and cried, but she knew it would do nothing. He
fucked her harder and harder, thrusting and pounding her pussy with his
thick cock. He then pulled out and his cock found her virgin asshole.

"O god, please, not theerreeeee!!!!!" He entered her. Her body went stiff,
as he forced his dick into her ass.

"Don't worry, I'm still going to cum in your pussy."

"No, please, not there, anywhere but there,"

"Sara, this is your destiny... do not fight it."

< What does he mean, my destiny? >

He thrust a few more time into her ass, he half spun her round so he could
suck on her thick nipples atop her huge golden breasts. He pulled out, and
with once final thrust, slammed himself all the way into her pussy. His cock
spewed and dumped load after load of hot white sperm into her womb.

"URGH URGH!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Sara felt the hot gushes of fluid line
the inside of her pussy. She felt it slosh about in her womb. There was so
much it leaked out around his cock, which he left in her. Spent, he spun her
round. Sara had her eyes closed, tears streaming down. Her clothes were torn,
with her firm tits exposed. Her snatch was filled with a fat throbbing cock.
He withdrew after he had pumped every last drop from his balls into her. He
wanted to make sure that their destiny was fore filled. Sperm dribbled in a
steamy stream out of Sara's pussy. He kissed her face, and laid her down
gently on the couch.

"Sara, I'm going to call a cab for you. We'll be in touch, don't you worry.
Our child will be more important than anything material in this world, and
the differences between us shall resolve themselves in due time."

< Our child? Oh my god... damn you Witchblade, damn you... why?...dammit...
he IS my enemy... He is my fucking enemy!!.. he must be... >

Broken and beaten, Sara's mind drifted off into the infinite darkness of
sleep. It was over.

    

Back 1 page


Submit stories to: [email protected](dot)com
with the title heading "TSSA Story Submission"



Bottom