Everybody Wants Zinda update

Looking at Silver Island, just inside of international waters off the coast of Cuba, it was impossible for any Westerner not to think of a tropical vacation. The jungle was airy with just a hint of mystery, pushed back by sprawling roads and expanses of fenced-in estates, while the beaches cut around the island with pure white sand, perfection only marred by the occasional fallen coconut or scuttling crab.

The hacienda Barbara had directed them to was almost on the beach, sparkling like a white diamond with its stucco walls, the wooden-beam roof trimmed with jungle plants as if the lumber that’d gone into it had never thrown off its island origins, despite the colonial style it’d been built in.

“Please tell me this is the place,” Misfit panted. The teleport had not been easy on her.

Dinah nodded tightly, all business. It amazed Roy to see her so cool and professional—not because he wasn’t used to that from her, she’d been a Jedi Master since the first time he’d met her, but it made such a difference from how she’d been an hour or two ago. Cock-drunk and pawing at him with a fervor that had nearly resurrected his erection. It was a testament to how good the sex had been that even Dinah at her most sensual couldn’t get him back up. At least, not before they’d had to go following the lead Slade had given them. 

“This is it,” Dinah confirmed. “Bane’s last known mailing address.”

Roy patted Misfit on the back. “Good going getting us here,” he said.

Misfit glowed at his praise. “Yeah, I’ve been getting a lot better at teleportation now that I’m legal,” she said, smiling hintingly. “It used to be everyone who teleported with me would go all Italian food!”

Roy gulped.

“What’re we gonna do? Ring his doorbell and tell him someone ordered a pizza?” Helena asked, smearing suntan lotion on her exposed belly. For once, her revealing costume fit the atmosphere. In his body armor, Roy felt like he’d be red as his arrows before too long. 

Dinah had shed the jacket that gave her a modicum of respectability. In just her leotard and fishnets, the sun glowing off her creamy skin, she looked like she was on her way to a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition shoot, not a battle with two of the deadliest supervillains the world had ever seen. “Simple flanking maneuver. Roy, you’re going to approach from the west. Helena, you’ll come in from the south. I’ll come in from the north. Misfit, you watch the east. No one can go that way without running smack into the ocean, but I want someone there if an opportunity presents itself. Otherwise, don’t engage.”

“Yeah, sure,” Misfit sighed, eyes rolling. “Benched again…”

Dinah put her hand on Misfit’s shoulder and squeezed supportively. “Hey. If you see Zinda, if there’s a chance for you to get her out of there… take it. Just don’t get yourself killed trying. I’m trusting you to know the difference between a risk and a suicide.”

Misfit nodded nervously, taken aback by suddenly being treated as the woman she’d wanted to be seen as. “Yeah. I won’t do anything stupid. Promise.”

“Okay then.” Dinah looked to Roy, her eyes saying volumes. He looked back, the setting suddenly intimate despite the tense atmosphere. There were things they’d both like to say, even do, but not in the middle of the mission and not in the midst of the entire team. “Roy, you’d better get going. You’ve got a bit of a hike to get into position.”

Misfit stepped on the moment, smile blowing up like a balloon. “I could just ‘port him over! It’s no problem!”

Roy quickly put up his hand to wave her off. “That’s alright. It’ll do me some good to stretch my legs—get warmed up.”

“Alright. We can be alone together some other time,” Misfit said guilelessly and popped away.

Roy guffawed once and started off. “Good luck, Canary.”

“You too, Arsenal.”

Helena watched him go, eyebrows raised as she enjoyed the show. But it was nothing compared to what was going on behind Dinah. “Sure you don’t want me to come in from the west? You two could take your time… getting into position.” And with Roy out of earshot, she slapped Dinah’s ass.

Dinah cringed, feeling a cooling wetness run down her thigh. Roy had come inside her, a quick second round before they left Slade’s place for good, but even his second wave was too much for Dinah to hold. His seed was spilling down her leg—she snatched a leaf from a palm tree to wipe it away. Scratch another pair of fishnets…

“You dog,” Helena laughed, watching as Dinah struggled to halfway douche herself ahead of the showdown. “Roy didn’t come that much in me. Guess you really bring out the best in him. Or at least the most…”

“Can we gossip later?” Dinah demanded. “Zinda’s in danger, remember?”

“I’ll be in danger if we rescue her and she finds out I didn’t rake you over the coals for getting Roy’s arrow in your quiver.”

“Later!” Dinah insisted. “Much, much later!”

Helena gave up on her fun, hefting her crossbow instead. “Fine, fine,” she retorted. “But we are definitely comparing notes.”

Dinah suppressed a groan as Helena ran off to circle around to the hacienda. Dinah looked down at it from her current vantage point. Overlooking the house, it should be simple enough for her to pick her way down to the house, even in fishnets. Then she heard someone clearing their throat behind her.

For a moment, she thought Helena. But even as unaligned as Dinah was with her chakras and other spiritual peripherals, there was no real mistaking Helena’s aura for that of Lady Shiva.

