Shoutout and thanks to Vinetalover. This is a sequel to his story "Tintin
Sucumbs" so it wouldn't be here without him.

codes: Ff, mf, reluc, oral, fist, f-dom (mild), mindrape

For feedback write [email protected]

Thunderbirds: The Healing Of Tintin
by Tricksterson

Scene: The vaults of the Bank of London

The Tracy family and their allies had come through great hardships to reach
the final confrontation with their nemesis, the Hood but none had paid a
greater price than his young niece Tintin because along with all the other
difficulties she'd been raped in both body and mind by her evil uncle. Only
sheer strength of will and the urgent need of the Tracys, who had always
been a second family to her, had kept her on her feet. In particular the
needs of young Allen Tracy for whom she had a particular fondness.

Now she saw him battling the Hood and saw him fall, clutching desperately at
the metal runway. 'NO!' she thought. 'He is *not* going to die especially
not at *his* hands.' She gripped the crystal she used as a focus for her
burgeoning mental abilities and before either Allen or the Hood knew what
was happening they had reversed positions. She winced and crumpled as the
psychic backlash from her exertions came but also welcomed it. Finally she
could do what she had wanted all along and just curl up and die, give in to
the self-loathing unleashed by the Hood's psychic rape... She said a silent
goodbye to all the people she'd loved as she sank into darkness. They'd be
better off without a miserable slut like her anyway.

Ten Days Later - Tracy Island

"She's still in a coma?"

"Yes Penny. We've had the best doctors flown to the island. There's nothing
wrong with her physically but the only time she shows any reaction is when a
man enters the room and then she goes into a screaming fit." The speaker was
Jeff Tracy, billionaire and patriarch of the Tracy clan, also known as
International Rescue. Only recently they had fought off an attempt by the
super-criminal known as The Hood to take over the island and destroy both
them and their good name. Unfortunately the battle had not been without
casualties, one in particular. Tintin, psychically gifted daughter of
servants to the Tracy family, niece to the Hood and victim of both physical
and psychic rape.

"Well do you blame her? I mean I recovered but I'm older then her and *far*
more experienced in the ways of the world. Besides which, beast though he
was, Mullion was only able to hurt my body. The Hood reached into her mind.
Who knows what kind of horrible thoughts he planted in there."

"A psychologist can't help if she won't even take notice of her. I confess
Penny, I'm at my wits end. Do you have any ideas?"

"I do have one. As her fellow victim, *I* might be able to reach her. But
I'll require complete privacy."

"Done. Anything you want. I owe her my son's life."

* * *

Dark. Everything was Dark. Why, why were they keeping her alive? Didn't they
know she'd be happier dead? Didn't they know *they'd* be better off without

A sound. Maybe it's Him. Maybe if she curled up smaller He wouldn't notice.
No. Not Him. A woman. A familiar woman.

A soft voice whispering. "Tintin. Are you there? It's me." Lady Penelope? Was
it her or some kind of trick? A soft hand stroked her hair and carressed her
cheek. She opened one eye a crack, afraid of what she might see. But yes, it
*was* Lady Penelope. The one person she was sure wouldn't hurt her because
she had shared her pain.

"P-p-p" Arms both soft and strong wrapped themselves around her shoulders,
soft lips touched her forehead.

"I knew you were in there. I knew he couldn't crush you entirely." She opened
her eyes fully now if cautiously. There, in a flowing pink silk bathrobe was
Lady Penelope smiling at her.

Tintin looked around nervously. There was noone else in the room. She started
to uncurl and winced in agony. She had resisted the attempts of nurses to
exercise her limbs and was now paying the price.

"You poor dear," sighed Penelope. "Let me help you?" Tintin nodded
tentatively. Trust, even of Lady Penelope was difficult. The older woman
started with her limbs. She slowly unwrapped one arm from the fetal position
her young charge was curled in. Her hands massaged Tintin's and worked up
the arm. Her teeth bit gently into the ball of the girls thumb as her hands
straightened out the elbow then worked the muscles of first one shoulder then
the other. She slowly turned Tintin onto her face and worked across her back,
to her other shoulder and down her other arm. Where her hands went, her lips
and tongue followed. Small moans and chirps of pleasure escaped the young
girl as muscles that had been locked up for days slowly relaxed. Lady
Penelope then moved to the smooth, brown flesh of Tintin's slender legs,
straightening them then working the muscles and bones of the feet and calves.
She smiled when she actually managed to provoke a giggle from the girl by
licking the bottom of her feet and again when her hands caressed the backs of
her knees. As her hands slid up Tintin's soft peanut butter hued thighs Penny
considered sliding a hand between them into her unwitting sex-pupil's slit
but thought that would be too much too soon. Instead she skipped to the top
of her back and worked her way down the spine. However this time when she
kissed Tintin's neck she felt her stiffen back up.

