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The Villain

By: deathlynx



Resonance took a long look in the mirror. The polymer-fiber-titanium fabric really did look like spandex. It covered her from crew-neck collar to her ankles and wrists. The boots and gloves were a similar material, one that offered just as much protection but didn't cling quite as spectacularly.

The PRA offered it to every agent as part of the standard equipment. Not everyone had the self-confidence to wear the material. As she'd noticed it really did fit like spandex, even if it offered more armor than a dozen tanks. She, however, had the body for it.

Resonance ran her hands down her sides, accentuating her feminine curves with the action. The material was actually quite smooth to the touch. And soft! It really was a remarkable achievement, made even more impressive by the fact that she could actually feel her own hands through the fabric. She would have thought that that much protection would dull her senses but the engineers had somehow managed to allow for the delicate sensations without the aggressive pain that could accompany an impact.

Even more impressive, not to mention important, was the ability to fashion the fabric in whatever colors the hero chose. Or, more precisely, whatever design the hero's handler chose. The administrative overseers had the final say in everything that involved an agent's life. If they decided that large swaths of the material should be invisible then the hero, or more frequently heroine, had no say to overrule them.

Karen was lucky with the handler she'd been given. Every single one of them was a normal; someone without powers. Many resented the lack and took it out on those they were charged to manage. At least she was allowed to go out fully clothed, even consulted in choice of designs. And she'd been given a respectable alias. Although a little trite, "Resonance" was a lot better than some of the hero names out there.

There was a beauty in the way the blue-gray material seemed to ripple and shimmer as she moved. Not only did it draw attention to her body but it would make it more difficult to actually pinpoint her motions. In the dark, it would be nearly as effective as the ability to wrap herself in shadows.

Of course, hiding wasn't one of Resonance's plans. She was absolutely made for the spotlight! She had very unusual, possibly even unique, abilities. The most showy of them might be a bit destructive but even that would ensure that she was sent after the most dangerous criminals.

If only they'd get around to giving me a mission! Karen lamented.

She'd officially completed her training and registration three weeks before. That should have been plenty of time to find her a suitable criminal to thwart. At that point, she would have been willing to play second fiddle to a more experienced agent just to get out of the compound and do something!

Not for the first time, Karen toyed with the idea of going out on her own. PRA agents were permitted to try their own hand at assignment making. Of course, it was generally discouraged and if anything went wrong she could be left high and dry without their support.

Still, support or not, she was on the verge of deciding to go it herself anyway. She hadn't even seen Mary in six days! Although she'd only known her handler for a little over a month, and despite the fact that they had merely been assigned to each other without any more formal bond-building process, it felt like sheer abandonment.

The biggest problem with going it on her own was the certainty whether a criminal would be classified as suitable for a Para to apprehend. By the PRA charter, their agents weren't allowed to apprehend non-powered criminals. That was left to the various police and federal forces across the globe.

If she accidentally went after someone and then discovered herself in error, she could lose her status and be reclassified as a criminal. She'd spent too long, worked too hard, to become classified as an agent. She couldn't imagine her life as anything other than a grand hero, protecting the world from those who sought to use their powers for evil.

Then, there was the not inconsequential lack of information. When sent on assignment, she would have access to the full intel that the PRA had put together on not only her target, but any known or suspected associates. With that kind of information at her disposal, it was difficult to conceive of failure. Without it, she would be hard-pressed to even find whatever villain she set her sights on.

Karen's shoulders sagged. She took one last, long, look at herself in the mirror. It was a great costume. Such a shame that the world had to wait to see its splendor until the norms at the PRA decided they were ready to give her a mission.

She could almost imagine the photos that went along with the headlines. It was remarkable how similar a pose the press wanted from supermodels and superheroes alike. She'd be the next pinup doll to come out of the PRA. And why not? She had the body men would lust for and sex sells!

There was something in that thought that tugged at the back of Resonance's mind. It wasn't about publicity, that much she was certain. There were official spokes-men and -women for the PRA. The agents who captured the criminals, stopped the crimes, got their pictures taken but when confronted with the press they were all trained to simply say "no comment" and leave it at that.

If she had wanted to become a PR rep for the PRA, Karen knew she could have. She had the personality and looks for it. She hadn't chosen that life, however. She wanted to do actual good, not just talk up those who had. While she wanted to be seen and known, she didn't really care about the publicity.

What was it then?

Resonance studied herself in the mirror once more as she tried to catch the errant thought. Her eyes lost focus. It was almost as difficult to capture the rippling color of the fabric as it was the wayward notion. Only her form remained constant; average-sized yet exceptionally pert breasts, thin yet not waspish waist, athletic limbs and the pointed juncture of her legs.

That was it! It was something about lust. Now she only had to figure out what it was about the sin that niggled at her mind.

Once more, she allowed her hands to glide suggestively down the sides of her form. She reveled in the splendid sensation of the material but only distantly. The sensation, like the seductive movement of her hands, was nothing more than a subconscious trigger she hoped to provoke a brainstorm.

The combined sensations began to dull, as her sight had moments before, and she slipped partially into a meditative state. Her mind began to hint to her even as her hands wandered farther. Each added caress released a new connection even as it sparked an unnoticed moan.

Just before she thought about herself in the papers she had considered, for probably the hundredth time, going out on her own. After that, she worried over the lack of information. Although that was generally seen as the greatest hurdle, it could be turned around.

There were those criminals who were little more than a shadowy legend among agents of the PRA. Those were often the ones that an agent would go after, only to discover they had hunted someone with no connections to the world of super powers. If she was careful, however, there were a few that she could all but guarantee would qualify.

When the term "legend" was bandied around, there was one name that came first to minds the world over. Resonance didn't favor her chances in the search for Night Strike, however. Even if she thought she had a chance in Hell at finding him, he wasn't actually a villain. Quite the opposite, he was a hero whose legend had only grown when he vanished after his great deeds. Like Arthur of Camelot, it was said he'd return when the world needed him the most.

No. While Karen would love, more than anything in the world, to someday meet the man who had single-handedly restored order to a world rapidly spinning out of control, she wanted her first mission to speak of heroism. She needed to take down a bad guy.

Pressure began to build between her legs as her gliding hands wandered downward. For a moment, her meditative concentration was shattered by a gasp of pleasure. Her fingers had brought her much closer than she realized, as her thoughts slowly began to develop.

Inspiration struck like lightning. Her finger, seemingly of its own accord, drove hard against her enflamed bud in response to the half-formed revelation. Her subconscious mind was trying to work through her rogue body to give her some final clue!

There was one villain who had been confronted by dozens of different agents over the past decade. To the best of her knowledge though, there was very little actual information on him. Even the building in which he lived was owned by a private corporation listed, laughably, only as "Villainy Inc."

Resonance had no clue what charges he was initially wanted for. At this point, however, he was a constant point of contention within the PRA itself. Every single agent who went into the building had failed to apprehend him. Even more important, however, were the rumors that the women were raped, while the men were simply kicked out, beaten and embarrassed.

The truly interesting thing about the unnamed villain was that he apparently had no powers whatsoever. The rumor mill's best guess was that he had dossiers on as many PRA agents as they had on criminals. Either that or he had some means to access the PRA files themselves.

Karen's knees buckled. She collapsed to the floor, her own weight pressing her renegade finger ever harder against her and tripping her over the edge into an explosion. Her body lurched forward, saving her from the trap while at the same time causing another blast of electric delight as her hand slipped free.

She lay on the floor. It took very nearly an act of will to keep her hand out beside her. It seemed desperately to want to sink back between her legs and cause even more exquisite ecstasy. If not for the extensive psychic alert systems in the building, she would have worried that someone had set a compulsion on her.

It was only as the shuddering aftershocks began to subside a little that Resonance suddenly realized she was still in her costume! Without thinking, she reached down to see how badly messed it had gotten. Even the brief contact arched her back and sent a fresh aftershock roaring through her.

She shivered helplessly with desire once more. Karen was impressed, yet again, with the amazing material they'd designed for the costume. There was no question how wet she'd made herself. Her underwear virtually squelched against her skin. Yet the outside of her costume remained as dry as a bone.

Still, even if her costume was fit to wear, she needed to change. Unsteady, she pulled herself to her feet and staggered over to the dresser. With effort, she peeled herself out of the remarkable outfit and inspected the inside. As expected, there were some stains, but at least she suspected it would rinse away cleanly. In an hour or so, maybe even much less, they would be dry and ready to go.

Karen peeled off her sodden underwear and seriously contemplated tossing them straight into the nearest incinerator. In the end she tossed them in the hamper, suddenly aware that whoever did the laundry around there must know the most intimate details of even the highest placed handlers. She turned and headed for the bathroom with her costume in hand. Once she and the outfit were clean, she intended to have a go at the unnamed villain.

* * * * *

The plan was simple. She would ride down on the bike she'd requisitioned and take a look at the building. Everyone knew what to look for. It was a metallic block of an eyesore only fifty miles north of the regional headquarters. The wild took over quite instantly the moment she was out of the city and was broken, eventually, only by the large facility.

The structure itself was drab and industrial looking. If not for the vents, placed seemingly at random across the walls, it would look like nothing more than a gigantic gray, metallic, block. It took Resonance three quarters of an hour to wander around and survey the entire building on foot.

She couldn't fly so the roof remained a mystery to her. Even if there was a way in up there, she wouldn't have trusted it. She didn't trust the handful of vents that were scattered about within any semblance of her reach and she certainly refused to trust the single door she'd discovered on the eastern wall.

Whether or not she trusted any of the entries, she would need to figure out a way in.

Resonance had been named for abilities that all revolved around vibrations. As with quite a number of Paras, she had an offensive, a defensive, and a sensory ability that all worked based on similar properties. It was the nature of those abilities, however, that made her rare.

As she paced the building a second time, she allowed herself to fall into a meditative trance. The technique was simple for her. When she'd hit puberty, and her powers began to erupt, she had quickly mastered the art of finding the calm center of her mind. It was something of a shock to have discovered that other states, such as arousal and masturbation, could bring about similar results but she felt most confident with the age old form of deep breathing exercises.

The world seemed to expand around her. In her calm state, she began to feel the very vibrations in the air. Not just the light tug of the wind, or the subtle beat of a bird's wing in the distance. Sound, air, even her footsteps caused ripples that bounced back and fed her information about her environment.

That was how she discovered the first passage that ran beneath the earth in a line straight towards the building. After another complete circuit of the place there were four total, one for each wall. One for each cardinal direction. All were roughly twenty feet below the surface and five feet wide but beyond that she couldn't tell much about them.

Resonance toyed with the idea of following one until it reached the building but immediately rejected it. She might be able to learn a bit more about where, precisely it entered but that was about it. The passages themselves were too deep for her to get much more than a general shape and the air within acted as the best insulation to prevent her any more knowledge of them.

Instead she decided to follow one back, away from the complex. It suddenly began to rise and she could slowly make out more details of the hidden passageway. She knew, for example, that the sharp incline was made manageable by stairs, rather than a slope. She also thought she sensed a motion in the walls that suggested there was nothing to block the bottom of the flight.

The entrance to the tunnel was simplicity in itself to find. Although very cleverly crafted, the faux rock stood out to Resonance's super human senses. It wasn't that it was hollow, simply that the density inconsistencies within it were all too geometric to be natural.

If she had to guess, the actual mechanism that operated the door was housed within the cover itself. Not only did that help to hide the mechanics but it also lent the forgery some additional believability as it added a tremendous weight to the supposed boulder. Now, all she had to do was figure out how it operated.

Resonance could, of course, simply destroy the false rock. That was the most blatant manifestation of her abilities. To most people, even other Paras, it would look as if she held her hands out, focused on an object, and it simply shattered. The truth was her concentration brought it into a destructive resonance that caused it to shake itself apart.

The thing was, she wanted to try to do this as subtly as possible. Much more experienced agents had tried to go after this man. He'd found a way to take each one down in turn. While it was possible that he already would know everything about her the moment she caught his attention, it was also possible that he'd need to study her abilities and take steps to counteract them.

Either way, it paid not to blow up his back door. The longer she went unnoticed the better. It was quite possible that simply opening the door would trigger an alarm but at least if it did it gave him no display of her abilities.

Unless she was mistaken, there were no cameras in the tunnel. Not only had she failed to sense any but the subterranean structure lacked even the necessities for them such as conduit to pass the image back to the building. Even if he had full access to PRA records, he wouldn't have a picture of her to compare with until she was much closer.

The lever was just as laughably simple to discover as the fake rock had been. She had to admit, without her abilities she might never have found it. As it was, the angle of the crack in which it was hidden made it difficult to operate. After no little squirming, she finally managed to reach half her arm down the rock's throat and twist the handle just enough to get the great beast moving. It was more luck than skill that allowed her to pull her hand back out before the mechanism yanked her off her feet.

The passageway down was as bland as the building to which it ran. The metal steps were covered with soft rubber mats to deaden the sound of her footsteps and ensure a better tread. The walls were a bear gray metal and looked about as inviting as the entry to a prison.

Fitting! She thought, considering what he did to those he caught within his domain.

As Resonance slowly descended the stairs, she fought to keep her senses attuned to all of the minute vibrations around her. The narrow confines of the hallway actually helped to focus her sense of the air like a pneumatic tube. She would know instantly if anything approached from a much longer distance than she normally could.

The only downside to the effect was that the compression changed her sense of depth. Until she became accustomed to this specific hallway, the best she could do would be to guess how far away anything was that moved. Still, it was better than nothing, even if it did leave her a little jumpy.

Of course, the added tension didn't help her concentration any. It took effort to filter every subtle shift that occurred. She was loath to ignore the sense she gained from the walls and floor around her. While she knew exactly where and how far the corridor ran, she didn't know what might be hidden within.

As it turned out, there was nothing within the walls. It began to seem as if the passage was exactly what it seemed to be; a direct exit from the lair intended for a discreet and safe escape. Of course, if that was true, even if she managed to overcome the villain, he would very easily be able to flee through one of the other three tunnels, if not that very one.

The next obstacle was relatively simple, if incredibly frustrating. The corridor ended in a door at approximately where Resonance expected the building began above ground. She slapped her gloved hand against the corridor, near the door and her enhanced senses confirmed her suspicion.

The good news was that she could feel the mechanisms within the wall that opened the door. The relatively simple system pulled the metal barrier up into the ceiling. The bad news was that, closed, it formed a completely airtight seal. Worse still, the only activation panel seemed to be on the other side of the door.

As far as she could tell, there was only one option. Resonance had to destroy the door if she hoped to get in this way. It was possible that he had some form of remote to open the doors from outside, since she hadn't seen a handle or panel on the only door on the building either. It was also possible he simply never left the building. Rumor certainly suggested the possibility.


The Villain Ch. 02



The buildings seemed to fly by as Atmos jumped from one to the next. In truth, the analogy was almost accurate. Rather than real flight, however, a brief updraft, as he launched himself from the lip of each building, caused something closer to gliding. It took too much concentration to actually maintain lift for flight. It was something he continued to work on, but he was still too new using his powers to accomplish it.

It felt almost as freeing to finally be registered. In all fairness, he couldn't consider the city he patrolled his. Majoram was the primary hero that protected the city. He was their savior and point of pride. Still, while he was out foiling a destructo beam, or some other major calamity, the crime rate had steadily begun to climb. Hence why the mayor had petitioned the PRA for a couple of additional members for support.

Strictly speaking, Atmos didn't need to patrol the city. By law, he wasn't permitted to assist enforcement against "normals". If the criminals didn't have super powers, or at least super-tech, he was even less able to lend assistance than the average citizen. As such, most heroes tended to remain at base until called in by the proper authorities. After all, the mindset that led them to become heroes in the first place would find it difficult to stand by helplessly while a crime was committed.

Atmos was old-school in his mentality, however. The most dangerous criminals weren't always the ones who swept into a bank and threatened to kill everyone there. The most dangerous were those who kept their profile so low that you never heard about their activities until after they had once more scurried back into their holes.

Besides, although he wasn't allowed to apprehend normal criminals, there was nothing to prevent him from witnessing the crime and testifying against them. There was also a loophole that suggested he might be able to intervene, provided he didn't use his powers at all. That might be difficult, since he'd probably need to use them just to get down from the roof in time to intercede, but it was theoretically possible.

So Atmos decided to defy standard practice and actively patrolled the city like the heroes in the movies always did. It was also how he happened to hear the scream only a block away. He adjusted his run and lept to the street below rather than the next roof in line. A sudden cushion of air erupted beneath him at the last second to prevent terminal deceleration and in a moment he was off along the sidewalk with no powers active, just in case.

The alley wasn't as dark as Hollywood always seemed to create. It was a city. There was enough luminous pollution in most good-sized cities that it never really got too dark to see. What all that ambient light displayed proved he needn't have worried about the precautions. Still, better to get in the habit than to jump in where it could cause trouble.

A man in a ski mask, jeans and a sweatshirt stood over an obviously terrified woman on the ground. It was immediately clear that the rag pressed against her mouth was what had abruptly cut the scream off. Why she didn't simply pull it away only became apparent when he watched the assailant.

One of the man's palms remained stationary pointed directly at her. She tried desperately to rip the rag away with one hand but the telekinesis prevented her. Meanwhile, he flicked his other hand almost negligently in her direction. The buttons on her blouse popped off and half of the shirt slid aside to display a voluptuously filled lace bra. Another flick of his fingers and a nonexistent gust of wind flipped her skirt up. The down-stroke of his hand tore matching lace panties and left them to dangle from one of her knees.

Pathetic! Atmos thought. All that ability and he's going to use it to take advantage of some woman in a back alley?

"Hey?" Atmos focused his mind on the air within the alley, ready to attack as necessary. With a teke, offense was the best option for him. The insubstantial actions of his opponent left nothing for him to defend against. It would pass effortlessly through any wall of air he tried to erect and there was nothing to knock off course.

The would-be rapist turned. With his concentrations blown, the woman was able to pull the rag off of her face and crab-walk back to a corner of the alley. It took the man a moment to identify the source of the interruption. When he did, confusion flashed across his face.

"You're not..." He glanced back over at the frightened woman but returned his full attention to Atmos quickly enough. "Get the fuck out of here, blue boy! This is my piece of ass!"

'Blue Boy'? Atmos was rather proud of his costume. He'd gotten the poly-fiber-titanium fabric done in shades of light blue and white that not only reflected the sky with which he associated his power but also would, eventually, make it almost impossible to spot him. When he actually learned to fly, that was.

"You're in violation of the Paranormal Licensing Act. Article oh-five-six, at the very least. Illegal use of paranormal abilities against an unwilling civilian. I also suspect you're in violation of article oh-oh-seven, unregistered para, and oh-oh-five, registered criminal para."

"Fuck off!" The thug slashed his hand through the air. Atmos flinched automatically. Although his poly-fi-tite armored 'costume' could probably absorb the attack, not all of his body was covered. Most notably, sections of his face were exposed. It was almost a relief when he felt the attack strike his shoulder. However strong the para criminal might be, he wasn't strong enough to cut through the armor.

Atmos had seen enough. The brief observation he'd had of the attack on the woman, combined with the more immediate assault, proved rather handily the criminal's greatest weakness. Whether because of biological requirement or as a psychological crutch, the para didn't seem to be able to use his powers without directing it with his hands. It was possible that was an affectation to throw his enemies off guard, but Atmos wouldn't take any chances.

Without simmilar somatic considerations, Atmos adjusted the pressure in the air that surrounded the other man's wrists. With those invisible cuffs in place, he used nothing more than a strong wind to yank the misguided criminal's arms straight up and out to one side. Even as the man tried to catch his flailing balance, Atmos formed another column of 'hardened' air and slammed it straight into the criminal's temple. All resistance ceased and the man crumpled the moment his hands were freed.

Too easy. Atmos thought to himself. Of course, the poor unfortunate criminal hadn't had the intensive training that he had. He'd been meticulously drilled in the use of his powers to a degree that even many of his instructors couldn't slip a victory by him. Of course, it helped that the level of his single ability vastly exceeded even many of those with multiple, complimentary, powers.

Atmos calmly walked over to the now-unconscious criminal. Careful of possible secondary (or even primary) abilities that were commonly associated with telekinesis, he pulled a single strand of hardened air and used it to bring one, then the other, hand behind the man's back. Once in place, he snapped on a pair of null-cuffs that had been provided by the PRA. With those on, none but the absolute strongest Paras would have any access to their powers.

While he'd been focused on the criminal, the woman had slowly overcome her shock and had begun to pull herself upright, using the wall for support. She looked a mixture of relieved and nervous. He knew the reason and didn't even really blame her for her prejudice. After all, she'd been stripped a quarter naked by a para only a minute ago.

Atmos held up his hands in a placating manner. She flinched, slightly, at the sight of his palms. No surprise since it wasn't much different from the pose that the slime had used to gag her. Unfortunately, it was also the universal sign for unarmed and harmless. Even if he wasn't, technically, either.

"Ma'am. I'm registered with the PRA. My name's Atmos. I've been brought in as support for Majoram."

The name of the much more famous hero broke through her fear. The dam burst and tears of relief flowed as she crossed the few feet and threw her arms around his waist. The amazing armored fabric of his outfit had been meticulously designed to allowed a remarkable level of tactile sensation through so he was acutely aware of the way her breasts pressed against his abdomen.

"Thank God you showed up! I didn't think anything would happen to me. I've used this route forever and it's always seemed so safe before. Then all the sudden I found my legs tangled in my skirt and I was on the ground. He rubbed himself as he stood over me and when I tried to scream I had a rag pressed into my mouth and..."

"Ma'am. Ma'am! You safe now, you're going to be okay, ma'am." Although his training had been thorough on combating other paras, it had included simple civilian management. Unfortunately, he had no practical experience with it like he did the more confrontational aspects of his new job. The best he could do was try soothing nonsense, put his arms gently around her and rub her back.

It worked, thankfully. The tears shuddered to a halt. Those glistening doe-eyes of hers turned upwards to face him and he felt a completely amoral reaction to her presence surge through his body. Fortunately, despite the skin-tight nature of his outfit, a solid cod-piece covered him and prevented the reaction from being noticeable. He hoped.

"Thank you." She whispered in an alto voice that was far too sultry for his sanity. "You rescued me. I want to repay you."

There was little doubt in Atmos' mind exactly what she meant. If there had been, the way her hips rolled against the blessed protection of his cup would have eliminated it. It took all of his trained willpower to resist the urges she had inadvertently triggered.

"It's...that's quite all right, ma'am." Atmos choked out. "It's my duty. Nothing more."

The beautiful young woman arched her back slightly as she rubbed upward against his chest. The shift emphasized her chest and caused her already damaged blouse to slip farther open. Another pulse of desire raced through him and he feared too much more and even the cup wouldn't be enough to hide his lust.

"Oh, I understand." Those doe-eyes blinked at him. "Still, there's a very natural reaction to such stressful, life-threatening, situations. I'm a psychologist. It's completely natural to feel the need to affirm life in the face of violence. It's healthy, even."

Atmos' arms hung away from his body, slightly. He'd pulled them back from her, aware that if he didn't he might be tempted to continue holding her closer and closer. Uncertain of how to handle the situation, he didn't even resist when she pushed him backward until his back rested against the wall of the alley.

"Please." She whispered. Her hands had traveled down to his belt. His brain completely froze as the conflicting demands of his conscience and body warred to respond. Before he had even begun to make up his mind, she had his belt undone and had begun to tug at the form-fitting waistline of his pants. "Is there anything in the rules against a citizen thanking her protector?"

Distracted, he tried to think through all of the rules and regulations he'd been forced to memorize. "Uh...Article one-one-eight. Licensed paranormal operatives are not allowed to accept any monetary or material remuneration in return for registered services, except from the PRA or dually designated organizations in their stead."

"Well then!" She said with a grin, as she begun to peel down his pants. "That doesn't cover services freely offered. Or additional non-paranormal services rendered for the grateful citizen."

Atmos thought it was probably against the spirit of the rules, if not the letter. By that point, however, the only line of defense between him and her actions was a pair of thoroughly normal boxers. The moral objections began to systematically shut down as she rubbed him through the specious protection of his underwear.

When it became clear he couldn't resist, she reached under the elastic band and pulled out his semi-turgid form. Her smile grew, delighted by what he'd always considered to be remarkably average size. Of course, as she'd pointed out, at the moment she was still high on surviving a life-and-death situation.

With her knees slightly on either side of his legs, and her hips rolled slightly towards him, the cleft of her legs was open. She pressed her groin against his thighs and began to stroke him. Between her hands and the warmth of the soft stomach against which she rubbed him, he grew fully hard in moments.

For a man who controlled every aspect of the air, it was amazing how little of it managed to fill his lungs. His mind fogged so quickly all he could think of was her expert touch. Electricity seemed to arc beneath his skin and a heat completely unaccounted for by the warmth of her body flooded his balls.

The woman stepped back for a moment. Atmos finally managed to gasp a full breath. Too bad it did nothing to clear his head. Something told him he really shouldn't accept, he should stop this before he took advantage of the charged situation, but her logical argument continued to echo in his thoughts and prevent any reasoned resistance.

Atmos found himself rock solid and immoveable when she slipped her thumbs beneath the elastic of her skirt and dropped it to the ground. The tattered remains of her blouse quickly followed. Her perfect curves stood bare before him, covered only with the skimpy off-white lace of her bra. Darker flesh peeked through the flimsy material and revealed nipples as solid as his own lust. Even still, his mind riveted on the shaved smooth flesh that pointed inevitably towards the pink folds between her legs.

The woman stepped forward once more and his view narrowed to the sight of her cleavage, as she pressed her body against his once more. His length remained trapped between them. His body was, painfully, aware of how little effort it would require to dip down then surge back up and pierce the core of her. Only the continued paralysis of his conscience prevented just that.

She took the decision from his hands. One knee slid up his thigh and hip and came to rest at his hip. On one leg, she lifted herself. A sigh of a moan escaped from Atmos at the feel of her silken body as it slid up the underside of his shaft. The world seemed to pause when it suddenly popped forward, as the gap of her legs reached past the tip.

For one heavenly moment, she remained perched at the very tip of his lust. He pressed slightly into the soft folds of her temple. He had time to begin to wonder if her lack of moisture would be painful when she lifted her other leg and let gravity impale her on his solid form. A flash of pain raced to Atmos' mind to be quickly subsumed by the demanding pressure her weight caused as she pressed against his base.

"Oh, yes. Yes!" She moaned. Tight, dry, flesh gripped him as she used the wall to lift herself almost fully off of him. She dropped back and his knees nearly buckled. Her arms around his neck supported her weight and only the support of the wall allowed him to remain upright.

Up she drew herself and the pounded back down. His hands reached out to clutch her hips and she worked him faster and faster. Pressure began to build between his legs. His shaft tingled with each moan, "yes" and "oh god" she muttered. His body tried to respond to her rhythm but she worked him so fiercely he couldn't concentrate.

the muscles in her core twitched. Her grip tightened and released him quickly in succession as a heavenly moan escaped her.  "I'm cumming. God, I'm cumming!" It was too much for Atmos. The burning seed raced up a too-small tube and pounded back into her. She never missed a beat as she milked his shaft and kept his mind lost in the clouds.

Too soon, she slowed and climbed off of him. Atmos sagged down the wall to sit on a milk crate carelessly tossed into the alley. His eyes tracked her as she walked over to her discarded purse. She was amazing. All of that, that climax!, and her legs didn't even shudder as she walked to the other side of the alley dug around in her bag and put on a new pair of underwear with a practiced ease.