She turned around and saw the fighter standing across from her, darkening the air of the grassy field that had been a jokey Birds of Prey briefing room just moments ago. Not that Dinah would think of calling her friends back. She didn’t feel safe being on the same planet as Lady Shiva—she wouldn’t want her team close enough to see her. Being seen by Lady Shiva was like feeling a lump on your breast. Maybe not a death sentence, but certainly not a good prognosis. 

The asceticism of Lady Shiva was blinding, the sun powering off her clothes, turning them into bright primary colors while Shiva’s flesh radiated cool. She was like a monolith, representing nothing more abstract than herself, so fiercely Shiva that there was no room for nothing else. The hard lines of her face and the flat planes of her muscles were no less stark. A skeleton would have more thoughts, more feelings, more to it than what Shiva had made of herself.

Dinah’s assessment of Shiva floated in the air between them. After all this time, Dinah would not change her mind on Shiva and Shiva knew full well what Dinah thought of her. The small pause to regard each other, and to feel once more whatever they felt for each other, was the only affection they could or would show. Dinah forced herself not to wonder what Shiva felt for her—what she saw when she looked at the Black Canary.

Finally, Shiva shook her head. “You could’ve been a great pupil. You could’ve been a great anything.”

“I’d rather be great in my own way.”

“Where no one gets killed?” Shiva asked derisively.

“Almost no one,” Dinah replied, and opened her mouth to let out a Canary Cry that sent birds shooting from the treetops all over the island.

***

Zinda awoke in the cool-yet-stark air of a Mediterranean clime, a house in the Spanish style: thick stucco, adobe brickwork, and grated windows allowing a crisp breeze to flow through the luxurious breadth of white walls and red clay. She pulled herself off the bed, gratified to find no sweat marring the sheets despite the brightness of the sun strolling through the windows. She stretched and yawned expansively. She had never felt better. Slade and Shiva had totally satisfied her; the vividness of the memory still made her smile.

She looked around. The electric lights were off, casting the room into shade except for the ambient illumination coming off the shafts of sunlight pouring through the wrought-iron grates in intricate patterns. In the gloom, Zinda registered a pair of blazing eyes set in a gimp-like mask, a fetishistic black leather vest. His swarthy skin was almost the same color, like an extension of the leather that covered his body, and Zinda was surprised but not shocked to realize he was standing next to her bed, his groin within a foot of her face.

“What are you doing here?” Zinda asked sleepily, making no move to hide herself, not even checking to see if any of her nudity was exposed by how she was sprawled out on the bed.

“You,” Bane said, his red eyes looking over her creamy breasts and honeyed cunt with obvious relish. “Shiva has given you to me; I am your new lover. You will serve me. Serve me well and you will derive pleasure from this. Resist and I will break you.”

Something about his rough Latin accent caused shivers to run through Zinda’s taut flesh. She reached out and ran her fingertip over his substantial bulge until she’d found the zipper. “I think I’m getting broken either way,” she said, nudging the zipper down enough that she’d be able to find it later. 

She put both her hands on his hips and pulled him in until his knees bumped against the bed. 

“Can I suck your cock?” Zinda asked, pressing her lips against the smooth leather hiding it from her. 

“I do not know,” Bane said, pushing her head aside to slowly unzip himself. “Can you?”

When his burgeoning prick was released, Zinda still didn’t know. He was as big as a horse. She had to use both hands to hold his cock, and at her touch, it shook with lust. She exerted a palpable effort to hold his quivering erection still enough for her to lick the enormous knob.

“Good, good,” Bane moaned, resting one gigantic hand on her head. It was like wearing a helmet. “As I said, with service comes pleasure.”

He came down on the bed, Zinda barely having time to arrange herself under him. His hands thickly wrapped up her shoulders and he held her in place as she obediently opened her legs to him. 

Without warning, Bane thrust himself into her. Zinda felt an excruciating shock of pain, like a baseball bat was being rammed inside her. It was like Bane expected her to have gotten wet out of sheer obedience to him. “Jesus, you’re killing me!” she screamed.

Bane forced his entire length into Zinda inch by inch, wrecking her with pain as she felt his enormity stretch the soft folds of her passage to the breaking point. She thought that surely she couldn’t take another inch, but another came… and then another and another…

“Die or enjoy,” Bane said. 

Zinda fought for her breath, the pain stealing her air, sucking it back in giving her some relief from the sizable bulk pushing its way into the depths of her cunt. Bane grunted as he hit her cervix, his leather pants thankfully coming to a rest against Zinda’s thighs, proving she had taken all he could give. He withdrew himself from her and it felt like he was pulling out her mercilessly opened folds with his cock. Then he lunged back inside her, cruelly stretching her despite how wide she already felt.

“I can’t take it!” Zinda cried. “It’s too much!”

“And what will complaining do to change that?” Bane grunted out, his voice full of lust.

Zinda closed her eyes, managing to block out the sight of him and a little of the sensation, at least until he pistoned back inside her. Slow and steady as it was, his body was like an oil derrick, repeatedly slamming him inside of her no matter how her pussy clenched. 

“Nice and tight,” Bane husked as his cock exploded with hot seed.