"Something wrong dear?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Lady Penelope..."

"Please dear, call me Penny."

"What...what are you doing?"

Penelope sighed. The girl might be emotionally crippled but she was anything
but stupid. "I'm trying to help you dear. To teach you not to be afraid of
your body or of your feelings."

"But it's ugly and filthy and wrong. *I'm* ugly and filthy."

"No you're not. You're a beautiful young woman and your uncle is an evil
horrid man. Sex *can* be wonderful and I'm going to prove it to you." With
that she gently but firmly kissed Tintin on the lips, sliding her lips,
slowly and softly, on the young girl's then letting her tongue do the same.
After a few seconds she let her tongue dart between Tintin's lips, playfully
looking for an opening. Hesitantly Tintin let her lips open to let the
teasing bit of flesh in. Even more hesitantly her own tongue started to
respond. She let Penelope turn her on her back.

"Well, you might not be filthy *inside* but I can see you didn't let the
nurses do a full job cleaning you up, let me." Penelope had been informed as
to how difficult Tintin had made keeping her clean and decided to work this
into the therapy. The girl wasn't completely unwashed but there were signs
of grime here and there. She went to the bathroom and took a sponge, soaking
it in warm water. She them started cleaning the rough spots on her charge,
taking care especially between Tintin's legs as she planned to spend some
time down there later. As her hands cleaned her mouth was also roaming,
paying especial attention to Tintin's budding breasts. Soon, almost against
her will Tintin's own hands began to explore, first stroking the older
woman's back and running through her hair then getting bolder, slipping
inside the robe that Penelope had donned for the occasion smiling when she
realized that there was nothing underneath. Smiling at the progress made,
not to mention the warm feelings her own body was sending her Penny put down
the sponge, stepped back and let her robe fall to the ground, revealing a
superbly formed body. Despite both how she had been brought up and the
insidious influence of her uncle the young girl-woman couldnt tear her eyes
away from the full breasts, creamy skin, and shapely legs before her. The
older woman advanced, swaying sexily then climbed onto the bed, straddling
her sweet nymphet. She bit down on her lip as Tintin's hands once more
reached out to stroke and pinch at her breasts and nipples then returned the
favor, bending down to suck first gently then harder at Tintin's rich dark
nipples. A moan escaped the girl.

"Yes, dear, that's it. Let yourself know how good and wonderful your body can
feel." With that she let her hand drift down her new lover's sweet young body
until it rested between her legs. She ran a finger experimentally up and down
the peachfuzzed labia and then, when there was no objection, slipped it in.
At first Tintin stiffened in reaction but then as it sllid in and out of her
and was eventually joined by a second, relaxed. Another grunting moan came
from her, a longer louder one that stopped only by Penelope's lips. Penelope
broke off the kiss only to work her way down Tintin's throat, then through
the shallow valley betweeen her breasts, down her bell and finally to the
lightly furred cleft between the girl's legs. She also swung her own body so
that Tintin had access to her own golden furred pussy. She spread the young
girl's labia and gave the first long slow lick up and down the wet pink slit
then as the body beneath her shivered in pleasure proceeded to thrust her
tongue in and out.

Tintin was convinced. *Nothing* that felt this good could be dirty and wrong.
Not confident enough yet however to engage in a sixty-nine she pushed two
fingers in and out of Penny's pussy which in turn caused the older seductress
to double her tongue action.

"Oh God Penny, I love you, yesyes yesssssss!" Feeling that Penny's twat was
looser than her own she inserted a third, then a fourth finger sending her
older lover into spasms. But Penny still wasn't satisfied.