She practically stalked back towards him. She negligently tossed her purse to the ground with her skirt as she stood there and gave him the once-over. The frightening light in her eyes said she wasn't done with him yet. The new panties were a solid, almost satin, material but the hugged her so perfectly that they enticed nearly as much as the lace would have.

Atmos opened his mouth and tried to say something when she crouched in front of him. A finger trailed down the sticky length of his now-soft manhood. She regarded it for a moment then looked up with a smile. "That was for saving my life. I still haven't thank you for saving me from what else he intended."

As soft as he was, her mouth fit easily around the full size of his manhood. It was simplicity itself for her to push her lips all the way to his base and press her jaw against his groin. He never, in a million years, would have thought he'd be ready to go within minutes of such a climax. Suddenly, he found himself growing within her mouth.

Her jaw dropped open to accommodate the new mass. Her tongue circled his length, drawing off the residue of her previous actions. He could begin to feel her throat convulse as she quickly swallowed it down, to make room for more. When he threatened to pierce the back of her throat, she merely tilted her head back to open herself more fully to him.

Atmos lacked the strength to thrust. He barely managed to reach up to cup her head, in a feeble attempt to stop her. Her fingers curled around his, tangled his in her hair, before they dropped back down to grip his thighs.

Up and down she began to bob. As tight and as hot as her body had been, her mouth was even moreso! Add in the insufferable humidity, as saliva coated his hard form, and he began to climb towards release even quicker than he had the first time.

Despite his lack of strength, his tangled hands fooled his body into the belief that he controlled the thrust of her head. He began to pulse within her mouth. Even the occasional seizure, as she took him in slightly wrong and gagged, quickened his need to release.

Every single stroke was a deep-throat. As she drew herself up, she sucked him in. When she buried her lips into his groin her teeth teased him lightly.

"Oh god. You have to stop. Stop. Stop, now!"

She ignored him. He tried to warn her what was about to happen but it only spurred her to plant her face against his body. He twitched twice and then felt a second explosion race up and out of him. Her quick shift pulled her back just far enough that he spilled himself in her mouth rather than injecting it directly into her throat.

A twist of her head and she once more began to glide up and down his shaft mercilessly. Lightning coursed through his veins. Only the strength sapped by his earlier orgasm prevented him from writhing out of control. His weakness allowed her to milk even more seed than he'd shot into her as she rode him.

She refused to stop!

She moans quickly turned to gasps as sensation overwhelmed him. Half a minute of constant, mind-numbing, ecstasy later and he could do little else but giggle timidly as his body ceased to respond. Her head finally stopped but her tongue continued to probe and cleanse, carefully avoiding losing any of the treasure he'd already deposited while she sought out the last dregs.

Immobile, he watched as she tipped her head back. Her tongue peeked out of her tight-lipped smile and caught a stray drop he'd managed to slip past. She hurriedly slip back on her skirt, draped her ruined blouse over her shoulders and scurried off, a satisfied smirk on her face.




The Villain Ch. 02



Atmos didn't care if the city burned down, in that moment. He was so satisfied, beyond pleasure, he was content to let himself laze about on the milk-crate. Eventually, he'd have to take care of the criminal, but not yet.





The Villain Ch. 03a



The Villain III

Part 1: Rules were made to be bent

The best thing, Electron had decided, about being in a superhero team was the fact that he was surrounded by beautiful, powerful, athletic, women. This was made even better by the fact that most of them tended to subconsciously compete with each other for attention. Over time, even the most determined feminist among them ended up cutting farther and farther back on the opaque portions of her poly-fiber-titanium fabric armored costume until they were barely legal by civilian standards of legal decency.

Of course, paras were subject to a different set of laws than norms. For the most part, those laws limited the freedoms of those with unusual capabilities. In a few cases, however, they allowed for a bit more lenience. Of course, in this case, it was probably because the people who ran the world, generally straight white men and always normals, were misogynistic enough to want to ogle the women who had just saved the world.

Electron wasn't about to complain. There were five women on his team and all of them had been around long enough to have costumes that would make the skimpiest bikini blush in embarrassment. He'd long ago lost count of how many times he'd rubbed one out while fantasizing about any of them. He couldn't even say that he had a favorite to masturbate to. They were all hot beyond imagining and each had a different enough personality that they each had their own merits.

The downside to being part of a team was that liaisons were frowned upon. They had to work seamlessly together and those kinds of complications could lead to jealousy and other hard feelings. Given that Electron probably ended up brushing up against one or more of his scantily clad compatriots daily, and the ensuing reaction he needed to suppress, he ended up servicing himself daily. On particularly stressful days, it could become multiple times.

Some heroes and heroines sought their release away from the team. He often half-jokingly hypothesized that sex was the only real reason why a para would find the need for a secret identity. If you weren't satisfied at home, you had to go out and find somewhere to make up for the absence.

"Except, strictly speaking, they could be satisfied at home." Electron nearly choked on his soda as he sat bolt upright in response to the unexpected voice. A voice that responded to his very thoughts rather than anything he'd said out loud.

Dammit! You know you have to be careful of even what you think around here. You shouldn't have let your shields lapse like that!

Electron turned slowly around on the couch, to look behind him. The intruder was exactly who he'd expected it would be. Memnos stood in the doorway, hand on her hip, with her chest slightly thrust forward. The blond bombshell's breasts, that perpetually seemed like they should spring free of the deceptively tiny outfit, were one reason she factored highly in his fantasies. The thread that passed between her legs seemed equally at risk of slipping played a much larger role than the overall skimpiness, however, in her placement of his desires.

"Don't worry," her sultry mezzo-soprano soothed, "I didn't need my powers to know what you were thinking. The impressive bulge in your jeans spoke volumes."

Electron was acutely aware that the bulge had grown with only seconds of exposure to his teammate. A few more seconds and he was likely to be fully hard and painfully constrained within his tight pants. Memnos wasn't out to help the situation any, either. Her hips swaggered back and forth as she entered the room and navigated around to the front of the couch.

His breath shortened at the sight of her walk. Each sway of her hips threatened to expose the luscious mounds barely hidden between her legs. He'd never seen it, never seen any of his female companions truly naked, but the transparent armored fabric left little to the imagination. That little bit, however, was more than enough to consume a majority of Electron's thoughts.

It didn't dawn on Electron that he was still slouched on the couch until Memnos sat on the coffee table right in front of him. When she placed a leg on either side of him and settled down, his knees were all but pressed against her crotch. The way only his head and shoulders were elevated left him looking down the length of his body and directly at the enticing woman and her scant costume.

Electron tried to explain away his thoughts, or at least his now-obvious physical reaction to her presence, but all that escaped was a slight mewl of pain. As anticipated, his pants were now far too tight for the straining form within. The curled corner of her lips proved that she understood exactly what he felt, even without the pointed looks she kept shooting between his legs.

"I just read through the rules governing team decorum and it doesn't actually strictly prohibit relationships between team members. It cautions against them but doesn't forbid."

Electron was too shocked, initially, at the thought that she had read all the way through those rules to really notice what she'd said. After all, the manual was something like three hundred and fifty pages of tiny print. No one but a computer, or someone with a photographic memory, could keep them all straight. He suspected that the scope of the minutia governed within the rules was so that, at any given point, the norms who monitored every team could always find something of which agent was in violation.

Then the reality of what she'd said sank in and Electron felt a fresh surge of blood flood his already strained manhood. Could the goddess of lust personified have just read through the entire manual and come to the conclusion that she could fuck any team member she wanted? More importantly, he was the first person to whom she had brought this information.

"In fact, the wording is careful enough that it seems to openly allow for casual liaisons." She continued. "I suspect that's actually the real reason that they are so explicit about the fact that handlers have no technical authority over their charges. Without that, they can't be accused of exploiting their power."

Everyone knew how much bullshit that particular section of the laws was. They'd had to be careful when writing the laws, or else paras could be viewed as slaves to the norms. Especially the norm agents assigned to monitor their activities. In reality, however, the appraisal of a handler meant the difference between accolades and imprisonment.

What Memnos implied, however, made sense. A lot of the people who ended up in those positions of implied authority were bigots. Like so many throughout history, the prejudice covered up a secret infatuation with something that they felt was socially unacceptable. They'd claim, if cornered, that the misuse of power was nothing of the sort because they barely even saw the objects of their lusts as human beings.

In this case, the technicality that they left open for themselves worked in the favor of those they watched over. All the handlers had to do was emphasize the sections worth of disapproval and fail to note the lack of actual rules that prohibited it. In order for anyone to know the difference, they would have to read through every page to make sure they hadn't missed anything.

And if anyone had been thorough enough to accomplish that, it was certainly Memnos.

Electron's breath became even more shallow as the full implications hit. He felt lightheaded with elation. He feared his mental shield had begun to crack under the strain. What would happen if she caught wind of some of the fantasies that had floated through his mind over the past year?

The mischievous gleam in her eye suggested that nothing bad would come of such revelations. In fact, her own breathing had begun to deepen. A fact he noticed even more prominently because she leaned forward, slightly, to more prominently display her impressive cleavage. Cleavage that had begun to strain even more against the sparse cloth of the costume that held it.

Something about that thought niggled at Electron's mind but he couldn't grasp it fully. In a moment, even the attempt was beyond him when she reached out and took his hands in her own. She guided his hands towards her voluptuous hips and left them there while hers returned forward to rest on his.

Electron marveled once more at the miraculous fabric that protected them all. It could be made in any color, or even completely transparent. Furthermore, while it could protect them from a high-caliber bullet, it allowed enough sensation through that he could feel everything as if it were his own skin. He'd never thought the same applied to the outside of the material, however.

Memnos' eyes drifted halfway closed when he began to run his hands up and down her silky sides. She moaned slightly. Electron barely noticed. His attention was mostly stuck on her heaving breasts and the delicious "v" of the junction of her legs.

He couldn't stand it. A small part of his mind screamed that this was too good to be true. He must have drifted off to sleep while watching TV. The heat came because it had certainly been too many days since he last masturbated.

"If this is a dream, which one of us is dreaming?" Memnos asked in a contented purr.

Electron's hands froze. She'd read his mind. There was no doubt this time. Every other time before he could have believed she read his body language, but that had been too specific. For that matter, as a mistress of the mind, how could he even be certain that this wasn't a dream? One that she had joined him in.

"I'm sorry. I can't help but read you right now. What you're doing feels so good that I can't help but focus on you." He felt her shudder beneath his light touch. "The way the sight of me excites you turns me the hell on. Those wisps of fantasy that leak through your shields make me weak."

As she spoke, in an incredible show of flexibility, Memnos' head drooped to rest her cheek on his thigh. The new position impaired his view considerably but his body reacted just as strongly to her proximity to his desire. The thought must have been "loud" because she shuddered helplessly and moaned longingly.

Electron's hands began to glide across her shoulders now. Her shivers began to come almost constantly. Her hips rocked forward and back and while her crotch, spread slightly to accommodate his knees between her legs, could not reach to relieve her own building pressure he enjoyed the reaction nonetheless.

Dream or not, real or not, he decided to take a chance. His hands drifted across the soft flesh of her shoulders and around, intent on the luscious globes. He froze once more when he encountered the seam at signified the edge of her costume.

That wasn't right. Poly-fiber-titanium was woven to each individual's body. There were no seems in the armored costumes. Even the different colors were all woven in at the time of creation. His eyes widened in surprise and wonder. That meant Memnos had made a costume out of standard fabric that looked identical to her heroine attire.

That also meant barely a piece of floss was all that stood between him and a sight he'd fantasized about since he'd joined the team.

His hand instinctively found the strip of material that ran up the center of her body until it joined the cups of her chest. He whispered a plea of wonder when his fingers wrapped around the fabric rather than tangle in unseen excess.

Memnos sat bolt upright. Her hands flew behind her to support her. Her head dropped back, her eyes now fully closed and her jaw open, as her body arched. He didn't know what it felt like when he tugged the thin strip and caused it to grind against, and dig into, her lust but clearly she enjoyed the sensation.

Electron reveled in the sight before him. Memnos was commonly regarded as one of the most powerful of their group, as was often the case with telepaths. Yet here she was moaning helplessly before him. A simple twist of his wrist tightened her costume further and elicited her body to spasm. Her moans stopped with a gasp.

Aside from the view of her nether lips, accented by the strip of fabric that cut between them, this was still a side of Memnos he had never seen. Because of the nature of her powers, she was always so composed, so in control. Now, he could even feel the brush of her mind against his as her carefully wrought defenses collapsed. Each mental caress brought a heightening of his own desire as he responded to her lust.

That was the moment Electron noticed the hematite bangles around her wrists. Memnos wasn't known for jewelry, especially in her costume. Even if she were, the dark gray bands would have clashed with her overall color scheme.

Electron thought he knew what those decorations were for. A quick pulse of his power, unnoticeable to anyone without electromagnetic capabilities, confirmed his suspicions. They weren't made from hematite, like first glance would assume, but hematine. The man-made substance was similar in appearance but possessed a magnetic field.

Electron's interest was fully piqued. He shifted his weight up and back until he sat fully upright. If he neglected to keep his hand steady while he adjusted his position, Memnos didn't seem willing to complain. Although he thought the reverse wedgie had to have gotten to the level of painful by now, she merely whimpered. Given the level of moisture that seeped around the edges of the fabric, her reaction wasn't faked.

As quickly as his battle-honed reflexes could manage, Electron reached down with his free hand and cupped under her thigh. When he lifted her, she overbalanced and began to fall backwards. He finally released his grip on her costume and used both hands to roughly guide her through the fall. Instead of her back, Memnos landed hard on her shoulder. Before she could react, he continued along her momentum and rolled her until her taught waist pressed against the edge of the table.

"Electron..." She gasped out.

She tried to look over her shoulder at him but a single hand on her back prevented the action. He waited a moment, until she tried to push herself up with her arms, and then flexed his own power. A simple magnetic field caught hold of those taunting bangles and ripped her hands out from under her. Her arms splayed straight out, stretched to the far corners of the table.

"You want this."

It was a statement, not a question. There was no doubt in his mind that she did. It wasn't even on a subconscious level. Like all of their team, she knew his powers didn't simply cover electricity, but also magnetic fields. Besides, if she didn't want it, a single blast of her mental powers could have him thinking he was a poodle, much less lay him out cold.

"Mmmm Hmmmm." Memnos moaned. Her body struggled against the magnetic bonds. His hips now pressed against hers and completed the trap, preventing her any movement.

Electron reached down with his free hand. He patted her silky ass, still too uncertain of her desires to try to bring pain into play. Better to take things one step at a time. She clearly wanted to be dominated, but that didn't mean she'd be into anything else.

His hand pressed between their bodies. Immediately he felt her sticky desire and was almost surprised it hadn't soaked his pants as well. She gasped at the contact. With a grin, he rubbed his hand up and down. He memorized the feel of her clit beneath his fingertips and the pit that would soon be uncovered. There was no guarantee Electron would ever get this chance again, so he wanted to make certain he thoroughly experienced it.

His ministrations hadn't gone unnoticed. Her legs slid apart, unable to bear her weight. Her body shuddered. She moaned with each pass of his fingers. Beneath his touch, he could feel her muscles quiver. When he passed over her greedy pussy, she feebly attempted to grip his fingers and pull them within her, only to be foiled by her own attire.

"Please." Memnos whimpered. "It's been too long. I need...Don't just tease. Please."

"You need what?" Electron taunted. He knew what she wanted. They both knew. But this was simply a means for him to assert his control over her. Her every word, every thought, was always carefully controlled. He'd make her shout the obscenities she could never allow herself to even contemplate.

"I need you." She answered. She wasn't ready yet.

Memnos whimpered when both his fingers and body backed away from her. Her hips tried to follow but the cuffs and the hand still planted between her shoulder blades prevented the motion. He took his time to unbutton his pants. If he could have, he would have let his pants and boxers drift to the floor instead of let them just drop to his knees.

His cock sprang free of his underwear thick and hard. It pointed at her in accusation, as if to say "this is your fault and you're damn well going to solve the not-so-little problem for me." From the way she shivered beneath him, she heard the unspoken and agreed. Of course, aside from outright attacking him, little choice remained to her now.

"God!" She groaned when his finger found its way back to her. Rather than just rub, he sought out the edge of her costume and slid beneath. Her pussy quivered desperately with him poised to open her wide. She squeaked when the tip of his penis pressed against her clit to flick back and forth against her sensitive mound.

"What was it you wanted?" Electron asked once again.

His finger lightly traced the outer edge of her sopping wet hole. Her breath had become ragged. Her hips rolled feebly in a constant attempt to spur him on. Her arms had ceased their struggles and her fists clenched and opened in a desperate attempt to relieve a very different pressure within her body.

"I want you to make love with..." Her answer was cut short by a single stabbing thrust of his finger. He barely managed to pull himself free when he retreated. He carefully hid his own sudden spike of desire. If her body was that desperate to milk his finger, he could barely imagine what it would feel like wrapped around his throbbing cock.

"No!" Electron growled. "Try again."

"Have sex with...aaaaAAAAAAH!"

She was so close that he couldn't believe it. There was no question in his mind that the final act would push her over the edge. Hell, all he had to do was add a second finger. Of course, to do so would be to give her back some sense of control. He removed all contact between her legs. Tears began to leak from her tightly shut eyes.

"What?" She whispered. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth." Electron growled simply. Even his voice sent shivers through his captive.

He felt her inner defenses snap like a slap across his brain. Pure sensation rushed through his veins like wildfire. This was what she felt. Every muscle stretched like a rubber band. Every nerve screamed in vain. Every joint ached for release.

"Fuck me!" Memnos screamed. "Shove your dick inside me and open me wide! Drill you cock so far up me that I can taste it! Cum inside me until I pop like a balloon! FUCK ME!"

Electron grinned. His hand flashed forward to grip the offensive little strip of fabric just as tightly as he had when he begun her torment. This time, however, the slightest trickle of electricity weakened the sodden material and caused it to rip after only moments of biting into her soft flesh.

There was nothing gentle about the way he threw his hips forward. It wasn't what he wanted and she no longer controlled herself. So long as she got what she needed, in a general sense, the rest was up to him. The scream that erupted as his thick cock forced its way past her tight muscles was mixed pain and pleasure.

And all relief.

It wasn't the stream of obscenities that poured out of her mouth that told him she came immediately. He didn't need anything as direct as her confirmations. Electron knew by the way her pussy clutched him and pulled him deeper.




The Villain Ch. 03a



Even if she hadn't demanded that he relieve his own tension inside of her, she was no longer in any state to prevent it. Her concentration was to scattered to form any kind of mental attack. Her voice had already grown raw from the string of curses attempting to goad him on. Even her body betrayed her true desire through its reluctance to let him retreat. Even if only to pound himself deeper within her.

There was no question on his part either. He was drunk on the sense of power, the control, the domination over her. Her body was spread wide open before him, completely at the mercy of his power and his strength. Her explosive climax was his doing. Every fiber of his being demanded that he stake his claim by leaving part of himself so far inside her that she would always bear a small reminder of his conquest in some corner of her psyche.

His hips pumped in time with her screams. His cock throbbed wider every time she clutched him and pulled him deeper. He spread her tight pussy before him even as his body slapped against her enflamed clit.

The pressure inside his core grew too great. In one heavenly moment, it exploded outward. The molten seed burned its way up a tube too small to contain it even has his hips ground against her. His cock swelled one last time, pushing itself even deeper than before and thrusting her demented body aside. His head flung back with a scream as he emptied the contents of his lust inside of her.

Time whited out for an indeterminate infinity. Some part of his mind knew he continued to thrust, to push and pour more and more of his essence into Memnos. All at once it seemed to go on forever and last only an instant.

Then, it was over. He lay across her back, nearly as weak and helpless as she was. Their bodies remained connected, though he'd begun to shrink. Soon, he'd be soft enough that he'd slip out of her well-lubed temple. When that happened, some of his lust trickled out to seep down their legs. The vast majority, he noted with pride, remained inside of her.

Belatedly, he thought to worry how close to fertility she might be. Almost immediately, he managed to shove the thought aside, however. Although he'd been dominant, she had seduced him. Either she knew she wouldn't become pregnant or she wanted a child.

If the later, there was nothing he could do now except feel flattered that she'd chosen him to be the father of what would promise to be a powerful para. Still, from the sense of emotion he'd felt when their minds had touched, he felt confident she wanted no such thing. She'd needed exactly what she screamed out. It had been too long and she'd lost her ability to resist.

"Wow." Electron mumbled.

"You know," Memnos murmered while she snuggled her shoulders against his firm chest. "I'm not the only one who has reached the breaking point."

"Hmm?" He responded inarticulately, uncertain what she meant.

"Lioness has all the instincts of a cat. She locks herself in her room every couple of months." Memnos reminded him. When it became clear that he didn't follow, she spelled it out for him. "She goes into heat. She can't trust herself around any male, much less ones she fights along side. All us girls have been more than a little surprised none of you three stumbled upon that secret."

Electron grunted in amusement. They say you can't rape the willing, but given Lioness' strength and determination, it would probably be damn close! Everyone knew about her time off. She spent three days in her room without even coming out for food. Given her supernatural endurance, being trapped with her for that entire time might even be enough to kill a man!

"And, of course, if you manage to convince either Twin Gun or Photon there's no question you'd end up with the other sooner rather than later. Who knows, you might even get a threesome out of it."

That also made sense. After all, those two had a notorious rivalry going on. Twin Gun might be the group's handler but she was one of the rare good ones. She just wanted to be a heroine herself so she applied herself to exceptional marksmanship and acted like she was just one of the gang. Given that Photon shot lasers from her hands, the natural rivalry between two shooters ended up boiling over into the rest of their lives.

Electron fell onto his side when Memnos suddenly rolled over. She continued her motion in order to end up facing him. Her expression was as serious as he'd ever seen it. "I wouldn't approach Mercury, however. I don't think she'd be all that receptive to this kind of thing."

He nodded in understanding. If anyone could give him advice as to who would be uncomfortable about these things, it would be a telepath.

Electron trailed a finger up her exposed midriff, flicking the ruined costume out of the way. Memnos favored him with a playful giggle and pushed against his shoulders. "Come on. We've both got to get cleaned up and I need to find a new outfit. After all, you never know when disaster might strike."

He sighed contentedly when she straddled his legs in an effort to walk past him. The sight of the trail of cum that dribbled down her leg inspired a renewed energy. She looked down at the hardening length with a hungry smile but shook her head.

"Besides," she added, "now that we know the truth, there'll be plenty of time for fun later."

As Memnos flitted out of the room, Electron pulled his pants back on and flopped back onto the couch. He didn't have the energy for anything now. The city could be falling down around his ears and he would be useless to help.