Zinda thought she was going to faint from the unbearable feeling of being opened up. But when the soft, creamy warmth of his cum flowed inside her, covering every inch of her womanhood, she gasped with relief. The change in feeling was orgasmic. She felt her pussy coming, clenching, despite the impossibility of tightening even one degree on his oversized cock. Then Zinda throbbed with the fullness of his expended cock and load of semen, the twitching sensitivity of her sex after climax.

“Okay,” Zinda gasped when she’d regained something of her wits. His steely cock was growing no more comfortable inside her and she pushed at his hulking body. “You’ve had your fun flying high. Time to set this plane down and refuel…”

Bane did pull out of her, his hardened cock sliding over her tender walls with every inch that left her, but when he was out, Zinda couldn’t close her legs.

“Twenty-three skidoo, I think you opened me up for life,” Zinda groaned. “I’ve ridden ponies that didn’t leave me as bowlegged.”

“I haven’t left you anything yet,” Bane said. With her eyes adjusted to the dark, Zinda could now see some sort of control on his chest. He adjusted it, and plastic tubes—invisible before in their translucency—ran green with some kind of fluid. The sight of it rushing around making Zinda cringe internally as she remembered the cum that had flowed into her cunt. 

The green stuff reached his mask and Bane gritted his teeth. His muscles swelled. His already hulking body grew—while his flaccid manhood became throbbingly erect, as hard and as ready as a cannon about to fire.

“You have more holes,” Bane said simply.

Roy loosed his arrow, pinning it in Bane’s shoulder as it severed one of the tubes delivering Venom to the super-soldier. Helena’s crossbow bolt, on the other hand, simply impacted in Bane’s chest, seeming to bother him as much as a bee-sting.

“You have got to do target practice more,” Roy said.

“It’s either archery or ab crunches,” Helena said. “Which do you think are more important?”

Bane roared with rage as he turned. Roy saw his erection still protruding out of his open fly. Had to admit, he might’ve been pretty confident in his own inches, but Bane made him look like he was in a cold swimming pool. He shifted the aim of his next arrow, stopping Bane short.

“Hey, El Santo, you want to put that thing away? Makes a pretty big target…”

Bane tucked himself away and zipped up as Helena spoke: “We don’t want any trouble. We just want Zinda back.”

“If you want her back,” Bane replied, pulling the severed tube out of his suit and stopping the spray of loose Venom, “you should have waited until I was done with her. She would’ve been of no use to me then.”

Helena scoffed. “Gym bros. They’re the same everywhere.”

“Perhaps I can be done with her now,” Bane cried with sudden vehemence, lifting up a fisted hand.

Roy streaked forward, trying to place an arrow somewhere vital in Bane but it was hard to tell where anything vital was when all of his anatomy was grotesquely distorted by Venom. Bane brought his fist down and Roy slammed his bow into Bane’s gut. It broke, but distracted Bane enough that his fist came down next to Zinda, merely breaking the bed in half instead of her. 

It was barely a respite—Bane brought his hand around and backhanded Roy, sending him flying. Another crossbow bolt thudded into Bane’s back; it could’ve been a paintball. Helena hastily reloaded.

“I should just start using a gun,” she muttered, firing again as Bane advanced on her. The bolt sunk into his chest without him appearing to notice. 

Roy came in from behind, bleeding but unbroken, slamming a rapid succession of knuckle strikes into Bane’s kidneys. They sunk into Bane’s bloated body like marbles would sink into the ocean. Bane swiped at Roy again, but this time Roy ducked under it, coming up with a combination to Bane’s body, then kicks to his legs that might as well have been trying to uproot an oak tree. 

Helena fired again, her crossbow bolt this time pinging off of Bane’s head, deflected by his armored mask. It still distracted him long enough for Roy to slip through what little defenses he required and give Bane a left hook to the liver, then a straight into his solar plexus. 

Roaring with rage and pain, Bane didn’t seem to move so much as blink out of existence and reappear as a fist filling Roy’s vision. Roy flew, striking a stucco wall and feeling it disintegrate into tiny jagged bits that shot out all around him as he filled the hole they had been ejected from. 

A crossbow bolt shot into Bane’s mask again, this time dislodging the remaining rubber tube. It hissed behind him like a flailing snake, spitting Venom down his back. Helena barked out a laugh: “Won the teddy bear!”

Bane turned her on with his eyes blazing so fiercely through the red lenses of his mask that they could’ve been glowing. He moved impossibly fast for such a big man, charging Helena like a bull, and Helena could only thank the crucifix swinging around her neck that she dodged before he stomped over her position and kept going right through the wall. Wrecking balls hit with less force than he used to burst out of the hacienda and into the courtyard. 

Bane stopped out in the glaring sunlight—took a deep, cleansing breath—and then turned, yanking the rubber tube off his body as he had its twin. The bolts and arrows that they’d stuck into him protruded from his body like broken spears from the hide of a warthog that could not be hunted down. 

“Do you really think I need the Venom to kill you?” he asked, looming over Helena as she laid on the ground where she had thrown herself. “Or do you think that is just to make your death quick and painless?”