"More!" she gasped. Tintin obliged and soon her entire hand was fucking the
English aristocrat, plunging in and out. Penelope reacted as if struck by
lightning, her back arching almost to the breaking point, her body spasming
off of Tintin's to give her easier access, her breath coming in strangled
growls. Soon she lay in a boneless heap, tongue hanging out, eyes glazed,
nothing like the dignified beauty she usually was. Tintin withdrew her hand,
frightened at what she might have done watching the gaping hole of Penny's
cunt slowly close. She closed her eyes and concentrated until her mind found
Penny's making sure she was still alive and gratified to find this was so.
Slowly the older woman's eyes came back into focus and she took Tintin's hand
in her own, licking it clean of her juices and pulling the young Malaysian
girl into her gentle embrace. Mission accomplished.

Six Months Later

Allen Tracy was already sleeping restlessly when the sound of his door
opening woke him. Conflicted feelings and guilt had made sleeping difficult
ever since he had asked his father why Tintin was sick and been told the
reason. He regretted ever saving her uncle's life now. Even after she had
recovered, apparently with the help of Lady Penelope, she had seemed shy and
standoffish around the males of Tracy Island but especially with him. Only
with Fermat did she seem comfortable, perhaps because he was the least
agressive of all the males. Therefore it came as a surprise when he sat up
and saw that the intruder was none other than Tintin.

"Tintin, what...?"

"Shhh," was the gentle but forceful reply. He saw she was wearing a lounging
robe and then to his shocked delight he saw that she wasn't wearing anything
under it as she let it slide off her shoulders revealing small pert breasts,
a slender waist, full hips, long well shaped legs and a vagina still visible
under a dusting of hair. She walked swiftly from the doorway to his bed and
lifted the sheet covering him. He was himself wearing only a pair of boxer
briefs that did nothing to hide his rapidly developing erection.

"What are you *doing*? he asked. Without thinking he kept his voice to a
whisper. The tawny minx smiled at him.

"Do you want me Allen?" she asked. As she did she reached down and stroked
him through the thin fabric of his underwear. He hadn't really thought about
sex other than as a fantasy but right then he knew he wanted her in bed with
him more than anything.

"Y-yes, but..." Tintin put a finger on his lips to silence him. Her finger
then traced it's way down his throat, then his chest and stopped at the
waistband of his underpants.

"You do, don't you?" He couldn't help but nod. "But if you want me you have
to do things my way. I have to call the shots." Her hand slipped inside the
waistband and pulled his cock out. "Okay?"

"Anything." He was rewarded by her climbing into bed with him straddling his
legs and crouching over his dick, delivering a long slow lick down it's
length. It wasn't as long as the bananas Penny had coached her on in their
"therapy sessions" but easily as thick. A moan escaped him and another as her
mouth engulfed his penis moving slowly at first up and down his length, then
gaining speed and confidence. She brought him to the point of coming and then
released him. She then pressed his cock between her adolescent breasts. They
weren't big enough for a good tit-fucking but just the feel brought him
squirting all over her chest, chin and neck. His rod remained stiff as he
watched her massage his cum into her skin rubbing it into her breasts and
stomach and into her pussyfur. His hands reached up but he felt them grabbed
and stopped by an invisible force.

"Uh-uh. You have to ask." He wasn't sure if the sterness on her face was real
or pretend.

"Can I?"

"Can you what?" She let a small smile reveal itself.

"Can I...feel your breasts." This domination by a girl was making him angry
but he understood why she had to be in charge. Besides, although he would
never admit it it was also a little comforting because to be honest he didn't
really know what he was doing.

"Say please."


"Please what?"

"Damnit Tintin!"

"Thats not the way." To give him some incentive she ground her sopping pussy
against his groin.

"Alright, may I please feel your breasts, pretty please with whipped cream?"

"Well I didn't bring any whipped cream, but yes, you may."

At first he was a bit clumsy but soon had Tintin uttering small moans of
pleasure as he explored the meager surface of her breasts and particularly
as his thumbs circled her nipples. Excited she decided to give him the
ultimate reward. She rose up over his rigid cock and slowly impaled herself
on it. It was a much more gratifying experience than her uncle had given her
and she was soon moving up and down his pole enthusiastically.

"Oh...oh that's nice. Yes, so good, soooogoood! Yeah! Fuck me Allen, fuck
me!" Without asking permission he grabbed her hips to thrust more forcefully
but at this point she didn't care. Her eyes rolled up in her head as he came
into her.