He decided it was a feeling he could definitely get used to.

~~~~~~~~~~

Memnos had reason to smile while she washed up in the shower. She'd been assigned to this team exclusively as a spy, with explicit instructions to do nothing that could bring her loyalty in question. In no uncertain terms, "espionage, not sabotage!"

This particular ploy had been too good to pass up, however. Especially because it was all true! She'd found, in Electron, someone mind-blind enough that she could afford to let her guard down without fear that her partner would be able to read her secrets. Important when she lost all control in the throws of passion.

From there, it was simplicity in itself to point out the nature of the other women in the group. Would it be her fault if Electron didn't bother to think about how sleeping with all of them would effect the team? No. It wasn't. Even without that bonus, however, she'd have gone ahead. She needed to get laid!

Icing on the cake that he was a good fuck. Mmmmmmm. Icing. Now there's a thought for next time. Only then I'll be strapped to a bed. Far more comfortable. I might even lick some off of him if he's a good enough master.

Copyright December 2012, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 03b



Part 2: Feral Engagements


Lioness sat in the corner of her room with her knees pressed against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She rocked back and forth slightly. All she could do was wait for it to pass. Her body burned with need. Every nerve was at once both tingling and pained. And just because she was used to the sensation, didn't make it any more bearable.

Every couple of months, the same feline DNA that gave her super powers drove her with an entirely different instinct. She was forced to lock herself in her room with enough food and drink to tide her over until her heat passed. She was certain that the other members of her team thought of her as an unmitigated diva but there was nothing she could do about it. If she didn't take those precautions she'd be on top of, or beneath, every man she came into contact with. 

Worse, the effects weren't just limited to the heat cycle, either. Sure, those three days, or so, marked the worst physical symptoms but it was the psychological aspects that shamed Lioness the most. If she had known about those when she signed up for the experiment, she would never have agreed. If she thought, for a moment, that the scientists had realized what her psyche would go through before they implanted the genetic material she would have long since sought them out and dispensed her own kind of justice.

The problem lay in the nature of her heat. Like all animals, it represented a period of highest fertility and caused an instinctive draw to procreate. Unlike animals, however, she suffered more than a physical motivation. Her heat cycles actually rewrote her subconscious in an effort to change her personality to better drive her towards pregnancy.

Long-term birth control was a necessity for her. It became quite clear to everyone after a few cycles, however, that she couldn't be trusted with that particular decision and so power of attorney had been invoked for this particular issue. The phantom pain deep within her core was her mind's attempt to demand she have the IUD removed.

That wasn't the least of her problems. Over time, her personality developed to more accurately suit the men around her. All that mattered to her subconscious was what could most accurately entice a willing partner. At this point, Lioness had lived with the condition for so long that she could no longer remember what she'd been like before the experiment.

Where the other women might not even realize that their costumes became more and more revealing over time, as a form of competition for attention, Lioness was fully conscious of her own actions. It was all she could do to remember that there were still some decency laws that applied to paras. Thankfully, the fact that she needed her feline form in order to utilize her superior abilities added a measure of modesty that her psychosis would have otherwise prevented.

Thus, Lioness rocked in the corner in her costume. Nothing more than a thin bikini. She couldn't even convince herself to add a top to the supposed ensemble. After all, silky orange-yellow fur concealed her nipples. Otherwise, she was no more exposed than anyone covered head to foot in spandex.

Of course, everyone was aware of her state of nudity. She saw it in the eyes of the citizens she saved. The men ogled her and barely managed to keep their hands from groping, or outright molesting, her. They thought it was for their own safety. She had a reputation as a fierce and feral fighter. In truth, it was for their safety but not in the way they thought. If they knew the truth they probably would have happily taken the risk.

Lioness whimpered helplessly. She was only half-way through the current cycle. Some would probably try to say she only had a day left, two at most. That was all well and good for someone who didn't suffer through the heat. To her, even that single day seemed like an eternity of desire, need, lust and pain.

The refrigerator remained untouched, even after a day-and-a-half. She'd stocked it, as she always did, for the full three days. She never touched it until the heat had passed, however. At which point, she ravaged the contents in an orgy of hunger that mocked the denied pleasures of the rest of the time. Only when she'd regained her strength, as well as her composure, would she be released from her semi-self-imposed prison.

Lioness was never sure whether her weakening was a blessing or a curse. It didn't lessen the pain or desire she felt. It only signaled the encroaching end to her misery. Now, about halfway through her heat, she was still stronger than the average man. By the end, she would be so weak that even the most feeble person could take advantage of her.

Not that she wouldn't roll over and spread herself if someone merely hinted that was his predilection.

Lioness found herself thankful that all three of the men on the team seemed inclined to approve of strong women. All it would take was one misogynistic bastard, especially if he seemed the most likely to approach her, and she'd find herself a mewling kitten rather than the great Lioness!

Where once she had thought herself a strong, independent, woman, now she hated herself. She hated her life. And, most of all, she hated the pain that coursed through her veins.

Concentration on her debilitating condition was the only possible reason that her enhanced senses failed to detect the presence of another person in the room. Her world narrowed and time seemed to stop entirely the moment she felt the hand rest on her shoulder. Even her thoughts froze in a tangled confusion of hope and dread.

It took her an agonizingly long moment for her focus to adjust to take in the being that stood before her. The contradiction of emotions spiked the instant she recognized it was a male. In part, nothing else mattered. It was only the civilized portion of her brain that insisted the full identity of her savior was important, and only then because it would define the manner in which she stalked her prey.

The youth and smoothness of his facial features was enough. Scourge had the perpetual roguish scruff of a two-day beard while Daedalus was clean-shaven but with a much sharper jaw line. Truthfully, there was little difference in the method with which she would pursue each of the three. It was mostly a matter of how aggressively she would act.

Lioness completely missed what Electron had said. All she could hear was the pounding beat of her heart as it roared in her ears. He asked again but her results were no better. From the concerned look on his face, he probably asked if she was all right.

No! She wanted to scream it. Not only was she not okay but he shouldn't be there. His presence turned her from "not okay" into total catastrophe!

Instincts took over, however, and prevented even the thought of denial. Her dread evaporated beneath a flood of endorphins. Her personality adjusted based on what she knew of the young man. Like most paras, he wasn't very experienced in positive social contact. When combined with his middle-class upbringing, she suspected what he'd want.

A friendly, reassuring, smile crept across her face. She was amused that it caused a slightly confused, slightly nervous, reaction from him. All at once she knew that he knew about her condition. He might not know exactly what to expect, and part of him feared what she was capable of, but he understood the bottom line. That he was there at all meant he sought exactly what she wanted from him.

With every bit of the lithe agility at her disposal, Lioness uncurled from her corner. Even as she rose to stand in front of him, she began to transform. Down shifted her ears. Her mouth and nose flattened and her fur receded into her soft, supple, skin. By the time she stood, her body mere inches from his, she had returned to her fully human form.

There were some people who were turned on by her anthropomorphic body. It allowed them to fantasize about her without the guilt that might occur if she was a 'real' human. Mostly, it was a means to objectify her. When faced with reality, most men would pick a youthful human woman over the lioness every time.

The other consideration was that the feline form intimidated most people, especially those who knew her. Electron had fought beside her uncountable times. He would associate that form with her strength and destructiveness. She could tell, by the look in his eyes, that the shift away from it greatly reduced his nerves and emboldened his desire.

It helped that she remained topless. What, in her feline body, was suggestive of nudity was downright naughty in her human form. Pert, pink, nipples captured and mesmerized Electron. No, he didn't often get to see the full glory of the female form. She began to wonder if he had ever seen a women completely naked with the lights on.

The chest which so fascinated him arched forward and down. With a roll of her spine, Lioness pressed her breasts against his firm body and began to rub up his chest. It was a feline instinct of marking territory but one that also brought so much relief to overwhelmed nerves. He was firm. He was there. He was real and not some figment of her imagination conjured during masturbation for a specious sense of completion.

Electron opened his mouth. It didn't matter what he wanted to say. It never had. He'd walked into her lair. Even if he hadn't realized what that meant, it was enough for her to have him there. That he did know made everything else irrelevant. Words were meaningless. Only actions mattered.

Lioness stretched on her toes until her face was nearly even with his. She tilted her head up and leaned the last little bit until she could catch his lower lip gently between her teeth. He moaned in appreciation as she suckled his lip. She moaned in response when his hips began to grind his groin against her demanding body.

Her hands glided up his chiseled body, beneath the loose tank-top he wore. He shivered because of the contrails her nails traced across his chest. His lust jammed forcefully against her when she flicked across his tiny nipples. If not for the few layers of fabric, her salvation would have begun in that instant.

The clothes had to go but she couldn't be too aggressive about it lest she scare him off. She might still be stronger than him, physically, but she knew about his powers. It was mere reflex to send a jolt through his enemy, in imitation of a taser. No matter how strong she was, how insistent her will, even she could not move when her muscles seized.

Lioness' hands slid up across his toned chest. He let out a sigh of disappointment that she had stopped playing with his nipples but he instantly lifted his arms to accommodate her. She lifted his shirt off without any fanfare and tossed it aside. He seemed equally depressed that her lips had left his. A purr rumbled to life within her when her feverish breasts pressed against the cool strength of his chest.

Instead of tearing at his pants, Lioness surprised herself when her arms wrapped around behind him. She began to rub her cheek against his hard body and, though she lacked the scent gland in her human guise, the simple action soothed some of the inferno that raged within her. Apparently, her subconscious had picked up a desire within him for a gentle, romantic, lover.

She could hear the rapid beat of his heart; feel the flush of blood through his veins. Even still, when his arms responded to her pose to surround her with the safety of his embrace, his flesh felt cool in comparison to the heat, both literal and figurative, that she had suffered for that eternal day-and-a-half. The purr within her torso redoubled in strength until it shook both of their bodies.

"Lioness." His voice was a mere whisper but the promise within it echoed through her body as if it had been a thousand decibels. A shudder passed through her body. Her legs melted, unable to hold up her weight. Only the strength of their combined embrace held her up.

Electron dipped a hand down to cup her ass and lend additional support. She didn't need animal instincts or heightened senses to understand what he wanted. Although he already held most of her weight, it was no simple matter to bring her legs up to wrap them around his waist. His mere presence seemed to sap her of her will to move.

He tightened his grip once she was secured. It caused her body to ship upward. For a timeless moment, her world seemed to explode. Lightning, that had nothing to do with his powers, arced between her nipples when they rubbed against his abs and pecs. Her thin cotton bikini offered no protection when the seam of his jeans rubbed harshly against her clit. Her loins went nova, pressed against the hard length of his shaft.

Before she knew it, a cloud pressed against her back and wrapped itself slightly around her shoulders. Even with that security, Lioness felt the utter, universal, loss that his body no longer warmed her. If her own body hadn't continued to twitch helplessly from the electrical explosion, she'd have sought him out. As it was, she couldn't even bring herself to open her eyes.

The next thing she felt, even as her body finally began to calm, were his fingers as they delicately plucked at the thin sides of her underwear-cum-costume. Apparently, Lioness could at least lift her hips to allow him space to easily remove the offensive garment. Her body complained when she had to lower herself so that he could slip it past her feet. Her proper posture was to grant him as much access as possible.

The cool air of Lioness' room bore both a cool balm to her feverish skin but also a sharp bite to an area that had transcended beyond mere heat. The freedom from clothing, that the breeze acknowledged, caused her loins to spasm uncontrollably, demanding the attention of the fertile, strong, male presence.

"I was going to go down on you, but I suspect that would actually be a torment. Wouldn't it? When all I have to do is brush a finger against you?"

Electron suited his actions to his frustrating prattle. Of course, if Lioness had paid a bit more attention to what he was saying, rather than wish desperately he would just fill her already, she would have been prepared. His finger lightly traversed across her tight ass, once around the entirety of her gasping pussy and finally flicked across her swollen clit. Once more, her world exploded and her body felt as if she had been thrown into an electrical generator.

All Lioness could articulate were whimpered screams. It was the closest she could come to eloquent demands that he fuck her. Her entire body felt like lead, except for the hips, which seemed filled with helium. She could feel the strain on her inner thigh muscles that said they were spread as far apart as she could manage. All she could think was that his body, his hips, his dick, would fill the void she felt and allow her a measure of peace during the unendurable inferno.

The mattress shifted beneath her and she, finally!, felt the solid mass of his hips press against the insides of her thighs. Her legs began to shiver, prepared to give way the moment he took control. His hands slid beneath her to cup and grope her ass. Muscles within her core seized for a moment before they released entirely. She was now fully his and all she had to do was ride the sensation and allow him to fill her with his seed.

The tip barely pressed against her and Lioness began to shake and cry out. How had she never managed to slip her various guardians before and experience this? She'd never thought much about sex before she reached her majority, being a bit on the bookish side while her friends happily got it on like hormone-crazed rabbits. And then came the experiment where she lost legal control over her own sexuality.

Surely, this wasn't right! He had her legs spread directly opposite each other. How could it be that he'd only just begun and it already felt like he was going to tear her in half?

Yet each delicious inch that he pushed himself deeper inside of her was unparalleled bliss. It hurt but compared to the burning frustration she'd lived with for nearly a decade it was Heaven. Agonizing ecstasy!

Electron paused for a moment. Lioness could feel from the way he clutched her hips and ass that he continued to push. There was simply no farther for him to go. It didn't really matter that she was freakishly small. The way his muscles rippled, his hands groped, his mouth dropped open, Electron was content. It might not be ultimate satisfaction but it seemed close enough that he would fill her needs and satisfy her continually until her heat receded.

A sharp tear caused Lioness to shriek out in genuine anguish. Something had broken deep inside her core. Sex ed. had taught her it was normal and natural but book knowledge meant nothing in the face of overactive animal instinct. Her primal mind, very nearly all she had left, insisted that she was now defective.

A loud moan proved Electron shared her relief that he was once more free to push himself deeper. Although he did, a moment later he began to retreat.

The quick pace he beat, in and out of her, rapidly shifted the pain of her ripped flesh into a dull aching throb beneath the building pressure of heat he pumped directly into her core. Rather than a distraction, the rhythmic thump of pain blended with his forceful tempo and filled her mind with a haze of static.

This time, the precipice was not nearly as dramatic. Lioness had never fully been brought out of orgasm so the fresh explosion acted more as a wave that crashed across an already flooded plain. Her body went limp, her only motion the random twitches of out-of-control muscles.

Lioness lost track of time. Everything that she had resisted, that her legal guardians had tried to deny her, proved to be the peaks of celestial bliss. She enjoyed the sense of accomplishment when the team foiled a super-powered menace, not to mention the thrill of the danger, but they were nothing compared to this. This was the reason for which her life had been focused. This was the ultimate purpose of the experiments she had undergone!

A discordant flutter crept into Electron's perfect tempo. He seemed to swell inside her, a feat patently impossible since she knew he simple had to already be super-humanly large. The blessed mass that pushed her aside began to pulse spastically even as his rhythm faltered out of sync. Rather than mar the euphoric symphony, however, her body accepted it as the ultimate crescendo and drowned her consciousness in a swell of sensation.

Lioness couldn't breath by the time Electron collapsed bonelessly on top of her. After a moment, he seemed to remember the discrepancy in weight and rolled off to her side as he, also, tried to catch his breath.

The soreness of her torn flesh had almost completely become subsumed beneath the aches of a pussy pounded raw, hips held wide and muscles abused by chaotic demands. Each of the pains seemed a gift, however. A trophy her mind wrapped in memory to cherish in the dark times between her periodic cycles.

At some point, Electron had grown limp and fallen out of her. Despite the catalogue of minor injuries, he wasn't done with her yet. He couldn't be! She had more than a day left and, now that she had experienced what it was supposed to be like, she couldn't imagine the horror of being locked in alone once more.

"More?" She mewled in a barely audible voice?

Electron chuckled, not even opening his eyes. "God damn! Somehow, I managed to keep going for half-an-hour. And that's just cumming! You had to have been going for something like forty-five minutes. Frankly, I'm not sure how I did it the first time!"

Although weak, Lioness managed to roll onto her side. One of her arms lay trapped beneath him but that was fine. She used the last of her strength to flop her free arm over him and pull herself to snuggle against his chest. That was one thing even her instinct understood; the need to rest and recharge occasionally.




The Villain Ch. 03b



Lioness rubbed her cheek against his toned chest content, it seemed like, for the first time ever. She barely noticed his sharp inhale of breath. She couldn't help but notice the sudden hard lump that dug into hip.

"I'll be damned! Apparently you picked up another ability in those experiments." Electron muttered. He inhaled deeply through his nose and instantly came fully back to readiness. "Pheromones. Gotta be. But only in heat or else we'd never have been able to work around..."

Electron's rumination drifted off even as his hips began to shift back and forth. Slowly, his cock began to shift its way between her closed legs.

A purr erupted from Lioness' chest. She couldn't have him denied! He didn't resist when she rolled him onto his back and climbed on top. The moment he started, she now knew, she'd be helpless to move but she had confidence he'd know what to do.

Copyright December 2012, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 03c



Part 3: Unrequited Feelings



Things were changing around the base. Mercury could sense it. There was a tension brewing, and she suspected she knew the cause, though there might be agents at play that she hadn't been able to factor in.

Electron looked almost smug, draped across the couch as he watched TV. Mercury couldn't help but notice that he'd taken to walking around, even lounging, wearing no shirt and only loose boxers. It was the salt in her wound, the insult to injury. She knew he'd started having sex with Memnos and Lioness and, for all she knew, Twin Gun and Photon as well. If he hadn't with the later two, it wasn't for want of trying. After all, even Mercury, as socially awkward as she was, had noticed the pointed suggestions that he could rock their worlds.

She had no doubt that was true. Ever since the team had formed, she'd looked up to the highly charismatic electrical manipulator. He was as fit as Scourge or Daedelus, but something about his youth had particularly attracted the middle-aged heroine. She felt like a cougar every time her thoughts drifted to the promises of his body.

Now that he'd changed his fashion habits, Mercury couldn't deny it. Just the sight of his firm chest began to moisten her underwear. The glimpses of his equipment, stolen when the fly hole shifted just right, made her positively squirm. The first time she'd spotted the impressive sight had been enough to force her to the nearest bathroom to relieve the sudden pressure and heat that had sprouted between her hips.

Through his whole emboldened attitude, however, he had never once made a suggestion in her direction.

Mercury stormed out of the room and towards the kitchen. If Electron had noticed, there wasn't any sign. It wasn't far enough and she felt almost unsatisfied with the miniscule tantrum, especially when he hadn't even acknowledged it.

"Unsatisfied." Mercury mumbled. "Yeah. That certainly describes my life right about now."

"If I were lucky enough to be with a woman like you, I would do whatever I could to make sure you - she - had no reason to complain."

Mercury's pulse spiked. She spun, her hands and back pressed against the island counter. Instinct drove her skin to harden into the shiny metal that gave her her name. It wasn't so much a danger to her body that she worried about but, rather, her pride!

She knew she'd see Daedelus even before her eyes could fully focus on him. With a team as close as they were, it would have been impossible to have mistaken the voice of any of her companions. Unfortunately, that didn't make the fact that she'd been caught bitching about her sex life any less mortifying. She transformed herself back from her metal form and was relieved she wasn't blushing too much.

"Daed! Sorry, I didn't realize you were there. You don't need to hear about my problems. I think I'll head to my room instead."

"No, wait!" The conjurer responded. When he held out his hand, palm forward, a traffic stop sign flashed partially into existence for the briefest moment behind him. It was a sign of how flustered he was that he subconsciously manifested an object that related to his thoughts. "Mary, you know you can talk to me."

He was right. That he knew her given name was proof of that. Of all of them, she had connected most with David "Daedelus" Lusk. She'd opened herself up to him more comfortably than anyone in her life other than, maybe, her third-grade BFF. He was a nice guy, someone safe she could talk to.

"You're right. Sorry. It's just..." Even with him, it was difficult to really explain what Electron made her feel. That was the one area in which she'd never really confided in him. It didn't seem right, for some unknown reason.

"It's just that Electron and Memnos, and probably Lioness as well, have been going at it in every spare moment." Daed supplied for her.

Mercury nodded glumly. "In all fairness, Lioness was only the few days she was in heat."

"Huh." Daed offered thoughtfully. "Is that why she locks herself in every couple of months? I'd kinda wondered, but I guess that makes sense. Probably for everyone's good, in that case. Though I'm not sure about Electron sneaking in, in that case."

"I'm sure if there was a problem, Twin Gun would step in." Mercury suggested a bit uncertainly.

"I dunno." Daed returned. "It could be considered taking advantage when she's mentally or emotionally compromised. Kinda like when someone's drunk?"

"I'm sure Twin Gun has it under control." Mercury growled. It was hard to hear anyone disparage Electron, even if she had thought of the same concerns herself. Daedalus picked up on her souring mood and quickly turned the conversation elsewhere.

"So you were feeling kinda frustrated. Physically, that is?"

"I guess." For some reason, it was a little weird talking to Daed about the subject. Still, she felt more comfortable than she would have even with the other women of the team. Of course, when half of them were having sex with the man she desperately wanted that might not mean as much as it would otherwise.

"Then, the answer is easy! Go out and find someone." Daed responded. He quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture to hold off the complaint he knew was forthcoming. "I know, it's not really that easy. You're not the type of person who can go out and hook up with a stranger.

"Still, there's got to be some friends who you would feel comfortable with? They won't even have to be a formal relationship. Friends with benefits, as they say. You've got to have someone who you feel comfortable enough that you could trust just to relieve your physical needs."

He said it so mater-of-fact-ly that she almost missed the gleam in his eye. She made certain not to stare but instead looked off into the distance like she considered his question. In reality, she suddenly had a very different realization.

The glint had been the slightest hint of hopeful desperation. That much she was sure of. What she contemplated was how long it had been since Daedalus had made love to anyone. They'd been a team for years now, and while all of the others had minor flings with people away from the team, he'd always refrained.

Had it really been years for him? If so, no wonder there'd be desperation! He was probably a bit like her, in the respect that he couldn't just hook up with a random someone at a club. After all, he always seemed to understand her.

"There...might be someone." Mercury offered a bit more coyly than she ever had around Daed. He was right. There were a few guys that she could turn to. Unfortunately, it seemed that Daedalus didn't have the same luxury. She certainly trusted him not to hurt her. Beyond that, it had been his idea that she find someone, no strings attached. Now that she noticed, it was his way of offering himself. Besides, if they did it here, in the kitchen, and now, with Electron in the next room, maybe it would be enough to turn him jealous and drive him to her.

"Just...friends with benefits?" Mercury asked as she pushed off of the counter. "It's the kind of thing that two people can share, if they don't get too emotionally dependent. And, maybe, who better than a teammate? After all, I have to admit, it would be nice to be able to come back from a mission and break the tension. Reaffirm life and all that."

There it was again. This time, Daed wasn't able to simply push the hopeful desperation out of his eyes. His mouth opened a couple of times, while she stalked towards him, but he couldn't manage to speak. Instead, he nodded his response.

Mercury smiled and allowed a little more sway to her hips. She was rewarded by the way his eyes began to flitter down, very much against his will. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his focus on her face. Other times, that might have offended her. Now, however, it was a compliment to her efforts to retain her youthful figure and complexion, despite the forces of nature.

Maybe there was something to the suggestion. Sure, she'd initially targeted him out of pity but it seemed that she could gain a little more than just physical satisfaction. In her fantasies with Electron, she still felt a bit the cougar, given the roughly two decades difference in age. Daedalus was less than ten years younger than she. And if he thought she was worth ogling, while surrounded by four other women, all of whom were younger than he was, it would certainly perk her ego a bit.

"Yeah." Daed stammered. "It's not really sex in violence, but it does kinda turn me on when..."

Mercury put a finger to his lips to keep him from prattling too much. No. He was perfect. Here was someone she trusted enough to be intimate with but would never see herself falling for. The next time he opened his mouth, it would remind her of the impossibility of a relationship beyond sex.

"How about other things?" Mercury asked in a whisper, leaning it to breath the question directly into his ear. "Is it just the fighting that turns you on, or is it something else?"

She could practically hear his throat working as he gulped a couple of times, trying to swallow past the nervous lump that had formed. After a couple of tries, he managed to build up enough saliva to open his mouth and answer. "There's other things, mostly." He admitted.

"Might those other things be this?"

Mercury stepped back until the counter once more brushed against her back. She kept her arms loosely outstretched at her sides, to indicate her body, as she moved. Daed finally lost the battle entirely and his eyes drifted downward and failed to return to hers. His breath was so short she feared he'd hyperventilate.

Yes. Definitely good for the ego.

"Or, wait." She added, not bothering to try to drag his attention away from her body. "This isn't quite right. This might be enough to titillate," he nodded almost comically fast, "but it's not the full effect, now is it?"

Mercury brought her arms in and slowly reached up to the top button of her blouse. Carefully and sedately, she popped each button free and worked her way down the shirt. She made sure not to allow it to fall open as it loosened. That would be for the final reveal.

Even without the revelation of any additional flesh, Mercury could easily determine the effect she had on him. The bulge of his slacks began to pulse. Each time, it failed to fade a little farther forward. By the time she was ready to drop her shirt, she judged, he was nearly hard.

Her shirt fell away to reveal the pink lace bra she wore beneath. She knew that the delicate fabric would offer tantalizing glimpses of her nipples and areola if one looked hard enough to notice. From the way he stared at her, there was no way he'd failed to spot them.

"I don't generally wear a skirt either, do I?" Mercury teased.

Her fingers slipped to the waist of the long, somewhat form-fitting, skirt. One of her friends in college had joked that she dressed like a librarian, and not the naughty kind. If he could only see her now, he would probably be kicking himself for his stupidity. All that a real woman had to do in order to add naughtiness to an outfit was to add attitude.

The skirt dropped dramatically to pool around her feet. Daedalus dropped his eyes to follow the obvious motion and only managed to raise them to the newly revealed treasure. His breath had frozen in his lungs and his pants must have been painfully tight.

Mercury put her hands behind her, on the edge of the counter, and leaned back slightly. The motion drew her breasts away from him, the arch of her back thrust her hips forward nearly the same amount. Daed staggered forward a step, apparently without even a conscious decision. She felt her body respond with the first hint of warmth that she could still cause such instinctive lust with nothing more than her physique. After a moment, she relaxed her body and rested against the counter.

"You're overdressed." Mercury pointed out. Daedalus jerked in surprise. After a moment to process her statement, he quickly began to tear off his clothes. It was all she could do not to snicker at his enthusiasm. It would probably hurt his ego and the whole point of this was to give him an outlet as much as see if she could get Electron jealous.

When he was done, Daedalus stood before her clad only in his boxers. She appraised him openly. The tent of fabric suggested a respectable length, if not any larger than average. The way it sprang up, nearly parallel to his fit stomach, would certainly be beneficial to standing or missionary. Though it wouldn't do much if he tried to sit her on the edge of the counter or, heaven forbid, bend her over it. The latter she wouldn't let him do, no matter how bad she felt for him. She'd only let the real catch show her any dominance.

"Have you ever wondered what my metal body feels like?" Mercury purred and transformed.

His eyes widened. Somehow, the sight of her in her underwear wasn't nearly as fascinating as her metal body in the same. Personally, she always thought she looked like a silver mannequin like this, but clearly he thought differently. Maybe it was because the contrast of colors emphasized the lingerie where they blended against her pink skin normally.

Whatever the reason, Daed nodded so fast and hard she was almost afraid he'd get whiplash! Rather than openly state her invitation, Mercury once more arched her back. As if magnetized at the hips, he staggered forward. Before their bodies could collide, he managed to bring his hands up to rest around her firm waist.

Daedalus gasped, a good sign that he managed to breath occasionally. Mercury smiled. He was surprised by how soft and warm her body was. If anything, her temperature actually rose a couple of degrees in this form. She leaned into his light caress, encouraging his hands to wander.

Through slitted eyes, Mercury could see warring desires in his expression. Part of him wanted to savor the feel of her body. He seemed to want to memorize every curve. While she appreciated the sentiment, there'd be time for that if and when she decided to take him up on this again. For now, she wanted to get going before Electron slipped out of the next room and ruined the whole point of the show.

"My underwear's in the way. I think you should cut it off." Mercury suggested.

She had thought it might give him a hint of some aggressiveness in a perfectly harmless way. Daedalus, however, just looked at her blankly. After a moment of consideration he finally realized she was being serious and began to look around hurriedly. Mercury rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to find a knife. Make one."

Understanding dawned. Daedalus could conjure any object he desired from thin air, provided he knew the exact workings of it. Simple objects, like knifes, clubs and stop signs, were easy. He could call forth complex mechanical or chemical machines but only if he understood their form and function to the slightest detail.

Daed surprised her when he caught up to her intent. Rather than a simple knife, he fashioned a full-blown katana from nowhere. She felt a slight thrill of danger. Her metal body should be strong enough to resist even such vorpal a blade but there was always the possibility she was wrong. It was that unknown that caused her breath to catch and her muscles, all of them, to clench when the blade came to rest against her metal body.

Apparently he wasn't sure whether or not he'd crafted such a weapon either. The fist cut began slightly under her arm and was angled so severely that it barely managed to cut the strap of her bra. It didn't even leave a scratch, which gave him more confidence. The figure eight that deftly stripped her of the cups of her bra actually tickled and elicited a slight shudder of sensation. A flick of his wrist spun the sword into a back-handed grip, pointed at the floor.

Mercury had never really considered, before, that weapons could be used as aids in foreplay. When she felt the blade nestle between her legs, she had an instinctive blaze of fear and felt her body seize. Intellectually, she knew the weapon couldn't hurt her but her body couldn't help but respond.

Daedalus jerked his hand upward and her body responded in a completely different manner. Mercury moaned as the solid length of the blade rubbed firmly against her tender, if invulnerable, bud. She may have overstated her response, in the hopes that someone particular might hear, but it was genuine, if less than she let her lover believe.

The blade vanished. Daed dropped a hand between her legs and brushed aside the now-torn lace. Even with the proof of her body, he seemed amazed when his fingers dipped into the hot, damp, folds of her lust. To encourage him, she rolled her hips and drove the questing finger slightly inside of her. She emphasized another moan when he took the hint and drove it deeper.

Daedalus had just begun to slide his finger in and out when she thought she heard motion from the other room. Electron wouldn't have to pass through the kitchen in order to reach the other rooms but it would take much more effort to navigate around it. If he was about to leave, she wanted him to witness more than just third base.

Mercury reached out to grip Daed's shoulders. The sudden and unexpected shift caused her to drop backwards harshly against the counter. With his shoulders firmly caught, he lurched forward with her. Her eyes drooped closed and her gasp was in no way faked when his hand faltered and shoved three fingers forcefully inside her.

"I need it." Mercury gasped. The desperation came naturally given the increased sounds of commotion from the other room. She refused to speak loudly enough that Electron might hear, however. "Please. Now!"

Daed's eyes widened in wonder but he nodded firmly. His hand fumbled out from between her legs and yanked at his boxers. She glanced down and confirmed her suspicions, firm, average and heavily angled. If she was lucky, that angle might work in her favor and hit her g-spot but otherwise he'd have to be incredibly skilled to do more than frustrate her further.

Mercury closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean back and rest her weight more firmly against the counter and Daed's hand. Despite the lack of girth, she was vaguely surprised by how good it felt when his tip caressed her. When he slowly worked his way deeper there was enough to feel, even if not to stretch her open. She moaned to show her appreciation for what he had.

The simple sound caused him to swell slightly. Mercury felt a little hope blossom that it might get better. Unfortunately, it shrunk back just as quickly. Undeterred, she continued to encourage him with loud moans and groans. She made a point to emphasize when he did something that especially titillated her. Unfortunately, he never seemed to pick up on her cues and she feared outright demands might begin to sound too contrived.

Daedalus pressed his body against hers as he began to pump harder. Mercury felt a fresh excitement that his solid chest began to rub against her nipples. Heat began to build between her hips and her core provided fresh lubrication for his efforts.

Mercury slowly began to feel a second accident. The odd angle at which he pounded himself into her had begun to rub his groin against her pearl. While his thrusts offered little to excite her, she felt herself climb steadily towards her pleasure. It became easier and easier to feign her responses until only the volume needed to be amplified.

She could feel his rhythm begin to falter and knew at once it would be a race against time. Although difficult to concentrate, she tried to shift her hips back and forth. She just needed a little longer.

"We need to stop!" Daedalus gasped out and suited his actions to his words. He left himself buried to the hilt, as if anything else would inspire him to continue, or maybe bring about his climax. "Any more and I'm going to finish!"




The Villain Ch. 03c



Mercury had gone too far to stop now. If he insisted, she'd be in the room set aside for her here at headquarters in moments to finish herself off. Desperate, she tried to lift herself off of him to impale herself once more but he held her hips too firmly.

"You don't have to stop!" She pleaded. "When I'm metal, I'm immune to any known disease and I can't get pregnant! Please!"

There it was again. That strange mixture of desperation and hope. As before, whatever it meant didn't stop him. He took up again with even more vigor. It was enough, barely. The slight decline of his readiness gave her the extra moments she needed.

The added haste, to bring him back to where he'd been, added a little to the sensation of being filled when his hips crashed into her thighs and spread them farther apart. His firm chest rubbed pleasantly against her breasts and caused sparks to dance. Her bud, swollen by need, dragged against the soft hair of his groin.

A shudder of bliss radiated outward from her core. Her muscles seized spastically and her nerves began to quiver in relief. Moments later, his hips crashed into her with a finality that announced his own finish. He collapsed against her and she gladly helped hold them both upright, using the counter for support.

It hadn't been the best she'd ever had. Far from it. But at least she could admit that he'd gotten her off. A little orgasm was still an orgasm. She probably wouldn't come back to him in order to relieve her own tension, but she might be persuaded to make herself available for him, occasionally.

"God, I love you." Daedalus murmured, almost too soft to catch.

Mercury froze in horror. He hadn't meant her to hear that, of that much she was certain. Given his lack of reaction, she didn't think he even realized he'd said it aloud. There could be no doubt about the veracity of the statement, however.

Oh, fuck! Sure, she'd needed to let off a little steam and this seemed a perfect way to do so and maybe get Electron a little jealous at the same time. It was just a bonus that Daedalus got some relief of his own, wasn't it? Of course, that kind of consideration didn't apply if he'd been in love with her all this time!

It made perfect sense. That was why the desperation and hope. This was more than a mild fantasy come to life for him. This must have seemed the culmination of a growing relationship. She had no idea how she was going to handle this development.

"Friends-with-benefits" was completely out of the question. Whatever he said on the matter, it was more than that to him. Of course he would claim otherwise. That way he'd get to fulfill his unhealthy delusion while still maintaining a relationship.

Mercury lay her head to rest on top of his. Her weariness had nothing to do with the physical exertion and release, as his did. No, now she needed to figure out how to untangle the mess she'd just made.

Copyright December 2012, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 03d



Part 4: Love and War

Twin Gun had been eyeing Memnos and Electron for weeks now.  At first, Scourge had thought her upset at the flagrant attack on the social order of the team.  He expected her to tally up the proof until she had an air-tight case against them.

The thought made Scourge almost giddy with anticipation.  It wasn't that he had anything in particular against Memnos.  It was unfortunate that the blond would end up going down in flames but that was the price the universe demanded to pay for the final destruction of the bastard Electron.

Until only a couple of months ago, the two men had been close friends.  That had been before the younger of the two had suddenly decided to go on a carousing spree.  If he'd just stuck to sticking it to Memnos, there wouldn't have been any problems.  The hatred, however, stemmed from the fact that the unmitigated bastard had realized Lioness' secret and taken advantage of it.

Scourge had known for a while now the real reason behind the feline heroine's periodic retreats.  And while he would have liked nothing more than to join with her in the most intimate of dances, he wasn't willing to do so when she had no control over her own body or desires.  He had hoped, in time, she would come to willingly accept him.

Now the bastard had ruined everything.  Lioness appeared to have imprinted on Electron.  She no longer spent any time with the other two males of the team, even when she wasn't in heat.  If her chosen mate wasn't around, she icily went about her day.