As they lay in bed together after he held her and said, "I'm sorry I wasn't
there to stop him."

"It's all right."

"I wish I had let him die."

"I don't."

"You don't?" He asked, surprised.

"No, I don't. You a good person Allen, I don't want that on your conscience."

'Besides,' she said to herself, '*I'm* going to be the one who kills him.'

Ten years later, Peru, the Andes

The International Police platoon prepared to storm the fortress before them
watched by the tall bronze skinned beuty behind them, their leader, Lt.
Yasmina Suwatra, now known by her childhood nickname of "Tintin" only to her
intimates. It had been a long ten years of fox and hound but supported and
funded by the Tracy family she had finally brought her quarry, the
international criminal mastermind known only as The Hood, to bay. Known to
the world at large that is since *she* called him "uncle". She followed her
team as they scuttled down the narrow mountain trail in the darkness, made
invisible by the cameleoflage technology patented and provided by the Tracys.
The explosives were silently planted and the huge steel doors ripped off
their hinges taking the guards behind with them.

As her men fought the Hood's mecenaries she scanned mentally, no loger
needing the crystal she once used, searching for her prey. This was the
closest she had come to her quarry in three years, since the operation
in Australia that had ended in the death of Mullion, the Hoods sadistic
henchman. Lady Penelope, who had led the mission had retired afterwards
to marry Jeff Tracy, saying that killing Mullion hadn't healed her the
way she thought it would. Tintin had to admit that her own savage pursuit
of the Hood sometimes even scared her. 'After this,' she promised herself,
'a long vacation with my husband.'

Ah, there he was. Her mental powers allowed her to lead her men through
the maze of tunnels that had been dug into the mountain, past the traps and
ambushes. She could have attacked the Hood from a distance once she found
him but she wanted, no *needed* to look him in the face when she brought him

* * *

She was coming. He had felt her anger and determination from the moment she'd
entered his fortress. Of course he had an escape route planned, it was all a
matter of whether he could reach it before she reached him. The truth was
part of him hoped he didn't. He wasn't the man he had been ten years ago. The
relentless pursuit had worn him down. Part of him just wanted it to be over.

"Then you'll be getting your wish." came a hard voice from behind him in the
tunnel. He spun around to see the tall lithe form of his nemesis. Clad in a
form hugging dark blue uniform she looked every bit the magnificent predator
she'd become.

"It ends here. It ends now."

"Very well. Let's see what you've learned since I bested you."

Quite a lot as it turned out. As an untrained girl of thirteen she had been
his near equal in their mindbattle. Now she was truly formidable. An observer
would have wondered what was going on because to all outward appearences both
young woman and old man were simply standing still, looking at each other but
in the realm of the astral spears and flashes of literally mindnumbing force
danced between them in thrust and parry. He had to admit that in sheer power
she was the superior but he still had a few tricks to teach her. A fierce
counterattack sent her body down to one knee.

But in the end it was her unending and righteous anger that turned the tide.
He felt himself thrown to the floor and his clothes torn off. Hard brutal
hands clawed at his breasts [my what?] and pried his slender young legs apart
[whatishappeningtome?]. He screamed as a huge hard cock ripped into his
vagina, breaking through herhis hymen [?]. He screamed and pleaded for it to
stop but his only response was harsh laughter and cruel voices "SLUT! BITCH!
WHORE!!". No, no! he was..he was...who was she? *What* was he?

* * *

Yasmina looked at the body, curled into a fetal position in front of her.
She felt curiously unsatisfied. She had won, her foe was forever locked in
the prison of his own mind suffering as he had made her and who knew how
many others suffer. Shouldn't she be happy? But instead she felt...nothing.
Her men finally caught up to her and told her that the fortress was secure.
She had them pick up the body. It would be brought to a hospital and cared
for in whatever lifespan remained to it.

As for her, paperwork, then a long and well deserved second honeymoon with
Fermat. Ten years ago she never would have imagined that he would be who she
wound up with, Allen had been the only boy for her. Unfotunately although his
body had grown and matured his personality had not. They were still friends
and he was still the handsomest man she knew but duelling egos had killed any
relationship they might have had. Fermat was strong enough to know when to be
weak. Maybe he'd teach her how someday.


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