For his part, Electron hadn't even noticed the change in her!  Of course, why would he?  When he was around she was positively lively.  Besides, when she wasn't in heat, Electron spent his nights doing whatever with Memnos down in the prison.  And when Lioness' heat had rolled around once more, Electron had blithely ceased his play with one woman and gone after the one helpless to deny him.

Unfortunately, it eventually became clear that Twin Gun had no such plans to report their activities to the higher authorities.  Scourge had discovered that it technically wasn't against regulations, even if it was against the spirit of the rules.  He'd read those rules through, a fair number of times, in order to make certain of every loophole.

Of course, even if it had been against the rules, it was unlikely Twin Gun would have busted them on it.  Unlike the vast majority of administrative overseers, known as handlers, she was not prejudiced against paranormals.  Nor was she truly jealous of their abilities.

All she really wanted was to be out there fighting the good fight.  If that meant she had to write reports every week on the status of her team, that was the price she paid to strap on the high-tech pistols and join the team fighting and capturing rogue paras.  It wasn't conducive to teamwork to have the people she counted on afraid of her, afraid she would report every minor infraction, real or imagined.

What made Twin Gun watch the two so carefully was nothing more or less than desire.  Where other handlers would revel in the control their authority gave over others, particularly attractive women that they convinced themselves were sub-human, she refused to sully her position.  The laws that prevented relations between an employer and employee might not affect handlers but the morality behind it remained steadfast and Twin Gun wasn't one to forget the difference.

Scourge understood how she could watch, even knowing she held no particular interest in either of the participants.  Before he had realized what Electron had done to Lioness, he had watched with equal longing.  It's human nature for the lonely to desire those who were not.

Now, it was time for Scourge to reconsider his own wants.  Lioness was spoiled for him.  In part, he self-consciously realized, he'd wanted her just because it would mean claiming untouched territory.  Even without that desire, however, she had changed.  She didn't want him, and wouldn't, while Electron was still in the picture.

If not a virgin, why not try for man's other great fantasy?

Now that teammates were clearly fair game, given that Scourge had also heard about Daedalus and Mercury, that left a very dynamic relationship available to exploit.  Photon and Twin Gun had a love-hate thing going that would work perfectly for his purposes.

It wasn't so much that Twin Gun was jealous of Photon's power.  The laser blasts the para could shoot weren't any different from those that the twin pistols produced.  If anything, Twin Gun's capabilities were vastly more diverse, since she could swap out for a variety of ammunition for a multitude of situations.

It was the ease with which Photon accomplished her own feats that caused the Norm handler to compete with the Para under her charge.  Photon was a natural shot.  A talent that was made much simpler when one considered that there was a direct correspondence between what she saw and what she attacked.  The pistoleer, on the other hand, had to spend hours on the range working to maintain her own accuracy.

If that wasn't enough to work with, Scourge knew that Photon had a secret crush on the team's handler.  He had yet to determine whether it was power-as-an-aphrodisiac or simply attraction to an attractive young woman.  He couldn't imagine she liked the other woman for her personality, considering the subtle hostility she elicited.  In the end, the nature really didn't matter, it gave him the opening he needed.

Scourge waited until the time was right to broach the subject.  Lioness and Daedalus were off on patrol, Electron and Memnos were shacked up somewhere (probably the jail cell with the cuffs and chains) and Mercury hadn't been seen around much since the kitchen session that the entire team had heard through the walls.  That left the three remaining members watching TV on the couch in the lounge.

Twin Gun got up and ran to the kitchen for a drink and a snack.  Photon's eyes tracked the other woman's every motion until she was out of sight.  That tragic occurrence brought forth a heartfelt sigh which Scourge took as his cue.

"You know," he muttered conspiratorially to the red-head, without turning away from the TV, "I'm pretty sure I know a way you could end up making out with her.  Maybe even more."

The nice thing about the red-head was the way she blushed.  From the tip of her head to the painted toes in her sandals, her body turned nearly as red as her hair.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

This time, Scourge did turn to look at Photon.  "Oh, come on.  It's obvious you have a thing for her.  Nothing wrong with that.  She's an attractive young woman and an asset to the team.  Besides, it doesn't matter to anyone that you're a lesbian."

"I'm not!"  Photon turned to stare at him in horror.  He leveled her a skeptical look that she could not bear the weight of.  She blushed once more and turned back away.  "Well, not exactly."

"Not exactly?  What does that mean?"  Scourge responded, though he knew very well what it meant.  Or, at least, he hoped he knew.  "Either you want to make love with her or you don't."

"I...I do.  It's just...I don't really...I've never..."

"You're bi' but you've never done anything with a woman before."  He finished for her, elated by the revelation.

"Yeah.  I mean, no!  I mean..."  Photon took a deep breath and Scourge took advantage of the moment to watch her impressive rack heave out and back in again.  "I've kissed women before, and a little heavy petting, but nothing really intimate."

"I understand, and I certainly am no one to judge.  I couldn't think of anyone more suitable for your first experience than Twin Gun."

"Really?"  The redhead asked as she pulled her feet up underneath her and turned to focus more of her attention on him.

Scourge opened his mouth to reply but quickly shut it again when he heard footsteps returning from the kitchen.  Twin Gun circled the couch and sat down carefully opposite Photon on the other side of Scourge.  She gave the other two a suspicious glance, aimed more at the rival female than him, and all three returned their focus to the TV.  At the next break, Twin Gun once more got up and headed towards the kitchen, likely to clean the dishes used for her snack.

"Are you sure?"

Scourge glanced at Photon, who had leaned forward and chosen to whisper this time.  Scourge couldn't help but notice that the neckline of her shirt hung loosely and provided quite a view of soft mounds of cleavage.  Unfortunately, with the intensity she watched him, he could only appreciate the sight in his peripheral vision.  Otherwise he'd look like just the letch he felt.

"Am I sure about what?"  Scourge knew, in general, that she had continued the conversation from before but couldn't hope to remember what statement he'd last made.  That assumed she was even thinking about his last statement and not something else he'd said.

"Are you sure about Twin Gun?  I mean, I always thought she didn't like me."

Scourge smiled, understanding the difficulty.  "It's not that she doesn't like you, Photon, it's that she's a bit jealous.  She has set you as a model of what she should accomplish so she competes with you almost constantly.

"The truth is, however, that she not only respects you a great deal but probably also idolizes you.  The aggression is merely her way of setting you at a distance in case you turn out not to reciprocate some feelings towards her.  I think if you approached her directly, it would even get stronger, out of fear that you were making fun of her."

Photon nodded glumly and dropped her head forward in defeat.  While that gave Scourge permission to look at her chest more openly, the posture also concealed quite a bit of what he wanted to see.  What her head didn't hide, her curly hair did.

"Keep in mind," he continued, "I also mentioned that I thought I knew a way you could end up making out with her."

Photon's head snapped up, hope shining in her eyes.  Since she hadn't pulled herself up from her sulk, he now had a near perfect look strait down her shirt and marveled at the red lace bra.  Did she always wear things like that or had she deduced she might need it today?  It didn't matter.  He only hoped the bottoms matched the top.

"How?"  She whispered.

"I think, if we can not only get her competing with you, but also jealous, and no little bit horny, you'll be a shoe-in for an intense moment you could use to turn and kiss her.  From there, it should be a straight line."

Photon nodded slowly, uncertainty evident in her expression.  "I can see that.  I even think it'd probably work.  The thing is, how can we be certain she'd get to that place at all?"

"All you have to do," he cautioned, "is exactly what I tell you.  I can manufacture the scenario for you, but you have to trust me.  Got it?"

Photon nodded then glanced over his shoulder.  That would be Twin Gun returning from the kitchen.  He had to start things quickly if he wanted to get some before any of the others returned.  He kept his voice low but clearly addressed to the red-head.  "The first thing you need to do is snuggle with my side."

He lifted his arms to rest them across the back of the couch.  Photon looked skeptical but shifted herself forward and curled up under his arm.  He glanced down and smiled at the view.  She no longer offered the all-access, no-holds-barred, chest shot he'd had moments before but something about the sight of her curled up, small and defenseless, at his side stirred him stronger than if she'd stood before him, naked in a glass box.

"In a couple of minutes," Scourge mumbled under his breath just before Twin Gun reached ear-shot, "You need to start running a hand over my chest possessively.  Maybe even play some with my nipple."

He saw her glance up with concern but also felt her subtle nod of --understanding?  acceptance?-- after a moment of thought.  When Twin Gun circled the couch, she paused and took in the scene arranged before her.  As with the red-head, Scourge didn't dare look directly at the brunette.  The scowl was all too clear, no matter how poor his angle.

Twin Gun flopped down heavily onto the couch.  She did not, he noted, attempt to move the arm he now had draped partially behind her.  Good sign!  He thought.  He also thought she sat a little closer to him than she had during the last stretch of the show, though that could easily be nothing more than a difference of her return and settling comfortably in.

Scourge was heartily glad that someone had picked up on the loophole that allowed for intra-team relationships.  Photon was warm and soft, pressed against his side.  Even though she had yet to actively caress him, her hands had already begun to rub small circles.  She wasn't Lioness but she was far from a consolation prize!  And if things worked out like he hoped they would, he might have gotten the better end of the deal in the long run.  Electron might have two women, but Scourge doubted very highly that he ever had them at the same time!

Twin Gun had begun to fidget in place.  To the casual observer, or even on close inspection, it probably would have looked like a difficulty getting comfortable.  In truth, it probably was, but not for the reasons most people would think.  He knew her discomfort revolved around her subconscious need to compete with the other young woman.  Each slight shift of her weight brought her a fraction of an inch closer to him.

The three continued to watch the television and pretend they weren't aware of what was going on.  Of the three, Scourge was pretty certain he was the only one able to process anything from the movie.  It was one he'd seen before and while he could have picked a more optimal movie for his plans, he felt confident he could factor the timing into the love scene in the movie.

On cue, after a couple of minutes had passed, Photon began to openly caress Scourge.  Twin Gun had already moved about halfway from the edge of the couch into his embrace.  She was close enough he clearly saw her eyes jerk over to take in the change in the situation.  Photon played it cool and managed to keep her eyes on the TV, though he could see her desire to look over and watch the reaction.

There was no way that Scourge could have hidden his own reaction.  Even if his knees hadn't already been spread for comfort, he would have had to open his legs then.  He managed to avoid any audible indication of his enjoyment but the bulge in his pants was as good as a scream for the women on the couch.

Photon's action had caused her rival to stop inching closer.  That didn't mean she had no desire, conscious or subconscious, not to respond.  Her hands began to twitch.  She quickly sat on the one nearest to him but the other instinctively began to open and close, kneading her stomach.  All she needed was a little push, and he thought he knew the way to start.

Scourge reached his arm around Photon.  He felt her freeze with such an intimate embrace, uncertain of his intentions but unwilling to let her rival witness it.  Rather than bring her closer, he reached around and used his hand to tug the hem of his t-shirt out from the waist of his pants.

Photon took the change in stride and slid her hand beneath his shirt.  She even snuggled closer, with a soft sigh of contentment, without any prompting.  He wondered, briefly, if he might not have needed a scheme to get her into bed but discounted the possibility.  After all, she'd already shown reluctance over the plan and he hadn't even gotten to the good stuff.

Twin Gun's shift was so subtle that even Scourge, who watched for it, would never have guessed it was anything but natural.  He almost missed the way she slid into the crook of his arm altogether!  One moment she was by his elbow and the next she was cuddled against him.

Conscious of the way they might react, Scourge resisted the urge to put an arm around each of them and kept his arms along the back of the couch.  Photon glanced up.  It seemed to be a step in the right direction.  At least they had put the norm in a bit more of an affectionate mood.  Still, it seemed like he was going to be the recipient of the benefits rather than her.

It was true, of course, but that didn't mean he didn't expect things to work out for the women as well.

Scourge shivered slightly when Twin Gun's hand rose to join her rival's in a caress.  Photon's expression became almost accusing.  Unable to calm her with words, he tried to put the most trustworthy pleading he could manage onto his own face.  After another moment, to ensure he understood her reservations, her face softened into mere skepticism.

Her expression hardened once more when he darted his eyes downward.  The glare Photon shot him promised extreme vengeance if his plan didn't pan out like he promised.  If it didn't work, he expected worse than her displeasure.  After all, the other woman was technically their handler, even if she rarely acted like it.

Scourge wasn't sure if Photon chose subtlety because of her reluctance or because she thought it would play better to Twin Gun.  Rather than reach directly for the rock-hard bulge in his pants, she shifted her caress down his body and across his thigh.  Her hand began to trace the inside of his leg, careful not to actually touch his crotch.

He couldn't help the moan her ministrations provoked.  It held no little frustration.  Just to be sandwiched between the two attractive women was enough to spur his lust.  Every little bit he managed to coerce out of them brought his need higher.

Once Twin Gun's hand mirrored Photon's on his leg, his plan began to speed up.  Momentum gained by simple virtue of the instinctive competitiveness of the species.  It didn't matter much that the para had a crush on the norm, they both exhibited all the signs of rivals and their subconsciouses reacted appropriately.  Scourge no longer had to guide either of them to the next step.  They leapt headlong for it in an attempt to outdo the other.

Scourge closed his eyes and leaned his head back.  Their hands hand given up the pretense and now massaged either side of the bulge.  Both were too conscious, for the moment, that their hands would collide if they both reached for him at the same moment.

A compromise was reached that he approved of fully.  Photon reached for his belt only a moment before Twin Gun could.  Undeterred, the handler instead sought out the button and zipper of his pants.  In moments his teal briefs were exposed, barely able to contain the solid mass beneath.  All he needed was to lift his hips off the couch an inch and the two women worked his pants down to the floor.

Now it had become a bit more difficult for the two to mirror each other.  It was downright impossible for them to compete without touching each other.  There was a pause of uncertainty while both women processed this fact.  Scourge opened his eyes and watched.  He made certain to stay silent and unobtrusive.  He needed them to continue to think of him as merely the battleground.  Any suggestions at this point and they would remember he was the instigator.  That would be when everything fell apart.

Photon took the initiative, apparently now fully immersed in the plan to the degree that she began to forget none of this was her idea to begin with.  In one fluid motion, she slid off the couch and curled her body around his leg.  He couldn't help but gasp when he found her cheek suddenly pressed against the inside of his thigh, her hand cupped under his balls and her eyes longingly attached to the bulge barely contained by his underwear.

Twin Gun, a beat behind, realized she could not gain back the initiative yet.  Instead, she lifted his shirt and leaned forward.  Although at a weaker position for the long-term competition, she won the round through action rather than suggestion.  Her rival hinted what she intended.  She went for it.




The Villain Ch. 03d



Scourge gasped.  The bulge pulsed with fresh life.  Twin Gun took his nipple between her teeth and began to flick her tongue across it.  All the while, the corners of her mouth twisted upward in a mocking smile.  Her eyes laughed and dared her rival to beat the move.

They all knew exactly how she could beat it but Photon, either through reluctance or a desire to draw things out, chose another route.  She bared her own teeth and leaned forward to nip, playfully at his balls.

Scourge gasped and had a moment to wonder if their competition might finish him off before either got past foreplay.  In the end, he decided, it didn't really matter.  Besides, he suspected that such an event would barely go noticed at this point.  If it happened, it would likely turn into a contest to see who could bring him again the fastest.  Or, perhaps, how many times each could finish him off.

Between the insistent tug on his nipple, the ticklish nips lower and the very pleasant contemplation, the tight fabric of his briefs could no longer fully constrain him.  Both women understood the potency of his need that caused his underwear to tent.  Had he worn merely boxers, they wouldn't have cared, but the briefs brought a moan from Twin Gun and a chuckle from Photon, both in appreciation of the sight.

For a moment, both women paused, the competition forgotten.  Scourge felt very nearly bereft of attention until they simultaneously reached out.  Both women had to retreat in order to remove the offending underwear.  Once more, he lifted his hips to accommodate the removal of clothing.  This time, however, the process was halted the moment his shaft sprung free of the waistband.

Scourge had never let on that he was well endowed.  It wasn't exactly a topic of conversation that came up around a team that was generally more professional than personal.  Besides, there were plenty more than enough rooms, not to mention bathrooms, that no one needed to share on the rare occasions that they were on-call.

Twin Gun stared at the solid length with a grin of triumph.  Photon's forced swallow spoke of a mixture of uncertainty and awe, on the other hand.  Despite the lack of contact, he could almost feel their gazes as they traveled from the base to the tip and back down again.  A shift of his knees allowed the, now-forgotten, underwear to drop around his ankles.  The slight rise of his legs, as he slipped one foot out, likewise went unnoticed.

With difficulty, they both forced enough attention away from the impressive sight to move back into position.  Scourge shuddered when Photon's teeth brushed against him.  Aware of his sensitivity, she smiled and opened her mouth.  Without the fabric to interfere, she found her tongue worked just as well, if not better.

Twin Gun couldn't bring herself to return her focus to his nipple.  She slid back onto the couch and curled beneath the warmth of his arm but her gaze remained fixed south.  The lack didn't bother him.  Scourge could no longer fully keep track.  His eyes drifted half-closed beneath the weight of sensation that had begun to build within him.

Half-seen by him, the eyes of the women met.  Hindered by the failing of his gender, he couldn't interpret the silent communication that transpired between the two.  Whatever they spoke, he was pleasantly scared of the feral grins that broke across their faces.  A moment later he managed his first full breath in minutes when they backed off.

Somehow, his body found room to force more blood into his manhood when they simultaneously reached down and stripped off their shirts and popped their bras.  Two pairs of wondrous breasts hovered around him.  They brushed lightly against his skin.  They taunted him to reach out and play.

Scourge fought to control himself.  Every fiber of his being insisted that he grope, fondle and massage the perfect globes before him.  At the same time, the scheming corner of his brain insisted he hold back.  There would be time enough later.  Now, he still needed them to compete if all three were to come to the best arrangement.

The additional blood impressed both women sufficiently.  Photon returned to the tongue bath.  Twin Gun surprised him when she lunged forward and took the tip of his spear into her mouth.

Scourge's eyes closed fully.  His head snapped back and a moan of pure delight erupted from deep within him.  He had hoped he might get a little lip service, but hadn't counted on it.  At most, he had expected the three to end up on the floor in a tangle of groping limbs.  In his wildest fantasies he hadn't thought he might have half of his shaft encased in the brunette's hot, wet, mouth while the red-head sucked at the base.

The pressure inside his loins mounted exponentially every second with the combined assault.  Although he wanted nothing more than to spill himself inside either of their mouths, he knew it would ruin the mood and destroy everything he'd slowly wrought already.  He opened his mouth to warn them of the impending explosion when something unexpected happened.

Photon, once more, took the initiative.  The next kiss, rather than at the base of his length, was placed solidly on the underside of his shaft.  Twin Gun's head had begun to bob up and down when suddenly their lips met, albeit unconventionally.

The unexpected recipient jerked back.  When Scourge popped free of her lips, only deep breaths and an act of will prevented his explosion then and there.  He desperately felt the loss of both women's attentions but knew the entire affair hinged on this pivotal reaction.

Twin Gun's eyes met Photon's in another of those incomprehensible conversations.  Even before the communication ended, the norm's hand came up absently and began to stroke Scourge in a pathetic parody of her mouth's earlier ministrations.  Still, he was glad for even that little bit at the moment.  He'd been so close, he was afraid he'd collapse back to nothingness, with blue-balls his only reward.  This, at least, kept him in a holding pattern.

The corner of Twin Gun's mouth twitched up.  Her tongue slid across pink lips and she leaned forward.  Eyes shining with hope, Photon leaned forward.  In one pristine moment the two met, hovering over his leg and fulfilled his promise to the young woman.

Unfortunately, his triumph also proved a supreme disappointment.  The moment their lips locked, their hands shifted from him to cup their new partner's face.  Of course, it wasn't a total loss.  He couldn't help but show his excitement at the sight of the two half-naked beauties making out.

Twin Gun and Photon continued to kiss.  Their jaws opened allowing tongues to dance, entwine and explore.  The hands that had begun at each other's faces now began to wander and experiment.  The sight of soft skin, as it caressed equally nubile flesh, was almost more than Scourge could bear.

It was all he could do to keep from gripping himself and firing off the load the two had built within him.  He knew that would be a supreme mistake, however.  The nature of their collective relationship was in the process of being defined with this encounter.  If he allowed himself to be pushed fully aside, he would never get the chance he strived for.  He might be able to parlay it into voyeurism but not active participation.

No.  Scourge needed to find a way to join back in.  One would think it a simple matter, given that their lips had only moments before been on his dick and now they caressed each other as they kissed, still between his legs.

Photon's hands dropped to her waist and began to fumble with her belt.  Merely the implication of further nudity caused his shaft to jump with excitement.  That she managed to slip the tight jeans off, without breaking the kiss, was impressive.  That she could do it while Twin Gun mercilessly fondled her breasts and plucked at her nipples made it downright miraculous.

The removal of her pants seemed to become some sort of signal to the pair.  No sooner than the offending clothes fell off, Twin Gun spun Photon sideways and lowered her roughly to the floor.  The brunette's wide-spread knees spread the younger woman's legs open even as she lay on top and held the para to the ground.

Scourge nearly choked at the sight before him.  He hadn't truly paid much attention to the outfits the women had worn.  Now, with their bodies pressed together and faced away from him, their shirtless states mattered very little.  Photon's black, lace, thong made an impressive sight, however.

The view was nearly outdone by the way Twin Gun's short skirt barely covered the soft globes of her ass.  The garment completely failed to cover more intimate areas.  For that, she wore a white thong so sheer that he could see the vague shapes of her lust.  He didn't need to guess to discover her clit was enflamed.  For that matter, the ample holes in the black lace proved much the same for her counterpart.

Twin Gun reached between tight-pressed bodies and slid her finger between the other woman's legs.  With a startled squeak, muted by the continued seal of their mouths, Photon quickly followed suit.  Despite the moans that began at immediately, it was clear the attempts were both destined for disappointment.

The problem, Scourge saw at once, was Twin Gun's posture.  With her knees planted in the carpet, her crotch was too high for her partner to get a comfortable position.  His eyes widened after a moment of epiphany, however.  The pose wasn't a mistake of bad planning, or even inexperience.  Her hips were intentionally placed, even slightly off center between her lover's legs, so they could thrust directly at him.

Twin Gun hadn't forgotten where the current scenario had begun.  Nor had she forgotten her own role in the unmanageable predicament Scourge found himself.  Her posture was a deliberate enticement, an offer to join and a suggestion of how.

Scourge didn't think twice.  When she lowered them to the ground, Twin Gun had moved the two far enough away from the couch that it was simple for him to slide off and drop to his own knees.  His overwhelmed lust pointed accusingly at the entangled women.  The pressure within his balls had grown so great he feared it would be a challenge once more to get it to release.

Scourge's hand came to rest on the nearly-transparent material.  It would only take a second to use his power and dissolve the offending fabric.  To his surprise, Twin Gun shifted away from him the moment he attempted to curl fingers around the edges of the offending thong.  After a second attempt, with a similar reaction, he understood it wasn't a mistake.  She didn't want her underwear removed or even set aside.  The fact that neither woman had violated the unspoken barrier seemed to confirm his suspicions.

How, then, could she be offering a chance to join if she didn't want him inside of her?

All at once it came to him.  Once it became clear Scourge had accepted her proposition, Twin Gun pressed herself flat against her lover.  They continued to moan as their fingers, pressed between the weight of their bodies, worked harder in time with the rocking of their bodies.

Scourge took a chance and wrapped his arms easily around the slender women.  He felt Photon tense in surprise and concern, but neither women allowed the unexpected to intrude on their foreplay.  With a flex of muscles, he lifted the entangled women and quickly lay them back down, now on the plush, long, ottoman that matched the couch.

Legs dangled blithely off the edge of the furniture.  Although tense while he moved them, the current state of comfort proved they didn't mind his addition.  A brief, inquisitive, mewl slipped from Photon when he snugged the tip of his lust into the crease caused by their bodies.  The encouraging groan from Twin Gun seemed to be answer enough, however.  Particularly when accompanied by the retreat of first one, then the other, hand.

Their bodies felt like soft fire as it surrounded Scourge.  He expected the cloth to scratch and abrade as he pushed himself further between them.  Instead, he pleasantly discovered the fabric smooth as silk and soft as cotton.   With strength intended to fight his way between their tight-pressed bodies, his hips crashed against their conjoined flesh.

The moan Scourge delivered was no less, but also no more, than those of the women.  Their own ministrations and attentions had very quickly put them in a mood.  His impressive physique rubbed, top and bottom, against the enflamed and sensitive mounds and drove them as surely as the tight fit consumed him.

After two more thrusts, to build his rhythm, he wondered if he would ever again be able to return to a single woman.  There was no room between their bodies and yet the slick fabric guided him perfectly and soft bodies yielded before him.  Tangled legs inspired him and encouraged greater efforts.

Scourge might have suspected they faked their enthusiasm for his benefit if not for the fact that pleasure finally forced the kiss to end.  Twin Gun arched her back with a scream while Photon's moans grew in intensity and speed.  The shift, combined with the force of his thrusts caused breasts to rub against one another and it was only a minor matter for the brunette to adjust her angle so that nipples flicked in time with their pleasure.

Despite his desperate need, the sudden cessation of their play had caused a blockage inside Scourge.  He felt so close to completion but felt his efforts still denied.  The women clutched at each other and their screams and moans quickly built in a feedback loop of desire and lust.  Suddenly, the damn seemed to burst and Twin Gun collapsed on top of Photon's equally quivering form.

The sudden, erratic, convulsions of the women were too much for Scourge to bear.  The knot deep within him, caused by the thorough teasing and sudden halt, finally untangled.  His hips threw themselves forward of their own accord even as his back bowed.  His eyes screwed shut and he tossed his head back with a growl.

His seed traced a burning trail up the length of his cock and exploded between their shaking bodies.  He continued to pound against them, which caused their flesh to shift and slide, and allowed his cum to spread.  The thought of his hot lust coating not only the delicate thongs but also all that creamy flesh was enough to spur him even more heartily.

It took minutes before Scourge's body relented.  It was all he could do to keep his full weight off of the women when he collapsed on top of them.  All three panted breathlessly while Twin Gun and Photon lay ass boneless as he wished he could afford to be.

"I've never before been interested in guys."  Photon surprised him by being the first to speak.  "And, truthfully, I still don't really find you arousing.  But I can't help but wonder what that would have felt like if I'd let you inside me."

Twin Gun snorted in amusement.  "Given what I saw, he'd be a great one to try it on.  I'd say he'd spoil you for other men, but if you're not interested anyway why bother to worry?  What he lacks in skill he more than makes up for in both size and aggression."

With a grunt to signify his protest, Scourge pushed himself upright.  A shudder ran through his body when he pulled himself free of their fleshy trap.  The slight leak at his tip proved they hadn't fully emptied his reservoirs and he gained his revenge for her comment on his skill by wiping it clean on Twin Gun's underwear.  The resultant aftershock it caused her was merely the icing on the cake.

"I don't suppose we could try it now?"  Photon muttered dreamily.  Her eyes were half-closed with contentment.

Twin Gun nuzzled the other woman's neck to the obvious delight of both.  "Sorry.  Don't have the time.  But we'll make certain to kidnap him later tonight.  It takes men far too long to recover between bouts.  In the mean time, we'll have to satisfy each other.  That should also help him to recover all the more quickly anyway."

Scourge roared a crow of victory within his mind.  He'd not only scored the ultimate fantasy, but he'd managed to leverage it into a repeat.  Maybe even a regular encounter.

With reluctance, Twin Gun pulled herself off of Photon.  Scourge had forgotten about her skirt, in the heat of passion.  In moments, the norm handler had righted the garment and hidden any sign of the encounter.  Except for her topless state, of course.

Photon was the more sedate.  She continued to lay sprawled on the ottoman.  She looked down the length of her naked glory and groaned.  Her underwear and most of her waist, nearly to her breasts, was covered in the pearlescent lust that quickly grew sticky.  The sight was almost enough to revive Scourge then and there.

"I am so going to need a shower now."

Twin Gun shook her head firmly after a brief glance at her watch.  "No time.  We've got a meeting shortly with the mayor.  Just throw back on your clothes."  Her smile turned into a frightening grin.  "Every time you think of the sticky feeling under your clothes, just let it inspire you for the fun we'll have later."

Photon's grin grew just as frightening.  "Maybe we can even start it in the shower when we get back!"

Scourge was no longer certain he would be able to survive the apparently voracious appetites of the two women!  He mostly just hoped the mayor didn't have anything important to say.  It was going to be impossible for him to concentrate, knowing that two of the beautiful women of his team were covered in his essence, just beneath their clothes.

Yeah, he was definitely going to be ready for round two in the shower, when they got back.

Copyright January 2013, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 03de



Part 5: Victory

"Watch it, pretty-boy! You almost hit me with that one!"

"If you'd pay more attention to the battle, and less to Photon's crotch, maybe you'd have seen it coming!"

"Leave him alone! You're just pissed because he managed to one-up your ridiculous need to sleep with your team-mates!"

"This from the ice-queen? Had to get it on in the kitchen because the stove's the only thing that could defrost your cunt enough to let something in?"

"At least she doesn't jump anything male that happens to walk past her!"

"Fuck off! She can't help what the experiments did to her!"

Primacy couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he listened to the group fight. Before the night was finished, another city was going to fall away from the Paranormal Registration Association and into the hands of the Paranormal Alliance. Sure, the PRA would send another team in no time, but the damage would already be done. Primacy would use the brief interval to bribe or blackmail the right people in the city government that no team would ever be able to truly root out his influence.

A glance to his left made the grin grow even further. Memnos watch anxiously while the drones tore into her former team. As expected, the para had grown attached to the people she'd been sent to spy upon. If not for her unauthorized actions, she'd have been transferred months ago. Instead, Primacy had felt it fitting to let her stew in her own creation.

Her instructions had been explicit. Even if it did appear that her impromptu plan had worked flawlessly, she hadn't thought about the big picture. That was Primacy's department. While he had considered just such a ploy, he knew it would only work twice at most. If she tried it again, it might work a second time, but the association would be clear and Memnos would be useless to the PA as a spy.

As a result of her continued membership, she had grown to like the people she worked with. Further, Primacy suspected, she'd become enthralled with Electron. It was difficult for some people, women in particular, to separate sex from emotional entanglements. The pained expression she now wore seemed to bear the truth of that.

There was, however, something Primacy could do about that much, at least. While she didn't know much about the PA, the little she knew could cause a hassle. It would be better to remind her of her loyalties, not to mention break her of her newfound association of sex and emotions, sooner rather than later.

"Memnos. Come here."

Primacy didn't have to raise his voice in order to issue a command. Nor did he need any kind of paranormal ability to enhance his charisma or inspire obedience. He had years of practice as an ultimate authority figure.

The blond bowed her head as she turned away from the fight. She shuffled the few steps that lay between servant and master and kept her head dutifully bent with her hands folded in front of her. "Yes, master."

He had always found it a bit ironic that someone with as strong telepathy as she possessed would be so submissive. Of course, it might be because of her powers that she felt the need to be dominated. Perhaps the constant barrage of unshielded thoughts on her brain had built within her a need to focus on the will of one strong enough to focus her very thoughts.

In the end, it didn't really matter to Primacy why she was the way she was. He only cared that she was, and how that meant he could use her.

"Does it distress you to see your former team-mates torn apart?"

"No, master. It was my plan all along."

Primacy leveled an angry glare at the younger woman. He knew that the mask that he wore to break up his features and protect his identity did nothing to soften the intensity of such a gaze. The way she instantly quailed heartened him almost as much as her immediate retraction.

"Yes, master. It bothers me." Memnos admitted. "When I formulated the plan, I thought only to sow dissention in the team. It never occurred to me that such problems would cause their deaths."

"Precisely." He countered icily. "You did not think. It is for this reason that the team, your compatriots, must die. You are to leave the planning to your superiors and merely follow orders like an obedient little para. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, master." Memnos replied with a quaver of fear and disappointment in her voice.

Primacy tempered his displeasure with a calculated bit of praise. "All is not lost, however. I will be able to not only salvage the situation but we shall gain from it."

"Yes, master. I'm very glad, master."

"Now," he continued, "you shall be allowed some small mixture of reward and punishment for what has transpired."

Memnos' eyes drifted up of their own accord, to watch her master through her lashes. He knew what she enjoyed and despised. He knew what made her most uncomfortable and what would humiliate her the most. If he planned to punish and reward her all at once, there was only one thing she could think of that might accomplish both.

"Kneel before me."

The blonde's eyes widened when she realized that she should have assumed such a posture from the beginning of their conversation. While she knew, now, that she should not suppose to perform an action without his command, this was something that should have been unspoken. She scurried into position and not only knelt, but bowed her body before him.

"Unzip my pants."

Primacy's attention no longer seemed to be on the woman immediately before him. His eyes tracked the sky and ground in front of him, over her lowly body, as he watched the battle unfold. He was acutely aware, however, of the sensation that buzzed through his loins when the zipper slowly opened.

A cool breeze drifted across his warm cock, unimpeded by anything underneath his pants. He could almost sense her urge to reach out and do something when confronted with his naked sexuality. It was part of her punishment that she wait for instructions. It was also part of her education to learn patience in the face of desire.

"Take it all in your mouth and seal your lips to my crotch."

Memnos only used her hands enough to ensure she'd gathered and guided the entirety of his flaccid lust to her mouth. In moments, the soft caress of the cool breeze was replaced by the wet heat of her mouth. Although he hadn't instructed her to do so, her tongue shifted back and forth. It felt incredible, but he didn't scold her for the addition more because he knew she couldn't help it than because she wanted to please him. After all, it was difficult for her to fit everything in without her own mouth getting in the way.

If the warm moist surrounding didn't excite him, which it did, the extra pressure when her jaw pressed against his groin gained an instant reaction. Her mouth quickly began to feel too tight to contain him as blood welled up and flooded his cock. The blond attached to him squeaked in discomfort but kept herself dutifully fastened tight.

Primacy fought to keep his eyes from drifting closed. He had to keep his attention on the battle in case they managed something that he would need to counter. Still, he couldn't help but enjoy the way he slowly filled every corner of her pretty little mouth and began to expand out the back and into her throat.

Memnos hated the sensation. She normally applauded every aspect of bringing pleasure to her master but this one brought her discomfort to the point of humiliation. She had to focus to hold back her own gag reflex once he got far enough. Further, he knew she feared that some day a man might grow past the point where she'd be able to open her mouth to pull herself free. He had almost enough girth to suggest the possibility.

The mental shields, that he had been trained to maintain under every circumstance, kept Memnos out of his thoughts. The more her discomfort grew, however, the more her emotions leaked past her own mental barriers. Humiliation slowly turned to panic which, combined with the tight grip of her throat on the expanding tip of his cock, fueled his desire all the more.

"Enough." Primacy managed to say calmly, almost deadpan. Her fear had become so intoxicating that he had to struggle to keep control long enough for her to pull herself off of him.

While he rather enjoyed relieving himself inside of a woman's mouth, and Memnos would never think to complain if he did, it would hurt the trust built between them. It was one thing to force her to drink his cum faster than she could swallow. It was another entirely to inject the same straight down her throat while she already panicked over the intrusion.

To cover the nearness of his orgasm, Primacy pulled out the tablet he used to control the robots and made a slight adjustment to the tactics. The flurry of motion spread out before him intensified. Half of the team of heroes was already down and the other half fought in isolated pockets rather than as a unit.

"Lean out on the rail and impale yourself on me."

Relief flooded Memnos' eyes when she realized he truly did not intend to continue the embarrassment. She gratefully bent over, one arm draped across the balcony rail for balance, and looked over her shoulder to adjust her position. With her free hand, she pushed her hero costume aside. Light fingertips guided the tip of his hard length to the wet folds of her pussy so he needn't remove his attention from the fight.

Primacy's hips slammed home with a sigh of relief, even before Memnos managed to turn back around and brace herself properly. He pounded into her, almost absently, twice more while she scrabbled to adjust her grip on the rail. As it was, her ample breasts smacked the edge of the balcony which dug painfully in with each strike. Her real costume would have protected her but would not have given him the access she knew he would demand.

He knew the moment she managed to divide enough attention away from the thick intrusion, that opened her wide, and onto the sight before her. That gasp came out in shock rather than pleasure. Once more, she discovered pleasure and pain, reward and punishment intermingled. The whimpers that escaped alternated between mounting ecstasy and increased horror as each additional companion died before her eyes.

Primacy savored the mingled blend of emotions that leaked through her shields like a fine vintage. He wanted desperately to explode but refused his own body. He needed to last until the last of the team had been removed. Then, and only then, would he succumb. But even then he would savor the moment appropriately.

By now, he held her costume aside in order to pound her against the edge of the balcony. There were only two members of the team left; Electron and the pitiable Lioness. That was the adjustment he'd made. He wanted the last to be the ones she cared for the most. Even now, it was clear that the battle was lost and the robots merely punished the two paras who were unable to effectively defend themselves.

"No!" Memnos whispered when Lioness was finally put out of her misery. Acute attention had allowed Primacy to predict it and pull out of her entirely. It offered a perfect distraction for him to adjust his own position slightly without her notice. A fraction of a second after her dispirited cry, he thrust himself forward with all of his might.

Memnos snapped her head back with a scream mixed more of pain than joy. Primacy pierced her tight ass, clearly rarely used, and nearly ripped her open as he forced himself deeper. He had to grit his teeth against the pain. She was far too tight for his size but the jumbled conflict of emotions and sensations that radiated from her was very nearly all the tonic he needed against the pain.

The scream was loud enough to draw the notice of the only remaining hero. Hatred blazed in Electron's eyes when he narrowed in on the source of the sound and discovered his lover so ill-used. The moment of inattention was all that was necessary for the robot to decapitate him, beneath the gaze distorted by the flood of tears that poured from Memnos.

Primacy forced himself deep inside of her twice more before he pulled out and stepped back. The blond woman collapsed instantly without the solid strength of her master to hold her up. He could feel the sense of betrayal that wafted off of her but knew, also, that it was directed inward. She didn't blame him, she blamed herself. As she should.

"Clean me up."

Even kneeling, Memnos walked bow-legged the few feet to reach him. Despite the obvious pain, she sat back on her heels and leaned forward to take him in her mouth once more. This time, she needn't bury her face against his groin. Not having expected anal, she hadn't given herself an enema so she was forced to deal with a slightly foul taste but that was a minor indignity compared to others she'd faced.

Primacy finally felt himself about to boil over. He closed his eyes and leaned back, content to revel in the minor victories he had achieved this day. "Spill not a drop."

The world tilted. Driven by the newest instruction, Memnos sealed her lips around his thick shaft. If she didn't dive deep on him, she sucked and bobbed and licked in a game effort to drain every last dreg of cum from his balls.

Primacy nearly collapsed in euphoria. Just when he thought he couldn't cum any more, she managed to bring him back to orgasm. The tears that continued to drip down her cheeks lubricated her efforts in more ways than one.

Finally, he staggered backwards and collapsed against the folding chair set up on the balcony. He caught his breath and inspected the woman and the ground around her. She had followed his instructions to the letter. Not so much as a drop had escaped her mouth or brushed her lips. There was no stain on her costume and no pool on the ground. No DNA evidence that could be used to identify him.

Primacy managed to stumble upright and handed her a bottle he had prepared earlier. It contained lemon-water, not only a favorite of hers but also a good drink to energize after such a bout. "Drink. Your body, at least will feel better."

She nodded and accepted the bottle. He watched gratefully as gulp after gulp cleared out the last possible vestiges of his essence. He knew of at least one villain who seduced heroes in order to gain their genetic code. Memnos handed him back the bottle with a nod of thanks.

"I'm sorry." He muttered. She understood instinctively that he did not mean anything he'd done to her, so his comment confused her enough that he felt an explanation was in order. "The rest of your team is dead. The PRA will not believe you just happened to escape with little more abuse than bruises and, perhaps, abrasions around your rectum."

Memnos continued to stare at him in confusion. Primacy took two steps back even as the hands of the robots closed around her arms. Her eyes widened when she finally realized exactly what was about to transpire.

"When you get a chance, report through the usual channels. Though I do not expect you will be reassigned any time soon. Your injuries alone will likely prohibit that. Even then, however, they will want you to clear a psych evaluation."

Primacy bowed respectfully. The robots lifted the blond double-agent easily and began to fly her back towards the site of the massacre. "Get well quickly. And remember, we will be watching."

Copyright January 2013, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 04



Kraken loved her job. She was well aware of how bad it was for others of her 'special nature'. In truth, how bad it could be for her.

If her unusual abilities consisted entirely of her prehensile hair, and maybe even her ability to jet through the water at superhuman speeds, she probably would have gotten an alias like 'Medusa' and would have been land-locked. Instead, she was fortunate to have the ability to breath underwater as well. As such, she was lucky enough to have been assigned to the maritime branch of the Paranormal Registration Association.

Like so many of the administrative overseers, Kraken's handler despised and feared the very people he was set to watch. In truth, he didn't even see her as a person. She was little more than a beast that could be trained to do some useful tricks. More importantly, she was a beast that needed to be leashed in case she lashed out at the real people of the world that he protected.

That was part of why it was such a blessing to have been assigned to the maritime branch. While he could control every aspect of her life, when at base, she also got to spend large amounts of time basking in the solitude of the ocean. There were so few paras suited to the sea that those they had were constantly needed for patrol. Unlike her land-locked piers, she wouldn't be stuck at base while they waited for something to happen.

That was the beauty of her job. She felt the freedom and power that others of her kind couldn't even imagine. Even those who could fly were rarely let loose to really exploit their capabilities. Sure, they could fly here and there, but could they ever open up and find out how fast or high they could fly with handlers constantly worrying that they would go rogue?

The downside of her freedoms was that she, like all in her branch of the PRA, were tagged with a GPS chip. The same chip acted as a satellite communications link. Wherever she went in the world ~or more likely the world's oceans~ they could find her and listen in.

"Kraken, report!"

Kraken tried to keep the sigh of resentment internal but wasn't sure if Braxton had heard it anyway. After all, the comm./GPS chip was subcutaneous. Otherwise, the passage of the water over it, as she zipped through the surf, would drown out any attempt at listening or reporting.

"Nothing to report yet, sir." She admitted. She failed to remind him that she had been given a very large area of ocean to comb through and her target was a very small boat on an uncertain schedule. That assumed that their information was correct to begin with and there really was a cutter running drugs out here.

"The thing has masts, for Christ's sake! How hard could it be to see with nothing but flat water around?"

Kraken forced herself to remain calm. She had to remind herself that it wasn't his fault, really. He might be an ass, but such misconceptions were pretty common among people who'd never really been out to sea.

"Sorry, sir." She calmly explained. "Unfortunately, the ocean isn't exactly a flat surface. The waves that dip and swell can be hundreds of feet high from top to bottom, which is more than enough to hide the single mast of a ship like a cutter. Further, distances out here are deceptive. A fifty-foot mast that's only a foot wide practically vanishes not too far away, if they don't have sails up."

Braxton grumbled but didn't press the issue further. That was about as close to understanding as she was likely to get out of him. She hadn't expected any more but it would have been nice for him to at least acknowledge she knew how to do her job. She'd been sent out often enough to track boats and ships that the coast guard couldn't afford to send someone after.

That was another advantage she had over the Earthers; the restrictions on what she was allowed to do were lighter. On land, paras were only authorized to take on assignments that involved other paras. Oh, in extreme cases the local government could authorize them to handle more mundane threats, but it rarely happened. After all, governors and above were usually too afraid the paras would get out of control and try to take over.

The lack of manpower on the high seas meant that the maritime branch was often called in by the coast guard, or even the navy itself, to help patrol waters against any threat; para or norm. Granted, she usually was only sent to pursue and report back, but that was fine by her. She wasn't a bad fighter, but her powers didn't really lend to taking on a boat. Anything more than half a dozen people and she needed backup.

"Just keep...out...water......sails...charm..."

Kraken slowed to a stop in confusion. In the seven years since she had become a full agent, she'd never had any problems with her comm. Orbit around the planet was littered with satellites to bounce signals to ~and keep track of~ agents anywhere in the world. She slowed and drifted slowly towards the surface in case that might help clear things up.

"Say again, sir? I'm having problems hearing you."

"Krak...eep...op...ork...ah...ah...zul..."

"Sir? Braxton! Can you hear me?"

Silence greeted her as Kraken's head broke the surface of the Atlantic. She felt a moment of panic as a chill of fear washed over her. She'd never particularly liked the fact that PRA monitoring was a constant probability in her life, but she had become accustomed to it. It never occurred to her that it had become something of a security blanket. No matter what happened, she knew that the PRA computers, at least, would monitor her signal and send an alarm for certain red flags.

A flicker of motion caught Kraken's attention. Even stunned by the unbelievable situation, she knew to keep her attention focused on her surroundings. There were plenty of predators in the water that could threaten someone stationary even if they could never catch her while moving.

"Perfect. Just perfect. The moment I lose contact I finally find the boat."

It occurred to Kraken that the two could very well be connected. If it was unheard of for a PRA comm. to lose contact, then something had to be the cause. If there were drug-runners, or worse, out here that wished to remain hidden, it wasn't unthinkable that they would find some way to block signals for anything near them.

"Crap!" Kraken muttered. The boat zipped along at the very edge of her ability to see it. It wouldn't take long for her to lose it if she didn't follow and there was no guarantee she would be able to find it again if she allowed it to slip past. She couldn't afford to back out to a range where she could get a clear signal from her handler.

Kraken ducked back under the water. With her arms practically glued to her side, and her legs together, she zipped full speed in the direction of the boat. Her body undulated and passed through the water like a torpedo. The water parted before her and pressed in on all sides like the warm embrace of a lover, but she couldn't afford to revel in the sensations.

Under water, she remained almost undetectable, even by sonar. Unfortunately, it also limited her own ability to see the ship. She'd begun in the general direction of the boat, but she needed to catch her bearings and make sure it hadn't made any sudden turns that might put her off its trail.

Keeping her speed, Kraken angled for an ascent. Within moments she burst above the waves. She only remained airborn for a couple of seconds but it was more than enough for her to verify the boat's location. She had trained in the tactic even before she joined the PRA. Even if someone happened to be looking in her direction, she would look like little more than a dolphin breaching the water. Which, not so incidentally, was where she'd gotten the idea from.

Kraken had covered more than half the distance to the boat in the scant minute she'd been swimming. She forced herself to slow down and remain relatively close to the surface. There was more risk of being seen, but she couldn't keep close track of the boat without it. Besides, the risk was minimal. She'd been on boats, both during training and since, and tried to spot an agent she knew was there. From a hundred yards away, the chances of being spotted were very slim.

Just a glimpse told Kraken that there were the people she was looking for. It would have been foolish to think they would walk around their own ship carrying guns, or something, when they had every reason to believe they were safe and unseen. It wasn't even the clothes or appearance that tipped her off. She just had a hunch.

There were four of them. One lounged against the railing with a fishing line trailing along in the water. Two more lay out, sunbathing, on the deck. The fourth sat in a folding chair by a console that could only be the ship's controls.

Kraken easily kept pace with the boat as it hurried its course northward. Not for the first time, she wished she had some sort of ability that would permit her to confirm that these seemingly laid-back vacationers were, in reality, running drugs. She felt a bit more acutely the loss of her comm. At least with that she had the benefit of passing on the responsibility of decision to someone else.

Now, all she could do was follow and report as soon as she could. Eventually the interference would have to vanish. If nothing else, they would need their own radio when they got close to their destination. Unless, of course, they plan on a clandestine meeting to pass along the drugs. She decided to set that worrisome thought aside for later and just trail the ship.

Every few minutes, Kraken tried her com again. The farther north they got, the more convinced she became that the boat was, indeed, the source of her communications difficulties. If something were to affect a wide enough area that they remained inside of it, it would surely have been noted before then. The only feasible answer was that it was moving along with them.

When the commotion started on the boat, it drew her attention instantly. Any break in the monotony was worth the effort. Kraken watched as someone knew climbed up from below and pointed at two of the three at the front of the boat. She was too far away to hear what was said, but the fisherman and the two sunbathing briefly argued back and forth before one of the sunbathers won and the other two followed the newcomer back into the bowels of the boat.

It wasn't hard to resist the urge to sneak closer and investigate. The closer she got, the higher the chances of detection became. This far out on her own, the mere thought frightened her. She might be a bit stronger than the average norm, even men, these guys looked rough enough to give her a run for her money. Without backup, she wasn't going to try her luck.

Kraken continued to pace the boat at her safe distance. While she waited for some change on the boat, she tried her comm. again with the same, predictable, outcome. There was little doubt in her mind that Braxton was fuming at the loss of contact and was filling the airwaves with withering tirades demanding she talk to him. There was nothing she could do about it now, so she hoped her diligence to the mission would at least mitigate his anger later.

When movement once again drew her full attention to the ship, Kraken missed a stroke in her swimming. Her breath caught and her mind refused to process what she was seeing for the first few moments. The two had returned from below deck carrying a large bundle. It appeared to be wrapped in black plastic and was heavy enough that they struggled with it, despite working together on their task.

"A body bag!" Kraken gasped when her mind finally registered the object they carried.

The newcomer followed close behind them and waved airily over the side of the boat. Dutifully, the thugs lifted their burden and wrestled it onto the rail. Kraken couldn't be positive, with the amount that they struggled, but she thought the bag itself accounted for at least some of the movement and difficulty.

Kraken watched, horrified, as the lump fell unceremoniously over the side of the boat. The black bag showed horrifically clearly against the pristine white backdrop of the boat's hull. It splashed into the water and immediately began to fall into the wake. Whoever was in it was lucky that the v-shaped wave pushed it clear of the boat rather than dragging it underneath. She had no idea with the sailboat had a motor or not but there was a reason for the term "keelhaul".

While the laws regarding what actions she could take against non-para criminals were tricky and dangerous, those that related to saving lives were more clear-cut. So long as she did not use her special abilities to cause damage to people or property, she was free to do all she could to protect lives.

With a life at stake, Kraken no longer needed to worry about being seen by those on the ship. With her speed, she would be in and out before anyone on the boat could react. Once she had whoever was in the bag, she would need to get them to a rescue vessel as quickly as possible. That meant she would lose the boat but her priorities were clear. If the person in the bag was already dead, they now had evidence of a crime that could be pursued. If they were still alive, whoever it was could give testimony against the crew on the boat.

Kraken sliced through the water at full speed. It took only seconds before she pulled up alongside the dark lump sinking beneath the waves. A close inspection, as she wrapped her arms around it, confirmed that it was, indeed, a body bag. She tightened her grip and hoped she wouldn't hurt whoever was inside. At the same time she hoped they were still alive to be hurt.

Something about the shape of the bulk within the plastic felt wrong to Kraken. Her mind hadn't fully processed the thought before her body began to pull her away from the boat and to a safe distance. She didn't get a chance to finish the thought before pain seared through every fiber of her being.

Kraken cried out. Her muscles refused to respond. Through the brief jolt of excruciating pain, she felt as if every cell in her body attempted to flee in a different direction. The pain itself only lasted for a few seconds ~though they seemed like an eternity to her~ but the effects lingered within her body.

Her muscles wouldn't work. That much she knew clearly. She could feel the unnatural way they twitched and jerked, still, beneath her skin. That was just about all her muddled senses would tell her, however. Her nerves were still overwhelmed by the memory of the pain. Her ears rang from some phantom of the shock. Her nose and mouth were useless; filled with water. And the muscles that controlled even her eyelids were too weak to move.

Or maybe it was her mind that didn't work properly. She was stuck in a loop, trying to figure out what had happened. The only other thought that managed to leak its way through her confusion was to wonder if she was dead. Fortunately, she managed to convince herself otherwise. Because if she was dead she shouldn't feel so miserable.

A bit of perception managed to filter through her various maladies. The world had darkened a bit. Once more she wondered if she was slipping away from life, only to remind herself she could still feel everything just as acutely. Something must have passed in front of the sun.

Adrenalin jolted through Kraken's body with sudden realization. A trap! The bag was a trap! She managed to peel her eyelids open just in time to see a rope lower from the very cutter she had been following. Somehow, they had known she was there and set a trap for her. She cursed herself mentally for her carelessness and stupidity, even thought she could think of nothing she could have done differently.

One of the men slid deftly down the rope until he hovered right above her. She didn't like the look in his eyes as his appraising gaze swept over her. Finally, after drinking in his fill of her body, he looked back up and shouted to his companions.

"Well, well, well. Looks like we caught ourselves a mermaid!"

"So long as she doesn't have a tail, I'll be happy!" One of the men still on the ship shouted back down."

"Nope!" The first man confirmed. "Which means we got ourselves some tail of an entirely different kind!"

Kraken's heart froze within her chest. She had been able to delude herself about the look in his eyes when he checked her out. There was no way to deny the implications of their banter. She wanted to thrash in the water. She wanted to jet away to safety. She wanted to wrap her hair around the man's neck and drag him under until his breath escaped in a torrent of bubbles.

Unfortunately, all she managed was to get her limbs, hair included, to sway lazily on the surface of the water. She couldn't imagine how powerful a jolt they must have used against her to get the effects to linger this long.

The man kept a careful eye on her as he was lowered fully into the water. With a few swift swipes of his dexterous hands, the rope was tied unceremoniously around her waist. The rope jerked her into the air with no subtlety. She lost track of the man in the water the moment she could no longer see him above her. Her world narrowed to the hull of the boat and the taut rope that pulled her ever upward towards the fate these men had in mind for her.

The advantage of the uncoordinated ascent was that it took more time than a smooth trip would. She guessed the men pulled her up manually rather than with a winch. She had begun to get some feeling back into her limbs, finally. She didn't think she would be very stable when she got to the top, but her weakened state might give her a bit of an advantage if they underestimated her at the beginning.

Before she reached the railing, two pairs of hands reached over the side of the boat and pulled her over. Instinct drove her to struggle when they switched to hold her arms while a third untied her ropes. The only control she could manage over her own, panicked, reaction was to hold back the majority of her rapidly recovering strength. Although still confident in the odds, now that she could move again, anything she could do to improve them was better.

"Stop!" The command itself was innately compelling, but the gun aimed directly at her head proved even more so. Poly-titanium fabric armor covered most of her body ~though you wouldn't know to look at the seemingly skimpy bathing suit the letch Braxton had put her in~ but her head lacked the near-invulnerable protection.

"That's right, I know about you freaks and your armored, invisible, costumes." The man with the heavy pistol was the same one who had ordered the two to dump the trap into the ocean. "I've done my homework, just in case a situation like this arose."

He reached up to lightly cup her face. In reaction, she tossed her head aside, violently breaking the contact. He let loose a deep chuckle that was far too masculine and far too confident for her tastes. Rather than follow her, his hand hooked into the neckline of her costume. He couldn't shift it even far enough to sneak his fingers all the way under, but he didn't seem concerned.

"Oh yeah. I know all about you freaks. I know a lot about a lot of things. For example, I know that no bodysuit ever made can be as completely seamless as your agency likes to make them out to be. It clearly doesn't stretch much, so there was to be some way to get you into it."

The tips of his fingers let go of the edge of her costume and began to glide downward. The shiver that ran through her muscles was mostly in revulsion, though she tried to deny the little bit that was her treacherous body's enjoyment of the gentle caress. The special material of the costume was designed to allow enough sensation through that it felt like nothing was there, provided a light enough touch that it didn't register as an attack.




The Villain Ch. 04



His hand ran smoothly around the curve of her breast. She fought the instinctive shiver when his thumb casually brushed across her unseen nipple. Kraken found herself thankful that the fabric, that looked and reacted so much like spandex, didn't bow outward to display the hardening of her nipple in reaction. She hoped to deny this monster any sign of satisfaction to feed his ego.

Quickly enough, his hand dropped below her breast to the invisible potion at her navel. With a normal two-piece bathing suit his hand would have bumped over the edge rather than continue as if there was no change in the material; which, in fact, there wasn't. He slid around to her side where his fingers cupped to her back possessively.

"Another thing I know; any where you can get in, you can use it to get out as well!"

His fingers curled roughly and exploited the nearly undetectable seam across the back that let her slip on the skin-tight suit. Each costume was designed independently so that no two had exactly the same entry. Even now, after seven years as an agent, she still found it difficult to find the seam sometimes.

Her body jerked forward at the rough treatment as he pulled harshly on the hole in her costume. Half of her back was suddenly exposed and, though it felt little different than through the miraculous fabric, she began to feel well and truly naked. This time, she didn't bother to hold back.

Two men held her arms, and the leader stood slightly off angle, so that she wouldn't be able to easily kick him in the crotch, but that was fine by Kraken. They had failed to secure her most effective weapon. Even half bent over her hair would retain its full leverage. If anything, her bowed head gave greater stability to her neck.

Four tendrils of hair lashed out as one. Two smacked her captors in the chests. The unexpected attack, and even more unanticipated strength, caused them to lose their grips and tumble against the rail of the boat. She could have continued to bash at them, and probably toss them overboard, but they were at the very edge of her reach and she was too conscious of overextending herself with the gunman so near.

A third snake of hair immediately reached for the leader's neck and wrapped tightly about his throat to cut off his air. His mouth and eyes gaped wide while his hands twitched toward the attack before he regained his composure and realized an attack would be more effective. With her costume in one hand and a gun in the other he had the potential to stop the assault instantly.

Her final tendril of hair went straight for the gun. Even as he began to swing the handgun back to aim at her head, the roped mass of hair whipped across his knuckles and sent the weapon flying. Bent over, she immediately lost track of it but remained confident it had flown far enough from his grip that it was no longer a threat. The same string of hair spun under her body and wrenched his grip from her costume and slowly fought his hand back between them.

For one timeless moment they stood there glaring hatred at each other. With his life at her mercy, however, there was no question who held the upper hand. A flare of red-hot rage made her wish she possessed the strength to snap his neck. A cruel grin spread across her face when she realized that she might not have the strength with just the little hair currently around his neck but she should if she focused all of it together.

Almost negligently, Kraken's outermost lengths of hair flicked out to smack her former captors. Already off balance, it didn't take much to topple them. A single hit to the chest was followed, almost instantly, by a sweep of their legs and over the rails they went. All the while the second strand joined the first around his neck.

The two free lengths of prehensile hair reared up like vipers. She waved them slowly, taunting him with the nearness of his death. Given the odds, no one would question if one of the criminals died while she tried to escape their captivity.

A hand grabbed each of the wayward tendrils at the same time. Before her shocked brain had time to process the change, her hair was yanked backwards. Her head snapped back and dragged her body off-balance. She refused to surrender her one advantage, at least, and the leader was yanked forward with her. She landed on her back, on top of someone, only to have the leader sprawl across her in a tangle of limbs and hair.

Feet pounded on the deck while Kraken struggled to free herself from the mess. She struggled and thrashed but the angle was bad. Whoever had her from behind didn't need to do much to keep her down. All he needed to do was keep himself tangled in half of her hair and she had no way to throw the leader off of her.

In moments, she was yanked to her feet. She tried to thrash free of their collective grips but found herself held fast. One man held each of her arms while three focused on wrangling her unruly hair.

"The mer-bitch has funky hair."

Kraken recognized the voice at her back as the man who'd been lowered down to catch her in the first place. She cursed herself for forgetting about him. He must have climbed back up while she dealt with her other captors. From there it was simple for him to get the drop on her. Her second mistake was not counting on even more people below deck.

"Hmm," the leader pondered. "I wonder if Medusa here has any more tricks? She obviously can't turn someone to stone, or else she'd have done it by now. Between holding us and that death glare she's shooting me, we'd all be statues."

He leaned close and gruffly grabbed her chin with an iron grip. The world narrowed down to him and the red haze of rage that pulsed across her vision. She heard the rasp of metal on leather but knew that whatever it was, there was nothing she could do about it so she continued to stare her defiance.

"Time to see if she's got anything else up her invisible sleeves. Hold her tight boys."

A momentary glint of silver out of the corner of her eye was the only warning Kraken got. His knife flashed up and immediately tangled in her hair. Her eyes flew wide with horror and her breath caught in her lungs. The men with her hair yanked it taught, her head still caught in the leader's vice grip. In moments she began to feel the strands begin to slice apart.

One hair at a time, each was torn in half. Her scream held less pain than anxiety. It didn't hurt, at least no more than the rough tug on her scalp before each finally relinquished to the sharp blade, but she could still feel every indignity.

Within a minute, her whole head had been shorn. The bastard hadn't bothered to shave her bald. Instead, he had roughly cut her hair to shoulder length. A small, vain, part of her damaged psyche bemoaned how inconsistently it had been cut; with some lengths many inches longer than others. Mostly, Kraken felt lost and blind. She could still feel through the remainder of her hair but she was used to it being a sensitive field that hovered about her.

Without so many men needed to hold back her extra limbs, Kraken was dragged backward until her back crashed painfully against the rail. Tears began to leak from her hazy vision as she beheld the tangled pile of hair that lay unceremoniously on the deck. The leader had dropped the knife and it lay tauntingly gleaming on top of the pile.

"Now then. I don't think we'll have any more trouble from this little slut."

Kraken glared daggers at the leader. He walked carelessly close and she lashed out with her feet, looking to kick that self-satisfied grin off of his face. Maybe she'd even get lucky and jam his nose into his brain or snap his neck.

Unfortunately, her focus had narrowed too closely on the leader. The moment she kicked out, a man on each side grabbed her legs. She floated, trapped in the grip of four men, off of the deck and spread eagle. For a delusional moment, her mind gloated that her costume wasn't as skimpy as it appeared and he'd never be able to get through it. Reality crashed down on her in a panic when she remembered he knew exactly where the seam in her outfit was.

Kraken thrashed. It took all of the concentration of the four men holding her arms and legs just to keep her under control. Unfortunately, with her hair shorn, there were still men to spare.

"Hold her!" The leader snapped. "You two, get down and grab her hips when I tell you. No! Under the bodysuit."

Kraken screamed denial and thrashed harder. The leader settled into position between her legs. When he crouched down, and reached under her to the seam along her lower back, she tried to close legs thighs around his head. Constant travel through the water had given her thighs strong enough to crush a walnut, she hoped his head wasn't so hard.

The men at her legs responded to the attempted attack by leaning backwards and slowly pulling her legs wider apart. Kraken screamed when her attempt caused her knees to bend unnaturally. Once more, her body betrayed her when her legs realized and opened her crotch wide to the man scant inches from it, all in a vain attempt to reduce the pain. The men, seeing only weakness yanked her legs even wider. Pain tore through her hips, unused to the extreme yield.

"Damnit!" The leader swore while glaring at the men who held her legs. "Think for a fucking minute! I can't get this thing off if you have her split like a god-damned wishbone!"

The two men glared at Kraken as if the beratement had been her fault. Even still, they shifted their grips to her knees and brought her legs closer together. The pain dulled instantly but the damage had been done. She continued to struggle but knew herself weaker both for their new position and the pain. She worried something might have torn but quickly reminded herself she had much greater concerns.

The leaders soft fingers brushed the small of her back and curled unerringly under the seam. One yank, even stronger than the one that had doubled her over when he tried to pull up, and the edge of her costume bit into the bottom edge of her toned ass.

"Now, you idiots!"

Rough, calloused, hands reached under the sides of the newly-made gap in the back of her costume. Fingers bit into her soft flesh and began to pull at her hips. Dry skin, toughened by the salty ocean air, scraped against her skin.

A fresh, cool, breeze blew across Kraken's pussy. The surprisingly gentle, soothing, sensation only heightened her panic. She was once more bent over, but this time they had managed to successfully peel her out of her only hope of protection.

The world blacked out momentarily with a sharp jab to her kidney. Her whole world narrowed to the splitting pain. She barely even remembered she needed to continue to fight. Another blow, this one to her leg, aptly reminded her of the trouble she was in. Pain lanced outward from her thigh, where someone hit her with a pipe. The resultant Charlie horse gave the beleaguered man on that leg a brief break from her struggles while she tried to right her body.

The world began to widen once more, only to reveal that her knees now pressed against her shoulders. She didn't remember if they'd put her down or merely dropped her. She immediately discovered a critical flaw in the design of her costume; one that had never dawned on her while putting it on. With both top and bottom pulled up sufficiently, she could be left in it unable to move, provided she didn't have the use of her arms to reorder her clothes.

The two men holding her arms now merely sat on her wrists. The lack of fight while the kidney-punch overwhelmed her had given them a sense of confidence. When she tried to struggle free, she proved it wasn't unfounded. She could barely curl her fingers through the pressure on her wrists.

"Look at that pretty pink pussy." Leered a man who came over and leaned back against her legs, pressing her ankles against the rail and opening her more thoroughly to her lecherous assailants.

"Hey!" The man who fished her out of the water shouted when the leader began to work his buckle. "What the hell? I went in after her, and if it wasn't for me she'd have popped your head off like a grape!"

The leader regarded him for a moment then nodded while he continued to open his belt. "You get her second. Everyone else gets to figure it out on their own."

"Please! Please, no. Please don't. Please. I don't want...I don't...please no." Kraken whimpered and begged. She didn't care about dignity any more. It terrified her that each moan and plea caused the cock that homed inevitably in on her to jump and pulse with anticipation.

The tip of his cock pressed against the soft folds of her core. He pushed forward and she screamed in pain. He wasn't any bigger than average but her terror proved insufficient to lubricate her. The dry, taut, skin of his dick dragged against flesh that refused to part, twice more, before he leaned back.

"Damn frigid cunt! You'd think a mermaid slut would be so wet you'd slide right in." Joked one of the mean standing back, waiting for his turn. He reached down and began to massage his crotch when Kraken began to sob.

Another scream ripped from her when something flat smacked heavily against her ass. The leader lurched to one side and smacked a board out of the hand of one of the crewmen. "Fuck you! You almost hit me with that you fucking cock-sucker! Besides, she ain't wet from all the struggling it's unlikely that will do much more than tighten her up!"

"Some of us like 'em tight, bastard!"

A few chuckles circled around her but the leader growled out a reply. "Yeah? Well, some of us don't have baby dicks. We're big enough we can't afford them too tight. Gimme that!"

The chuckles grew this time. Kraken couldn't see what he'd grabbed, between her own legs and the tears blocking her eyes. A flash of glass suggested a bottle of some sort, a moment before a torrent of liquid splashed across her dry folds and burned into her tender flesh.

Kraken screamed again. Then once more, louder, when he forced his cock into her barely wetted pussy. He growled and grunted as he used his own weight to push himself deeper. With every millimeter he progressed, the fires followed as the alcohol he'd used to lube her came into contact with freshly abraded flesh.

Every muscle in her body tensed when she felt his hips grind against hers. His grin revealed no little pain on his part but the savagery proved it failed to deter his enjoyment. Her hair whipped futilely around her face, the only part of her unencumbered enough to resist. Unfortunately, it only served to remind her how thoroughly they had already violated her.

Each fresh thrust became no easier to handle than the one before. Kraken felt as if her body were at once on fire and being blasted with gravel. Her muscles burned from the useless struggling until she could barely feel them. Her breath came in ragged gasps between sobs that had become as dry as between her legs.

With all of the pain and humiliation fighting to overpower each other, Kraken didn't think she would be able to fall any deeper. Shame and anger burned within her. She cursed her own stupidity for getting into the situation and began to wonder if this wasn't exactly what she deserved for her inattention. Maybe even what she deserved for being born a freak.

Kraken's mind focused sharply on the sudden, burst of pain deep inside of her. What already scraped and tore at her suddenly swelled and felt as if it would rip her open. The sudden pulsing that followed, along with his erratic rhythm, warned her what was about to happen. Her whimpered pleas took on fresh urgency.

"Please! Don't. Not that. Not inside!"

Her brain was too scattered to remember if she was on birth control or not, or whether it was near enough her time of the month. It didn't matter that he might even have some kind of disease. All that burned through her shame and humiliation was that it was one more slight; one more proof of her complete powerlessness.

The leader's crotch slammed against Kraken so hard that her body rocked and caused her head to slam into the gunwale. His back arched. His head flew back and a growl of pure contentment roared from his lungs. Fresh tears sprung from her eyes, where she thought herself used up. The world swam uncertainly and even her frenzied hair began to sway dizzily.

The leader staggered back. Kraken finally felt empty but what should have been a relief only burned all the more harshly with shame. A silky warm trickle of his cum began to seep from her and travel down the crack of her ass.

The sound of a zipper above her was cut short by a shout.

"Hey! You heard him! I'm next mother-fucker!"

"Aw, don't worry. You can have sloppy seconds. I just want to feel her tight, hot, throat wrapped around my cock as she chokes on my cum."

Part of Kraken reeled with terror. She'd never much liked giving guys head because it made her gag so easily. With all these guys around, there was no question that the bastard could do exactly what he threatened and overwhelm her with his dick and cum.

At the same time, a spark of hatred flared and she vowed she would bite off anyone who got close enough to try. She knew she was already dead. She would cause as much pain as she could before she died. Besides, it might even spur the freshly neutered pirate to hasten her death and save her from further humiliation.

"Stupid shit! She'll bite your cock off. And you'll deserve it, you dumb fucker."

"Eh," the man shifted from leaning against her legs to kneeling on one of her shoulders. His arm still pulled at her legs, stretching her doubled over, but now she could see his open pants and the dick he threatened her with. "I can still make her drink my cum."

Kraken could no longer respond intelligently. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and clamped her mouth closed. She could win some battles, even if tears continued to leak through the corners of her eyes. It didn't keep her from hearing the slap of flesh on flesh as his hand hit his crotch repeatedly or the feel of the way his knee dug into the tender joint of her shoulder.

"What? Too good to drink my cum, bitch? You're whore enough to let him stuff you like a turkey, it's time you got your gravy, slut!"

As with everything else on the fateful mission, she couldn't manage to keep her silent vow. Kraken had forgotten about 'Number Two'. Whether he was working in tandem with Foul-mouth or not, the result was the same. Her resistance remained for only an instant when she felt the tip of a cock press against the puckered flesh of her ass.

Her resolve crumbled instantly when he forced her open with a single hard shove. Her mouth flew open with a fresh scream of pain. Her lungs emptied almost instantly. When she sucked in a deep breath she began to sputter and choke on the thick slime that Foul-mouth had promised to shoot into her mouth.

Ironically, Number Two had an easier time of it than his predecessor, despite the virgin orifice. Likely he was smaller, and the leader's cum served to act as a form of lubricant for the unconcerned man. The ease with which he pounded into her, over and over again, didn't lessen the fresh sensation of being torn apart. The world quickly devolved into incomprehensibility in a spree of unbearable agony and humiliation.

Someone yanked her out of the bottom of her costume and stuffed the legs into her mouth.

She was thrown onto the railing and assaulted from behind while he smacked her ass until it was a mass of bloody welts.

Her hands were pulled aside, when she feebly tried to protect her eyes from the streams of cum, and smashed with a hammer.

Someone smacked her jaw so hard it dislocated. From there it was easy for the men to force her to swallow them whole without fear.

She was taunted with the hope of escape, only to have her leg broken when she tried to crawl to the edge of the gunwale.




The Villain Ch. 04



Kraken had lost track of how many times they had used her. All she could be certain of was that there wasn't a single one who hadn't taken more than his turn. She had learned to let go of her body. She continued to whimper and cry, long past the point where she ran out of tears. They thrived on her reactions and found new ways to pull them from her when she held back.

"What do we do with her now?"

"We can't take the chance she might scream in port. Someone might investigate the boat." The leader replied.

"Too bad." Another replied. "It'd be nice to keep her for some more fun on the trip back."

"Tie a weight to her and toss her over. In her shape she won't be able to escape. If she's really a fish then let the sharks have a buffet. If not, she'll drown."

"Hey. We could always mark the coordinates and see if she's still here in a few days when we come back through."

"Go for it." The leader agreed with a leer. "If she tries to use her comm., we'll detect her just as quickly as we did when she was following us."

The weight meant nothing to Kraken. It was a minor indignity. Every bruise, every injury they had done to her, flared when she hit the water. The pain of salt water in her wounds was almost lost beneath the damage itself.

Let the blood paint the water. Death is no more than I deserve, and better than the alternative if they come back. At least the sharks will finish me quickly.

She let shock wash over her like a blessing. She was home at last, back in the waters of the Atlantic. Once, she had felt safe here, untouchable. Now, she just hoped her end would come before they could find her again.

Kraken lost track of time in her fugue state. At first, she though the sensation of floating was due to a final release from her body. As awareness began to return, however, she realized there were straps hooked around her and she was being pulled to the surface.

She didn't even try to fight. Her body relaxed, her legs falling apart instinctively. The moment she broke the surface she began to whimper. Once more, she was pulled over the edge of the boat and surrounded by men with guns.

Someone was shouting. Kraken curled upon her side, her eyes screwed shut in shame and fear, careful to leave her sex exposed.

~~~~~~~~~

"Don't let that bitch anywhere near the edge of the boat!" Braxton railed at the troopers he'd brought with him. He glowered that the whole front line had already begun to relax their stances. Not a single one of them still pointed a weapon at the renegade freak.

"So, you thought you could escape us, you stupid little beast?" The handler began to push his way through the crowd of guards as he gloated over the coming fate of an agent who tried to get away. She had flaunted the privileges the PRA had afforded her. Now, she would be subject to the full extent of their scrutiny.

"We have a cage ready for you, suited to the monster you are!"

Braxton was pleased to see her curled on her side, completely defeated. Everything about her screamed of submission. Her body and hair couldn't protect her, no matter how much she tried to fold in on herself.

Braxton's planned tirade stuttered to a stop. Kraken had been his charge for seven years now, and though he hadn't paid that much attention to her, beyond what was necessary to keep her in line, he had come to know her well. He couldn't place what was wrong but his mind screamed that there was something out of place. Perhaps that was why the troopers had relaxed their guard.

His eyes homed in on the way her hair curved forward to cover her face like a shield. After a moment of contemplation, he realized there was too little of it by half! His first thought was that she had cut it in an effort to fool facial recognition routines. But that didn't feel right, for some reason. Besides, almost immediately, his mind began to register the rest of her state.

Horror washed through his psyche. She might be less than human, but there were laws against even treating animals this badly. She was at a thinking, feeling, being! Whatever else she was, she was his charge.

Braxton dropped to his knees and scooped her head protectively into his lap. She flinched markedly with even the slightest contact. Only as he pulled her close did he realize she was half naked, in addition to her multitude of injuries. Nor did he fail to miss the way she instinctively positioned herself in offering while she protected the rest of herself.

Braxton looked up at the collected troopers. All they could do was stare down at the poor girl in confusion. Couldn't they tell she was terrified to have so many intimidating men surrounding her? Didn't a single one of them realize she needed a doctor immediately?

"What are you waiting for?" He screamed at them. "Someone get a medic. A woman!" He added when the first of his guards began to stir. "And the rest of you, get the hell out!"

The troopers might never have seen him this panicked but they had been well trained to respond instantly to the commands of a handler. In moments the deck was clear and shouts were heard for a female medic.

Braxton barely noticed. He rocked her back and forth, crooning useless platitudes to the Para and terrified by the words that repeated themselves over and over from the girl.

"Please. Please, I'll do anything you want me to. Please. Please, I'll do anything you want me to. Please. Please, I'll do..."

Copyright January 2014, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 05



Why are villains so obsessed with rooftops? It's not like there's many more places they can go up here. Besides, we've got flyers who can keep track of them more easily!



While he was at it, Oberon wondered when Mandrake and Nightshade had become a trio? Of course, to judge from the way both women looked in the black cat-suits, he understood why Mandrake wouldn't mind having another kitten to play with. Of course, Oberon had always harbored a bit of a secret crush on Nightshade anyway.

Oberon would catch up to the criminal chemist and corner her. She would reveal that she'd been under the sway of the former assassin all this time. He had some sort of leverage against her that Oberon promised he would free her from. She would be so grateful that her body would press against his and...

Well, from there it generally devolved into a variety of fantasies; depending on what kind of sexual acts his subconscious felt he'd been missing recently.

Now he found himself leaping from building to rooftop in pursuit of them. He dodged around the exhaust pipe of a furnace and leapt into the open space over an alley. He hit the next roof hard but lunged forward into a roll designed to absorb most of the dangerous momentum and redirect it back towards the fleeing criminals. He didn't have the super-strength or invulnerability to be one-hundred percent safe up there, but free running was a hobby of his. It gave him plenty of time to work through problems and strategies against those on whose tail he'd been put.

Another thing didn't make sense. Why would two ~correction, three~ noted terrorists stoop to something as banal as burglary? Actually, it really was only two noted terrorists. Whoever the new chick was, she didn't have a file with the PRA yet. With a body and face like hers, his photographic memory would have remembered. For that matter, she had yet to demonstrate any paranormal abilities.

Oberon launched himself into empty space once more. This time, his hands wrapped around the rail of a fire escape. His feet hit the side of the building jarringly but he scrambled onto the metal platform and hurried up the steep stairs after the criminals.

Despite her pharmacological degree and doctorate as a chemist, Mandrake was the operational brains of the two. He planned the jobs and Nightshade followed his instructions to the letter. To the best of the PRA's research, she rarely knew the whole plan. It was supposed to be an operational security factor, but it was also the cornerstone of Oberon's unshakeable fantasies.

So why would someone who's arguably smarter than a woman with two different doctors degrees decide to branch out into petty crime by targeting a jewelry store? Sure, the upscale boutique actually maintained more portable assets than any bank in the city, and in a more compact form, but it also had nearly as much security and a much more paranoid tendency to trigger an alarm. It had been pretty much a given that the late-night sales associate would punch the button at the first time of dissolving hinges!

Oberon didn't have time to worry about such minor details. The suspects had just leapt off of the roof he was on and landed on the heavily slanted steeple of a church. It was going to take all of his concentration not to fall off of that one. For all his time free running, Mandrake and Nightshade made it look easy. And, from the looks of it, the new woman was part cat the way she handled herself.

The only hope he had of catching them lay in the endurance he'd built up. He could keep this pace up for most of a day. He doubted there were many people out there, without powers suited to this kind of thing, that could boast the same.

All three of the criminals landed with equal precision. Oberon's eyes suddenly narrowed when the newcomer slid mere inches down the shingled roof. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to cause Nightshade's steps to falter. With her rhythm broken, her surety followed. Nightshade's arms flew straight out to her sides in an effort to regain her equilibrium.

Her companions paused, more balanced and certain, and glanced behind at her. From the angle Oberon had, he could see the concern in the woman's eyes. It was answered by annoyance from her male partner and what looked like gloating from the newcomer. Oberon couldn't hear what was shouted back and forth between Mandrake and Nightshade but the tone didn't sound pleasant.

Oberon's own breakneck pace stuttered when Mandrake leered back at his, apparently-former, partner and tossed the heavy satchel he carried directly at her. Instinctively, Nightshade's arms swung in to catch the bag against her chest. With the removal of her arms from her balance and the additional backwards force of the pack, Nightshade lost her footing and began to slide quickly down the steep slope.

In the horrifyingly long time that she seemingly slid across the shingles and launched into mid-air, everything became crystal clear to Oberon. Nightshade never bothered to question why they needed the jewelry. She followed her partner's lead as always, content that there was a valid reason for every move.

Unfortunately for her, there was. Whoever the newcomer was, she was meant as a replacement for the chemist rather than a compliment to her skills. He had known they would set off alarms, might even have done so himself. He planned the escape route with that very church in mind and sprung the trap. If she survived the fall, she should be too badly injured to make good her own escape. She would have the loot and would be put away for a very long time. If she didn't survive, so much the better. He was still rid of her.

Oberon realized it wasn't Nightshade's fall that was slow but rather his perception of time. There would be no one else near enough to save her from the fate Mandrake had planned. In an instant, he made up his mind and shifted his course appropriately.

Time snapped back to normal speed, or perhaps even twice as fast. Nightshade was already over the edge and a third of the way to the ground when he reached the edge of the roof and lunged forward. The moment he had dropped past the edge of the building he dropped his hand to his side and shot a quick blast of water straight at the building. The jet pushed him forward fast enough to overcome her disadvantage in timing.

Nightshade slammed into his shoulder while still in mid-air. Oberon wrapped his arm around her and brought her firmly against his body. He threw his other hand towards the ground and unleashed a torrent of water straight down. He had never attempted such a feat, but he hoped he would at least be able to slow their fall enough to avoid serious injuries. He counted himself thankful that the stressful situation caused his ability to open to its fullest rather than choke off in panic.

Oberon rolled his body to land shoulder-first. He thought he had bled off enough momentum but he wanted to be safe. He interposed his body between the ground and his charge. At the last second he shut down the rush of water and wrapped his other arm around her.

The ground hurt. Oberon tucked his body around Nightshade and rolled across the floor of the alley. His back hit the wall of the church and jarred his arms loose. Nightshade bounced off of his chest and rolled free. If she chose to bolt at that moment, he wasn't certain he'd be able to react in time to catch back up with her.

Whether Nightshade was stunned ~physically or mentally~ or simply to relieved to be alive, Oberon would never know. He lay on his side with his back pressed against the church and tried to catch his breath. Nightshade lay on her back, only a foot or so away, with her breath heaving just as heavily. The fateful satchel of loot remained clutched in her arms, pressed against her stomach.

The moment Oberon began to take sock, he realized his body had already had more than its fill of the landscape. If not for his tight costume, his appreciation would have already been not only visible but embarrassingly lewd.

The zipper of Nightshade's cat-suit had begun to slip. It was only a couple of inches but that was more than enough to reveal the dark, chocolate, cleft of her cleavage. Further, her breasts strained against the edges to the outfit with each heaved breath. He found that the water that had saved their lives had splashed back to cover both of them and drench their outfits. Her already form-fitting costume clung to her body with fresh determination.

Nightshade dropped her head to the side to look at her rescuer. Relief, gratitude and anxiety all warred in her brown eyes as she regarded Oberon. After a few seconds of dazed immobility, he realized that she knew exactly where his own gaze was focused when the corner of her lip quirked up in a smirk.

"My hero."

Her breathless admission contained just a hint of irony. If he hadn't already had a bit of a crush on her, the sultry way she managed to both thank him and mock him simultaneously would have instantly sent a rush of blood to his groin. As it was, he was afraid he might begin to test the capabilities of his costume to contain him.

"Nightshade." He gasped. He was short of breath for an entirely different reason from the recent exertion. "You know I'm here to take you in."

Her eyes widened with sorrow and her mouth drooped in a sad pout. "I was led on. He took advantage of my naïveté and used me for his own gains."

"Uh huh." Oberon mocked skeptically. "And all those times you two were caught on video kissing and enjoying the rush, those were how he controlled you?"

"Bastard dumped me for that new slut!" Nightshade knew he wouldn't buy her helpless innocent act, but she tried to keep it up even as she swore at her former partner and his new fling. He had to admit, she was even more attractive when she tried.

Oberon chuckled at her resolve. He rolled himself into a sitting position and began to test his muscles. He was surprised to discover his body sore, but otherwise unhurt. Now that he knew he could do it, that was a stunt he needed to start practicing. Given experience, it was likely he'd be able to manage it without any strain. When he got to his shoulders and neck, he stood up and began a few basic calisthenics designed to loosen him up.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to tell them I got away? You could even recover the jewelry."

A glance over at Nightshade spurred an almost comical double take. Rather than get up, she had rolled onto her side and propped herself up by an elbow in a pose that would have made Bettie Page proud. Oberon found himself having trouble breathing. He swore her zipper had descended another couple of inches!

Once more, the world began to slow for Oberon. Nightshade rolled casually onto her stomach and began to crawl towards him. His body froze in uncertainty. He would have questioned the reality of the situation, but his fantasies had never been this vivid!

If he was uncertain about his waking state, there was absolutely none about her intentions. The brilliant chemist, who happened to be housed in the body of a goddess, stalked towards him on hands and knees. The hunger in her eyes might be for freedom, but the way she licked her lips suggested there were other ways she was willing to sate it.

Oberon searched desperately for the satchel. His eyes darted about, mostly in an attempt to focus on anything except the rapidly approaching ethical quagmire. His gaze homed in on it all too quickly. When Nightshade had shifted positions to taunt him she had set it aside. It sat on the ground behind her, forgotten.

Behind her. Practically framed by her luscious, round, full ass. An ass that glowed with the way the light played off of the tight leather of her pants.

"You like what you see?"

Oberon glanced down and instantly fell into her well-laid trap. While his eyes had been locked on her butt, Nightshade had closed in until she was scant inches from him. From his angle, when she looked up at him, the lump in his outfit bulged just far enough to cover her chin and suggest a connection to her pouty lips.

"Never mind. I can tell for myself that you do."

Nightshade's eyes had dropped to inspect his groin. She arched her back and lifted her head. Her body followed and curved upward until she knelt before him. Her smile spoke volumes about her own seductive desires.

This time there was no question that her zipper had dropped even further. Her leather suit was open clear past her navel to teasingly hint at the black stubble of hair beneath. The material pulled from the sides, separating her pert breasts and slipping to reveal the soft mounds. He couldn't help but wonder how little pressure would cause her dark nipples to pop free. The leather hid the truth, but he imagined they wee already large and hard.

All of his observations distracted him from her actions. His conflicted Id and Ego were desperate for any excuse to avoid a moment of decision that he was certain would stop her. He couldn't even allow himself to be thankful that his costume resembled more traditional clothing rather than the bodysuits so common to other agents of the PRA.

Nightshade unclasped his buckle. Her eyes had returned to his, as if aware of his need to remain distracted. She smiled and tilted her head to one side as she blinked her thick lashes innocently. Her deft hands needed no supervision to slide open his pants and reach inside. She pulled out his treasure in hands cupped like a penitent.

"Poison," Oberon gasped. The very tip of his member had found the hole at the center of his boxer-briefs.

Nightshade's expression turned to one of gentle reproach at the reminder of her innate powers. "Please. My body might be capable of producing all sorts of toxins but it you feel yourself succumbing to anything dangerous, we both know your own powers could neutralize anything I make instantly."

This time, Oberon's inarticulate gasp was one of surprise. "You know me?"

For a brief instant, Nightshade's gaze dropped to the prize she lovingly cupped in her hands before they closed in contentment. When she began to rub her cheek against him, he realized that the war was over and he could not bring himself to stop her, no matter what happened to him as a consequence.

"Oh, I know a lot about you, Oberon." She murmured as she nuzzled his full form. "Your ability to create any liquid you can conceive of makes you the PRA's obvious choice to counter me and bring me in."

Oberon opened his mouth to...he wasn't entirely certain what he would say in response to that. It didn't matter. Just as he was about to need to figure it out, the protruding tip snagged against the corner of her mouth. Rather than adjust to continue to rub him, her lips parted and he slipped in between her closed teeth and her cheek.

Blood surged into his groin while he groaned in appreciation. She made an appreciative noise of her own when he managed to pulse slightly larger.

Nightshade opened her mouth, careful not to allow her teeth to drag across his silky flesh as she rolled his hard length centered in her lips. Her tongue glided across the underside of his shaft to take in his salty musk. Oberon groaned and his blood pulsed once more against the constraints of his already taut flesh.

Oberon shuddered when Nightshade's head drifted back. Her tongue caressed him from base to tip before he slipped free of her mouth with an audible "pop". He wasn't sure how long he could hold out. He closed his eyes, certain that any more visions of her wrapped around his lust would be too much. His back was pressed against the wall of the church and his fingers grasped against the stone in search of anything to hold on to.

"Mmmmmmm. You taste good."

Her hands kneaded his hips as she steadied herself and ensured his positioning. She placed a few light kisses on his tip, each one with a fresh shudder. Her lower lip lingered across the ridge that defined the underside of his head and his hips began to shake. His balls were on fire and overloaded with the need to empty themselves, inside of her if possible.

He was so intent on the sensations she drew from him that he barely registered her fingers entwine with his. Each light bob of her head taunted him at the edge of fulfillment. His hands clenched around hers. His mind began to fracture under the prolonged stress of her unwillingness to let him finish.

It all happened so fast he would never clearly recall what she did.

Nightshade's head slammed forward to pierce herself on him. Her jaw collided with his groin and burrowed against his already strained flesh. She sucked in, encouraging his body to spill into her.

He found his fingers buried in her curly hair, her own hands conspicuously absent from his perceptions entirely. His body crushed her against him, intent to ensure every last drop of burning essence poured into her. Her moan could not be mistaken for anything other than appreciation and the vibrations pierced straight into his groin to goad his body to greater release.

Nightshade's tongue and mouth worked tirelessly. Her throat clenched constantly in an effort to swallow down everything that poured out of him. Her tongue glided back and forth beneath him, both coaxing him to greater heights and preventing his solid mass from choking her.

Oberon's body shook beyond his control. His knees turned to jelly. If not for the wall behind him, he would have collapsed. His arms went limp once his muscles betrayed him. Her hands reappeared in a timely effort to hold his hips in place and prop him up as her head began to bob forward and back.

Oberon's back arched as all his muscles seized at once. Where he thought himself well and truly spent, her fresh determination sent him spiraling over the edge and into another unbearable climax. His already overtaxed senses began to fade when he became lightheaded from his constant gasps.

Nightshade didn't simply stop. Her head fell away from him but she plunged back down once again and her jaw pressed against his hilt once more. A few seconds later she retreated only to bury her face in his groin once more.

Oberon's world slowly began to expand as the torturous euphoria began to fade. She had finally stopped sometime after his aftershocks turned into dry spasms. Now, her head bowed over his rapidly softening length like a penitent. Deep brown pools stared innocently up at him through her lashes.

A single drop of his pearl lust beaded at the corner of her mouth; like a beacon against her rich flesh. Without even a glance in its direction, Nightshade lifted a single finger and swept her face clear. The way she seemed to relish the taste, when her lips pursed around the finger and sucked it clean, caused a stirring of fresh reaction from him.

Her gaze never left his. It pinned him in place as surely as her hands had moments before. Although no longer restricted by climax, his senses could expand no farther than her wondrous eyes. They sparkled playfully still, even as they continued to pretend innocence.

Nightshade's head dropped farther and her eyes widened pleadingly. "Do you really have to take me in? I can be a very, very, good girl if you don't."

Oberon barely managed to suck a breath in through lungs tensed with anticipation. It took a few more attempts before he felt confident he would be able to speak with even a semblance of control.

"I do. You know I do. But I could speak on your behalf. Get you paroled on a research assignment, or something."

Nightshade's lips pouted. When her eyes dropped from his, he very nearly felt as if the world had spun out from beneath him and he was left falling helplessly.

"You know they'll never believe I have changed." Her voice was a mew of disappointment. "And, while I appreciate your willingness to speak on my behalf, you know you're just another para to them. For all they expect, you're just a breath away from becoming part of the problem."




The Villain Ch. 05



Oberon nodded. His face fell sour, only to be repaired the instant her uplifting gaze returned to his. Instead of falling, he was floating once more. In fact, his length began to bob up and down, refreshing itself. It was very nearly a miracle that he could get it up so quickly after such an amazing double-orgasm. He could practically still feel her moist lips against the base of his shaft, a sensation that only quickened his recovery.

All breath left Oberon's body when she leaned forward. Nightshade's hands fell comfortably to his hips. He felt slightly disappointed when she turned her head aside to lean her cheek against his thigh. At least that left her amazing mouth and warming gaze that much nearer to his lust.

What truly stole his ability to function, however, was the warmth of her soft breasts pressed against the inside of either knee. He had been so focused on her eyes that he completely failed to notice she had stripped the top half of her cat-suit off. It now hung from her waist like a discarded cape. Of their own accord, his hands found their way to her shoulders.

"You know, the very reason they sent you after me is the same reason we would have been so perfect together."

"Huh?" Oberon managed to drag forth intelligently.

"Your powers. You can counteract any toxin I produce." Nightshade explained. When she mentioned her own abilities, she gave the base of his manhood a quick lick. His lower body responded with a spasm. When he relaxed once more, he was as hard as he had ever been. Something niggled at the back of his brain, but Oberon was too dazed with need to figure it out.

"Think about it." She continued as she began to climb his body. So slowly. Too damn slowly. "My body is limited in what it can create, both in variety and quantity. Yours, on the other hand, can produce almost an unlimited quantity of any basic liquid you can imagine."

Her pert breasts traveled up the inside of his thighs. When they reached his crotch, they dragged across the sensitive flesh where his legs met his hips. He gasped what little air remained in his body free. In moments his engorged shaft lay smothered between the pillowy heat of her breasts. He feared he would unman himself then and there. Unfortunately, the thought of her dark chest spackled with his gleaming seed didn't help his control any.

"You lack knowledge and complexity. Together, I could use my degree to guide you in which chemicals to create. From there, my own body could process them into complex creations. Think of the people we could help. If we combined our powers, think of the research we could accomplish."

Thankfully, for Oberon's sanity, Nightshade continued her ascent. Now, his length remained only trapped between the warmth of their bodies and not surrounded by her hot, soft, flesh. Meanwhile, her hands had traveled lightly up his sides. When she reached his arms, she shifted her path to circle around behind him. He could feel her fingers trace the defined edges of his shoulders and was heartened by the way her body shuddered ever so slightly in reaction. Whatever else she intended, there was genuine attraction between them.

All of Oberon's concentration flew away. She timed her rise perfectly. His shaft settled firmly into the depression between her closed legs at the exact moment she spoke of combining. Although he could feel the zipper of her outfit pressed against the base of his lust, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there remained enough slack in her costume that he could slide beneath if only her legs parted slightly and his head wasn't pressed firmly between their navels.

Nightshade nuzzled her cheek against his chest. "Of course, we would need to experiment to find out the best way for you to deliver your bounty to my body. That kind of research can take hours and hours. Pushing our bodies and powers to their limits. Willing to try anything the other can think of?"

Oberon let his own hands wander across the smooth expanse of her back. It felt so right to be pressed against her. To hold her and have her hold him. A sheen of sweat was all that lay between their hard bodies. He figured it must be hers, since he hardly ever felt overheated. Besides, it was almost a balm to his tense body, one that he would have loved after a good workout.

"Oh!" Nightshade gasped.

Oberon tried hard to focus. He wanted to discover what had elicited such a moan of surprised delight from her. After far too long endeavoring to concentrate, he finally realized that his hands had drifted down her back and now held her soft ass firmly.

Another revelation occurred a moment later when she wiggled her hips back and forth. He slid even more firmly between her legs, no longer impeded by her cat-suit. He must have slid it down when he reached for her butt. Now, he found himself almost buried within her dripping wet heat.

Oberon's core burned with need. He couldn't think, couldn't reason. All that consumed his mind was the demand to shift that last little bit and pierce her inferno.

"OOOOOOOH!"

Nails dug into Oberon's back. He hadn't bothered to ask permission. Everything she had done expressed her own need for it. She had practically demanded he do it with that little hip wiggle of hers, the one that had brought his tip to the very folds of her lust.

His mouth bore down on hers before she could even think of protest. In an instant their positions were reversed. Her pressed her back against the wall of the church. He drove himself into her with rough, insistent, strokes. His tongue violated her just as thoroughly, probing her mouth in discovery.

After a moment, Nightshade's fingers relaxed. Her tongue loosened and began to dance with his. Trapped between him and the wall, she leapt up and wrapped her legs around his hips. She began to yip soft sounds of desire in time with each of his grinding thrusts.

What had begun as a burning, tingling, need in his loins spread inexorably outwards. His tongue felt thick and sluggish compared to the deft nips and plucks of her teeth and lips. Her hips twisted, rocked, and swayed in time with his rhythm. Her short appeals quickly gained in strength until she broke off the kiss in an effort to release her moans.

"Yes! God, please! Fill me up! Give it all to me! Cum for me!"

Her screams echoed in the hero's ears and burned across his flesh a trail directly to his overtaxed groin. Oberon instantly lost control of his body. Liquid fire filled every pore. His now-erratic rhythm beat against her, desperate to return the need she had built within him and pour it back into her. She met his fervor with nails across his back and matched his grunts with growls of her own.

Oberon's legs gave way. He began to collapse. Only her quick reactions saved him from a jarring impact with the ground. Without so much as slipping free of him, Nightshade guided their bodies until he lay immobile on the ground with her straddling him.

Only then did Oberon begin to realize his condition was only partially the result of his overwhelming bliss. Everywhere her body had pressed against him, his muscles locked. His tongue and lips refused to twist to form words. All he was capable of were the continued grunts and groans while she continued to milk his flesh.

Nightshade's head dropped back, her eyes already closed. She bit her lip and moaned furiously. Her arms reached up and folded back to tangle within her hair. Her back arched, thrusting those perfect breasts skyward. Her hips continued to rock and buck, driving him deep inside her while crushing her bright pink pearl against him and sending her even farther over the edge.

Trapped within his own body, Oberon could only marvel at the side of the goddess that had blessed him twice now. Their bodies betrayed polar opposition, stark in contrast, that blended together to make a more perfect whole.

Even through locked muscles, Oberon continued to feel the climax Nightshade refused to relinquish. His own euphoria mounted exponentially without the ability to give voice to his bliss. The inability to release his pent-up lust through his body allowed it to back up within him and overwhelm his already distraught and tormented mind.

Finally, even Nightshade could no longer bear up her own climax. She collapsed on top of him. Her breath heaved. Oberon reveled in the way her breasts pressed against his chiseled stomach. Her hands cupped his sides with a feather-light caress.

"I wasn't lying, you know." Nightshade whispered while she once more nuzzled her cheek against his chest. "We would be perfect together. I've always known our powers would compliment each other's perfectly. Now you proved our bodies do as well."

Nightshade sighed deeply. Reluctantly, she pushed herself up. His limp form finally slipped out of her with a steady trail of his lust. She glanced down and sighed again.

Oberon lay helpless on the ground as she reached over and grabbed her outfit. She sat on his stomach while she pulled the cat-suit onto her. When her hands reached areas where he continued to coat her, her hand swirled across it as if she could work it into her flesh like an expensive moisturizer.

Fully dressed, Nightshade perched on him, with her knees pressed against his sides. Her eyes looked longingly down at him. She bit pursed lips and blinked furiously.

"Please." She whispered to him. "I can't let them take me. But when you're ready, come find me. We needn't commit crimes, or anything. I was serious about that too. We could help so many. Maybe find new drugs to cure diseases."

She dropped down, once more, until the cool leather suit pressed against his torso. With one last nuzzle, she pushed herself off and began to walk away. She took a quick glance at the satchel and kicked it closer to him, an offering of her intentions and a means to keep himself out of trouble with his employers.

"Find me."

Trapped within his body, Oberon knew his time as an agent of the PRA was over, one way or another. He only hoped he could find a way to walk away from them before they realized the same truths and locked him up.



Copyright January 2014, by Deathlynx



The Villain Ch. 06



Cupid watched from on high as the woman tried to discreetly shift through the crowd to get to the bar. Heads turned to follow her path anyway. There was no way this young woman would be able to sneak through an establishment like this. In truth, she would be hard-pressed to remain unnoticed even among the models of a Paris fashion show. Those flat-chested, anorexic, wannabes couldn't help but pale in comparison to this full-figured Latino beauty.

She was proof that a percentage or two of body fat only made the female form more perfect. Of course, the D-cups and full hips didn't hurt either. And all of that was completely independent of the bright red-white-and-blue spandex outfit that clung to every curve to leave no hint of her body to the imagination.

And she had turned eighteen only days before.

For reasons known to very few, Cupid kept a very close eye on the PRA. Oh, he didn't have nearly the penetration of the organization as he would really have liked, but he at least kept track of every scrap of public knowledge they let slip. And it was hard not to know about the baby girl that had been discovered with the ability to float, literally since birth.

Initially, Cupid hadn't taken much interest in her. What did it matter to him if the group that monitored and licensed paranormals had adopted some brat to be officially raised by them? The answer was, nothing more than any other agent he could get info on. It wasn't until a year or so ago that he became aware of how alluring she had become.

Lust was nothing to be scoffed at. All of Cupid's life revolved around the carnal emotion. It was the heart of the strip club he ran and the attached hotel rooms that he owned. And it was the focus of the ability he kept secret from everyone. Oh, there might be a few that had guessed he was a para, but as long as he kept away from the telepaths and power sensors, no one could prove anything.

Then again, someone at the PRA had guessed a para operated out of Cupid's Desires or Sparrow wouldn't have been there right now. That was fine by Cupid, however. In fact, he had cultivated that sentiment very closely, over the last few months.

Shortly after Sparrow had come fully onto his radar, Cupid had quietly sought to discover who her handler was. Once he knew, it was pure simplicity to arrange a chance encounter. After that, her handler had taken advantage of the at-cost drinks that friends of the owner got at the strip club.

As the date of the magnificent heroine's majority approached, Cupid began to use his ability on her handler. Every time a certain dancer took the stage, the club owner shot the tiniest bit of lust straight at the handler's libido. The greater the sensation, the more he would tip the girl. Over time, he gradually increased the effect until, days ago, it must have been great enough that the handler finally realized it wasn't a completely natural effect of the woman's gyrations and unspoken suggestions.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Cupid, though he usually made certain to vary both the targets and the recipients of their attentions. A little here, a little there, and his club had a reputation for having the most alluring dancers around.

Now, Sparrow had been sent to investigate her young handler's suspicions. Just on schedule.

As Cupid watched, the bartender pointed the luscious heroine towards the stairs. Per protocol, she would seek out the owner of the establishment in order to arrange a conversation with the suspect. Cupid pressed the intercom button on his phone and hit the number of his manager's station, back stage.

"Pearl. Please have Ruby sent up to my office?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Cupid."

"Darling. How many times have I told you? It's just Cupid."

"Many, I suspect, Mr. Cupid." Cupid rolled his eyes at the endearing byplay. "If you're in need of some relief, however, I would be more than happy to accommodate you. I think things will run smoothly without me for a short while."

Bless her. Like all things, use of his ability came with a price. While not nearly as potent, Cupid was afflicted with a fraction of the lust he inspired. It was a small boost each time but by the end of the night it could become nearly unbearable.

A few of the longer-running girls had noticed his burden, although they thought it no more unusual than being forced to watch the erotic displays for hours on end. They had taken it upon themselves to help him relieve the tension. It was by no means a condition of working there. He had never even approached a single girl about it. One of them invariably showed up, sometime near closing time, and worked her wiles on him in the privacy of his office. When a newer girl showed up, he knew she had caught on to the action, been set to rights about the nature of it, and had chosen to offer herself.

Cupid found himself a bit disappointed that Pearl might think he would ask for it himself. At the same time, he was flattered that she was willing, even eager, to help him. He considered it proof of how well he treated the girls that they had to work out a schedule to allow everyone who wanted a chance to help. He'd never seen the list, but he'd caught whispers when they thought he couldn't hear.

"No, thank you, Pearl." He responded quickly. "Actually, we have an unexpected guest I believe wants to speak with her."

"Understood, Mr. Cupid. I'll send her right up."

Cupid smiled and shook his head once more. She was a bit incorrigible but he could not fault either her devotion or her capabilities. Without her, the club would never run half as smoothly as it did.

A knock at the door turned his head. Sparrow had vanished into the stairwell just long enough ago that it should be her. The push of another button on the phone unlocked the door even as he called out. "Enter."

Cupid was every bit as susceptible to attraction as anyone else. The door opened and his breath caught. He had never seen Sparrow in person. She was taller than he expected, even though he knew her exact dimensions from his research. She also walked with full confidence in the authority granted to her as one of the most trusted agents of the PRA.

Red boots climbed to her knees but the lack of any significant heel proved the height was all hers. Above that, her outfit shone shockingly white. Somehow, the very purity of the color drew attention to her perfect curves. A deep blue began beneath her arms and traced the upper curve of her breasts to plunge between them like a dagger and further accentuate her perfect figure.

Cupid couldn't help himself. His power reached out to tickle her. The moment he saw her, his need became achingly acute. In a fitting reciprocal of his normal ability, whenever something attracted his desire so strongly, he could not help but reflect a portion of that need on the object of his desire.

"Mr. Cupid. My name is Sparrow. I'm with the PRA and am here on official business."

No one could own an establishment dedicated to desire without understanding the slightest signs of it. Likewise, he had learned early as a result of his own abilities. A small flare of triumph curled through his breast as he watched the young heroine try to cope with her sudden desires, however small.

Muscles low in her body clenched ever so slightly. Her lip sucked in to be nibbled on during each pause in her prepared speech. Her eyes darted about nervously, though he obviously couldn't tell if she instinctively sought escape or looked for any possible witnesses should she succumb. Either way, her focus settled on the window behind him that looked out onto the whole of the club.

"Welcome, Sparrow." Cupid managed to offer without too many signs of the strength of his own desire. "Please, have a seat. And call me just Cupid."

"Thank you." The look in her eyes demonstrated exactly how honest her grateful reply was.

He understood completely. Sitting, they both found themselves less likely to reveal their aroused states. Unfortunately, seated in front of the desk as she was, there was nothing to mar his sight of her as there was her of him. The faux-spandex material of her costume continued to entice him so neither felt a measure of relief from his need.

"How can I help you, Sparrow? Does the PRA suspect I might harbor some super-powered villain?"

"In a manner of speaking only." She quickly assured him, unaware of her increased desire to please him as he pleased her. "It is far more likely that we've merely uncovered someone with an innate ability they were simply unaware of. If there's anything here at all, of course."

"Of course." He agreed. "How may I be of service?"

Cupid added a hint of innuendo, along with the slightest intentional use of his ability, with the offer. He was pleased and heartened to see her breath catch, almost imperceptibly. What surprised him, however, was the way she began to fidget immediately. If he had to guess, either it had been quite a long time for the girl or she had never actually consummated a relationship before. He had suspected she might be a virgin, but he had no proof of it. That would make this conquest that much sweeter.

"I need to speak with one of your dancers. I believe her stage name is Ruby?"

"Of course. I assume you would like to use my office for a private audience?"

Sparrow's flush of embarrassment came as a bit of a surprise to him. After a moment of reflection, he realized the possible, and completely unintended, innuendo. He also realized that her allure only increased when her embarrassment flared. He knew he could easily bring about the same reaction in much more pleasurable ways. That caused another pulse of his ability between the two which very nearly set up a recursive loop when she thought the spike of lust might have come from her own thoughts and caused further embarrassment.

To break the cycle, Cupid quickly stood and hurried over to the door. He knew that to look at the young woman would cause him to lose the last shreds of control. It had only happened once before but a lack of focus with his ability so near meltdown could cause the entire club to devolve into an orgy of desire that only stopped when he finally passed out.

Cupid leaned heavily on the doorknob as he pulled it open and crossed the threshold into his waiting room. Ruby stood immediately the moment he came out. One look at him and she began to advance with a playful glint in her gaze.

As turned on as he was, he desperately wished he could take full advantage of the promises those eyes made. His body hummed with demands that he except her offer and release every bit of sexual tension by making her scream in pleasure. Not to mention release himself as deep as he could bury himself between her thighs. Only two things stopped him. The first was that there was no guarantee that it would corral his perilous control. The second was that he knew he would lose any chance to be with the lovely young heroine in the other room.

Cupid waved Ruby off and collapsed into a chair. Concerned, the dancer hovered over him. She knew his body cried out for her but just as certainly could sense it wasn't really her he wanted. After a few deep breaths, he managed to explain to her who was in his office and what she wanted.

More confused than concerned, Ruby crossed the room and closed the door behind her. Cupid gripped the arms of the chair and continued with his deep breaths. He could think of nothing else but control. Slowly, his pulse came back under control and his body didn't feel quite so hot.

He nearly jumped when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He hadn't heard the door open and had no clue that Ruby had crossed the room to him. When he looked up, she looked concerned, but not necessarily for herself. It was more a sisterly, or friendly, kind of emotion.

"You okay, boss?"

Cupid nodded. "Yes. I just had to get a bit of air."

Ruby's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I can see why. She's quite a piece of work. I think even Camille would be tempted at that sight. You thinking about trying to hire her? A little extra cash on the side of her real job?"

There was a bit of worry behind the question. Cupid understood it perfectly. No matter how much she might like the girl, or admit her appeal, she would be afraid of her stealing all the best customers. If the Latino heroine did decide to dance, he had no doubt those fears would be confirmed.

"Don't worry." Cupid assured her. "She's not here for a job. Given the high profile nature of the PRA, I don't think even the most misogynistic handler would allow an agent to work at a place as controversial as this."

Ruby's relief was instant and obvious. She nodded and headed towards the stairs. Cupid watched, thankful for something familiar to further help ground him. She glanced back a couple of times and continued her offer to help his situation. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door of his office and opened it a crack.

"Yes sir, I understand......I will sir......Right away."

Cupid opened the door before her voice faded. He imagined that had been her report and could only assume that the young woman had confirmed what he already knew; that the dancer showed no signs of ability whatsoever. What her handler had asked of her, he didn't know but suspected he would find out soon enough.

Sparrow still sat in the comfortable armchair he had offered her. Now, she had her knees pulled up to her chest and her feet on the edge of the seat. Cupid found himself relieved that he was behind her or else the sight of her exposed crotch would have driven him nuts. Instead, the pose endeavored to suggest every bit of youth and inexperience he knew she possessed.

"Is everything okay?" Cupid didn't care. It was a platitude, nothing more. He knew, however, if he simply thrust his power at her and overwhelmed her with desire, he wouldn't get what he really wanted. He had to play confidant, if only just this once, if he wanted her to come back to him begging.

Sparrow jumped in her seat, as if she had just been caught off guard. Her head spun around to look at him over her shoulder. The look of mingled panic, confusion and disappointment was not what he wanted to see, but he knew he could work with it. He had worked through worse in his time without having to resort to his abilities.

Cupid crossed the office under the weight of that accusing stare. As he passed her, his hand dropped lightly to her back, by the nape of her neck, to trail across her shoulder where he lingered a moment before he passed too far away and let it drop. He spun and leaned back against his desk. He was more than a little relieved to see that her ankles crossed and kept her from inadvertently offering herself up on a platter before him.

Sparrow dropped her feet to the floor. Her knees pressed tightly together as they dropped to the edge of the seat, in firm denial of what he knew she must feel pulsing between her legs. Her hands folded in her lap in another subconscious defensive measure. She leaned forward slightly to ask her question.

"Is this a brothel?"

"No, my dear." Cupid smiled gently. "Of course, you might think I would say that to any authority figure but, remember, I know your organization's mandates. You have no authority in this case. True, you could go to the police if I told you it was but let's be honest, it would be your word against mine. In a trial we both know how a jury would lean in the case of a norm against a para."

Sparrow's eyes dropped; ashamed, he assumed, of her own status as a "freak". Just because she had been raised by an organization peopled with those with powers didn't mean they were more enlightened when it came to the abnormal. If anything, the PRA was even harsher on paras as a means to keep them under control despite the vast difference in personal power.

"So, you don't rent out rooms so that the patrons can...can..."

"Make love with the dancers?" Cupid finished for her. He was further enticed by the way she blushed. By the end of the evening, he would see her whole body so flush. "Yes, in fact, I do."

Sparrow's eyes snapped up to look at him, full of shock and confusion that he would admit it so openly. Rather than explain right away, he pushed himself off of the desk and closed the distance between them. He tried not to think of how close his standing position placed him in regards to her full lips but didn't mind if her gaze had wandered down to note how tight his slacks were.

Cupid placed a hand on her shoulder. It caused her to jump once more. Her gaze whipped back up to his, another blush fresh on her cheeks at being caught staring. Rather than acknowledge it, and cause her even more embarrassment, he gently guided her from the seat. In a bit of a daze, not to mention conditioned literally from birth to follow the authority of a norm, she allowed herself to be walked from the chair over to sit at the end of the soft couch against one wall of his office.

"You forget, my dear, that this whole establishment revolves around desire." He explained as he guided her and then positioned himself at the opposite end of the couch, facing her. "Lust is not something to be reviled. It is completely natural. Let's be honest, more often than not it is the foundation upon which love is built. Even when it isn't, love does not feel complete without a healthy dose to lend excitement."

"I wouldn't know." Sparrow mumbled as her hands began to fidget. Although Cupid smiled inwardly, outwardly he only allowed himself a hint of understanding pity.

"I do rent the rooms out, for those couples who find themselves overwhelmed by desire while here. Couples frequently come to the club together, only to become so enthralled that they find themselves too impatient to return home.

"And, yes, often a single patron will find him-, or her-, self needing a room for an assignation with one of my dancers." He continued, but quickly qualified himself. "I won't prevent lovers from offering or accepting gifts with each other, no matter how expensive, but it is no more a requirement than in any relationship. But the only time money changes hands around here is for the room itself or drinks at the bar."

"Or when stuffed in the dancer's g-strings?" It was wonderful to hear the slightly teasing tone from the young woman as she glanced awkwardly at the window that nearly covered the far wall. She was beginning to relax a little.

Cupid chuckled lightly. "Actually, we discourage that kind of thing. The patrons are expected to leave it on the edge of the stage. Actually putting it anywhere on their body is just asking for someone to go to far and grope one of the women. Or worse."

Very slightly, Cupid sent the first intentional brush against her with his powers. Once more, her hips instinctively clenched. She squirmed slightly in her seat. Rather than let her stew, he stood, stepped over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder again. As before, she automatically followed his guidance.

Initially, Cupid felt her relax, now that her position no longer added pressure to the building discomfort between her thighs. Her confusion mounted again when he led her over to the window. His hand slid from her shoulder to the small of her back. The gesture could be viewed as comforting but also worked on her subconscious as a barrier from escape.

"I understand it is not your own curiosity which makes you ask such questions. I have seen a man I have suspected is a PRA handler in the club. I'm certain he has been too concerned over appearances to inquire himself. Instead, you are expected to appear interested where none of this holds any appeal for you."

Cupid maintained the low level of influence throughout his speech. With his parting shot, however, he increased the effect. Even if the dancer on stage had been choreographed, instead of the improvisation that she and many of the other dancers used, he could not have asked for better timing.




The Villain Ch. 06



The extra pulse of desire came right when the dancer dropped to her knees and arched back with the big-tipping patron between her thighs, as they reached past the edge of the stage. The move was clearly intended to suggest he was the reason for her ecstatic collapse. From the gasp at Cupid's side, and the way the young heroine sucked her lower lip between her teeth, the display was not lost on her.

"Was there anything else you needed to speak to me about?"

Sparrow couldn't even respond with more than the tiniest shake of her head. Her attention was firmly fixed on the action on stage. Her breasts had begun to swell noticeably with each breath. While her head leaned toward what she thought was the cause of her growing desires, her back pressed firmly against the subconscious support of his hand.

It was this later signal that Cupid used to his advantage. The comforting support slid around to her side in a partial embrace. The moment his body pressed against hers, the pressure transferred from his arm to snuggle against his side. He kept his own face towards the window, but he leaned his head over so he could better whisper in her ear.

"Despite the social stigma, there is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying the sensuality of a dance."

Sparrow's head tilted away from Cupid. If not for her half-lidded eyes and shortened breath he might have thought it an instinct to shy away from him. As it was, he recognized the desire that now filled her, regardless of his own efforts, and knew she subconsciously bared her sensitive throat to him. He added to their contact by slowly rubbing his other hand up and down her arm.

Awkwardness overcame the young woman and she couldn't figure out what to do with her hands. She knew she could no longer keep her arms crossed beneath her breasts, as attractive as he found the way it propped and emphasized them. It was too defensive a gesture and somewhere, deep within her psyche, she had already opened herself fully to him.

Her hands continued to cross her body, but now one dropped to hold the hand rested on her waist and the other held her opposite elbow. Cupid stopped rubbing her arm and came to rest on her hand. After a moment, she followed his lead and their hands dropped to rest on her hip.

By now, his body sent out its signals without any need to focus on his part. He could allow himself to enjoy the way his body melded against hers as he slid from her side to pressed against her back. He'd have liked for his straining crotch to be nestled in the softness of her butt but he was too tall, and she too short, for that. Instead, he accepted the warmth of the way their tight-pressed bodies surrounded him.

"I've..." Sparrow started breathlessly. "I've never...before...I don't know..."

"Shhhhh." He whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "It's okay. I do know."

Cupid took her moan, and the way she sank back into his embrace, as encouragement to continue. Conscious of her lack of experience, he started slowly. His hands began to wander up and down her waist and hips. He relished the way her breathing deepened. He luxuriated in the softness that covered an undeniable layer of muscles; tough but vulnerable.

His height gave him a perfect vantage, as he looked down on her. Her eyes were closed and her head rested back against his chest. Her lush mouth lay open slightly in a mew as she began to lose herself in the simple sensations. The skin-tight costume hugged her breasts and held them both pert and separate; perfect mounds that begged to be enjoyed.

Sparrow tensed when she sensed his wandering hands were about to cross out of plutonic territory. This was to be the first test of her resolve. Cupid added a slight boost to the need he poured into her. Even with that, however, it was always possible her nerves, or any conditioning from her guardians at the PRA, would overpower her lust.

If she told him to stop, he would. There was no benefit for him to push the matter. If he tried, the least he would do was prove himself a criminal. Any scrutiny by the PRA, and they would most certainly investigate if one of their operatives was molested against her will, and he would prove to be even more. By their definitions, he already was technically a super-villain. He used his paranormal ability outside of the sanction of their precious organization.

"Oh God!"

His hands barely caressed the sides of her plush breasts and her body shuddered. He wondered vaguely if he had overdone it with her desire but decided not. He felt full and ready himself so he couldn't be blamed with how much of that spilled over into her. Besides, she likely had years of repression caused by a notable lack of social contact.

Cupid cupped the sides of her breasts a little harder with each pass. Whether or not she knew what to do, her body certainly did. Her hips began to sway back and forth, intent on enflaming that which already strained against the confines of its flesh. Her lack of height meant that her delicious ass didn't actually rub against anything but his thighs but that helped him keep his composure.

A hitch caught in her breath when he gave up the pretense of an innocent massage and slid his fingers beneath her breasts to cup and measure their perfection. His own lust pulsed in sympathy at the way her hips jerked forward out of rhythm. He treasured the feel of her as he firmly caressed from base to rounded tip.

Sparrow's breath shuddered in time with his ministrations. He hadn't realized how wound up she really was. His fingers reached the peak of her outthrust breasts and closed around the nipples that were so hard that the costume could not help but define them. A light pinch and tug sent her over the edge.

Cupid dropped an arm around her waist and supported her weight, even as her body collapsed into convulsions. Orgasm wracked her body and the feel of her loss of control, pressed against his trapped manhood, quickly unwound all of his plans for the evening. It was all he could do to keep from following her into ecstasy.

He had intended to draw things out and demonstrate every manner in which he could remove her inhibitions before he finally consented to enter her. Now, he barely felt he could wait a minute longer. He made a mental compromise between his Id and his plans to ensnare her as one of his regular lovers. She would need a bit more enticing before she found him irreplaceable but he could save most of what he had planned for another night. He decided a second night, where he surpassed himself, could only cement her bond to him. As excuses went, he found it eminently worthy.

Sparrow bucked and spasmed against his restraining arm. Every time he thought she might wane, he shifted tactics on her breast. His rough massage turned into the flick of his fingers across her nipple turned into circles traced around her areola only to dart in with another flick. When that began to wane he pinched her more firmly and rolled it between his fingers, betting that the slight addition of pain wouldn't scare her away this far into her climax.

After several unrelenting minutes, his free hand dropped back to rest on her waist. Instantly, her weight sagged against his arms as the last of her ecstatic energy purged itself through minute aftershocks. He noticed what sounded like a mantra, murmured over and over. The sound was dampened by her dark hair, as it hung around her drooped head, so he leaned closer to hear what she said.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so, soooo, sorry." Her words finally registered at the same time that he felt the first hot tear drip onto his arm. Unseen, Cupid couldn't help a triumphant, feral, grin. As incredulous as it would seem to anyone with experience, he knew the apology was directed at him.

Cupid quickly schooled his face to one of concern and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears. "Why the tears? What are you sorry for? You have done absolutely nothing wrong."

His apparent offer of clemency only spurred more tears, even as she tried to explain. "I...I just...I couldn't control...I tried to hold it in but..."

"My dear, why on Earth would you wish to do that?"

Sparrow tilted her head so that she could look up at him through the curtain of her hair. "It's not...I...you didn't..."

"Shhhhhh." Cupid whispered as he put a finger to her lips. "That's not wrong. A young woman should be brought such bliss over and over again. A man must worry about such things, as we need time to recuperate, and a gentleman will make certain, but you, my dear, can be shown many, many stages of Heaven."

"I don't..." She began. He was pleased to note that her tears had stopped, replaced with nothing more than nerves and uncertainty. "I don't know what to do."

Although Cupid's smile was gentle and understanding, inwardly he wanted to crow and grin like a madman. She had just given him her complete consent. His trap closed around her and all she could do is think herself lucky he brought such gentle skill to this unexpected encounter.

"All you need to do is to show me how to remove your remarkable garment. As flattering as it is on you, and as successful as I can be in spite of it, there are still things it will prevent between us."

She nodded. Her eyes were lit with gratitude and an innocent hope. Cupid practically fed on the combination. Her complete lack of experience was intoxicating. The knowledge that he could mold her into whatever kind of lover he wished made him feel as powerful as the god he had named himself after. But there was time for all that later.

Sparrow reached up, with both hands, and twisted the fabric at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, the fabric parted slightly. Cupid placed a kiss on the newly-exposed flesh and was rewarded by another shudder of approval and a quiet squeak of pleasure. From there, he drew her hands away and returned them to her stomach where she folded them.

It was harder than he expected to unpeel her outfit. While he had plenty of experience with spandex, and while this certainly resembled the skin-tight material, it was stiffer and more difficult to pull. Cupid remained undeterred.

He kept one hand around her waist. This not only gave her the confidence and comfort of his support, but also ensured she remained completely submissive to his will. He knew the subconscious effect remained strong when her hands lightly clutched his arm and pulled it tighter about herself.

The seam down her back opened easily once begun. He allowed the slightest bit of space between his back and her chest so that he could revel in the sight of her exposed flesh. Her silky smooth skin was revealed to the small of her back, barely above the cleft of her perfect ass. With only a slight adjustment, the soft curves of her shoulder blades lay bare before him.

After a moment to enjoy the virgin sight of her silken flesh, he leaned forward to place a kiss on the side of her neck. A slight adjustment and his lips discovered the sensitive skin that covered her jugular. Her legs squirmed with discomfort once more while she moaned in appreciation. When next his mouth fell upon the spot, his teeth dragged lightly over it. Her weight momentarily dropped fully into his embrace before she regained her composure.

His hand slid beneath the exposed edge of the material to cover her shoulder. As his lips plucked and tormented her neck, his fingers slid down the length of her arm, pushing the costume before them. While she remained fully entranced by his kisses, half of her torso opened for him. Her breast popped free of its encasement and proved how unnecessary the material was in defiance of gravity.

Rather than continue down, he slid his hand back up her exposed side. Once he reached the soft mound of her breast, he traced a line beneath it until he could place his palm in the center of her chest. His thumb playfully rubbed between her breasts, but otherwise he simply switched her weight from one arm to the other.

Sensing his intend, Sparrow shifted her hands from one wrist to the other after no more than a tiny tug of his arm. His mouth trailed up her neck and his breath teased her ear, even as his lips began to pluck and kiss her lobe. Her breath shortened further when his hand trailed down her other arm. Moments later her top lay completely bare, held up only by the cuffs at her wrists.

Cupid worked his lips back down her neck and to the tender junction where it met her shoulders. Meanwhile, his hands found hers. It took a little prodding, the heroine uncertain of her balance and strength to stand, but he managed to spread her hands until they hovered, lightly held by the tips of his fingers, just past each of her shoulders. Once certain they would remain, he slid the cuffs over her hands and allowed the top of the costume to drop and dangle from where it remained secure, clinging to her full hips.

Cupid walked his kisses across the shivering muscles of her shoulder. His hands returned to hers and he guided her arms out wide to her sides. When he dropped back from her, still holding her hands wide, she had to be aware how much like her namesake she resembled, wings open in flight.

Lost in the moment, Sparrow would never realize he had placed her on display. It would take quite a bit of, seemingly-pointless, effort for a patron to turn around and look up at the usually dark wall of his office window. Why bother when the action was on stage? Not so for the dancers, however.

On stage, CallyAnne glanced up with an approving grin and a playful wink. The girls of the club didn't mind when he added someone new to his growing harem. They seemed to consider it a kind of sisterhood, one that the uninitiated dancers had come to envy, even if they didn't know how to join. Besides, none of them had reason to complain. Thanks to his power he not only had the ability to satisfy so many but also the need.

He leaned forward and gave Sparrow a flamboyant kiss on her neck. He was rewarded not only with a shudder from the woman within his grasp but a stutter in the dance routine on stage. He suspected that this particular dancer would jump the schedule and corner him sometime later that night.

Carefully, Cupid began to lower his hands. When Sparrow's moved to follow, he returned them to their place. After a second attempt, she understood his will and he was able to bring his hands back to her body while she kept herself open before him. One hand wrapped around her to support her weight and cup her opposite breast. The other slid around her side to rest on her bare navel.

He trailed kisses around the back of her neck and sucked on the untouched side. Her moans of appreciation had become whimpers. Unfortunately for her, she was unaware of even her need, much less what her body demanded. All she could know was that the sensations within her had shifted from uplifting to heavy. The soft fluidity within her core hardened and began to push outward in a demand to release.

He kept a tight grip on her while his hand wandered discreetly down. This time, she had some inkling what was coming and let her body be goaded. Her groin began to twitch forward and back, desperate for the fingers that added a delicious pressure when they sank into her pliable flesh to slip beneath the edge of her dangling costume.

Soft fuzz greeted his hands. Experience told him she kept herself neatly trimmed and he found himself a little disappointed. Most of his girls shaved little shapes into their hair as very nearly trademarks. Sparrow was so young, so inexperienced, he had almost hoped she would be clean-shaven as befit her purity. He would probably mold her to the fashion he preferred.

Sparrow's breath quickened as his hand quested farther. He pressed his palm heavily against her pelvis while his fingers pushed deeper. Her body shook with anticipation as a single finger began to push through the hot folds of her flesh. He let loose a grunt of appreciation upon discovering his finger drowned by her readiness.

The first brush of her hidden nub sent Sparrow into convulsions. She giggled and sputtered as he traced slow circles. Tremors overtook her upraised arms until she threw them forward, her palms pressed against the cool glass, in an attempt to keep from tearing her own clothes apart determined to find her tormentor and stop the unbearable bliss that exploded out from her core.

Cupid leaned forward. Unable to support her own weight, she shifted with him until her body pressed against the glass wall. Her weight trapped his hand and added pressure. He pressed harder with each circle until his finger bore around the base of her tender clit. Her giggles turned to barks and gained strength. When she began to scream, he was glad he accepted the extra expense for the soundproof glass.

The look CallyAnne gave him was positively feral. Cupid almost wished he had a camera set up somewhere where he could view the effect from outside. He would have loved to have seen her perfect breasts crushed against the glass or the way her face contorted in pleasure while turned to one side and pressed flat. Most of all, he loved to see his women twitch and jerk with every slight shift of his fingers. The risk that such visuals, along with everything else that transpired in his office, fell into the wrong hands had always kept him from setting up such a device, however.

Sparrow's screams began to fade. Cupid stopped his fingers but slid his hand more fully between her legs. The way he cupped her lust helped to calm her while still preventing her from accidentally instigating fresh torment by rubbing against her tight costume. It also sent a subconscious message, to the inexperienced woman, of possession. By not resisting his casual grip, she programmed her own mind to accept it freely.

"Come." Cupid urged as he gently peeled her away from the glass. It was one thing to put her on display in the throws of masturbatory passion but another entirely to potentially expose himself to the view of the audience below. There was always the possibility that her handler would arrive at an inopportune moment and he would rather not that particular scrutiny.

Sparrow staggered around under his guidance and support. It was a little awkward, with one hand held between her legs to protect her from her own sensitivity and the other wrapped around her chest, but her expression was more than worth it. Half-lidded eyes and a delirious smile helped to cover the awkwardness.

The young woman had likely discovered self-pleasure in the years since she reached puberty. Cupid doubted, however, that she had ever worked herself into a state even close to the one she was currently in. He knew what the effect would be when he removed his protective hand from between her legs. Even minutes after the height of her orgasm had passed, he could still feel slight tremors wrack her body.

Poly-fiber-titanium closed in behind Cupid's retreating hand. A shiver began with her hips and radiated down her legs and up her torso when the fabric slid between her tender folds. Her head shot back when the seam of her costume hit the enflamed bud. The pressure his hand placed on the waistline, as he pulled free, caused the outfit to ride up and press cruelly against all of her overly-sensitive flesh.

Sparrow collapsed onto the couch whimpering in a mini-orgasm. Cupid guided her just enough to prevent her from missing the target furniture but otherwise allowed her to experience her helplessness.

"Should I help you remove these?" Cupid asked as innocently as he could manage.

"Please!" She squeaked.

Cupid knelt in front of the exhausted woman. His whole body thrummed with excitement. He could never have handled the full compliment of plans he had anticipated for the evening. He could barely control himself now enough to remove her outfit completely and gently. Every part of him insisted that he flip her over and slam himself into her over and over until the cushions smothered her face and muted her screams.




The Villain Ch. 06



Plenty of time for that in the future.

It took a little work to peel the stiff material off of her without causing too many aftershocks. Cupid didn't worry about the sticky mess that practically poured from between her legs without the tight outfit to hold it in. There would be plenty more by the time they were done. Besides, he expected a fair portion of it to be smeared across her back and the shower in his private bathroom would take care of that.

She wore no underwear. Cupid had felt that when he first slipped his hand beneath the fabric. Given the skin-tight nature of the outfit, even a thong would leave an impression for all to see. Besides, the material could offer more support than the best designed underwear ever produced.

Even knowing the truth did nothing to prepare him for the sight of her completely bare and half-sprawled on the couch before him. The tight costume left nothing to the imagination. And yet, somehow, even his deepest fantasies of this moment proved no more than a flicker compared to her brilliance.

Cupid's pulse raced. His fingers fumbled with his slacks, desperate to be divested of any clothes that prevented what was now inevitable. She moaned in response, too overwhelmed by the pleasure so far to form a more coherent reply. Her body echoed his burning need but lacked the strength to aid or deny him.

Finally, Cupid managed to work his pants open, despite the engorged obstruction. He unceremoniously kicked off his shoes when he realized they kept him from removing his clothing fully. He caught one of her legs as he climbed onto the couch and shifted her body to lay along the length. He hooked her heel on the back of the couch to spread her wide before him.

Cupid forced himself to drink in the sight. For more than a year he had dreamed of this moment. His plans had been slow to culminate but her mocha skin, and the dark triangle of fuzz that pointed directly at the glistening red heat that beckoned to him, made it more than worthwhile.

Even though she clearly lacked any strength, and her foot remained firmly hooked on the top edge of the couch, Cupid shifted his leg up until his thigh nestled behind her knee. With his body planted on the couch, her legs were now trapped open. One arm draped off the edge of the couch while the other trailed up to fold beneath her lolling head. If anyone saw her like this they would likely demand a test for drugs. The knowledge that he had brought that about simply through pleasure was as almost intoxicating as her bare and willing flesh.

Sparrow felt the change in atmosphere, likely through the added weight on the couch, and rolled her head weakly to stare down her own body at him. Dim eyes widened slightly at the sight of his naked lower half. A flicker of fear passed across her face but could not hold beneath the weight of knowledge he had already born upon her. After the moment passed, she bit her lower lip and her breath shortened in nervous anticipation.

Cupid leaned forward. His face dipped toward her chest. His mouth closed around one firm nipple and her breath hitched. His teeth cemented its placement and her voice began a wordless tone, as if her body literally hummed with the tension that rapidly built within her once more. The first flick of his tongue sent her head back into the cushion and her back arching. Her body thrust her breast towards him; eager for everything he could give her.

As much as he wanted to, he didn't plunge right in. Cupid knew he would need to soon, or else he would spill himself over her dark skin. Given her revelations, however, he needed her a bit more ready, if he wanted her to leave with nothing but the best memories. So his solid length found her folds but used them as a guide to rub across her clit.

She was so wet he barely felt her flesh as it parted smoothly beneath him. His hips beat against hers, familiarizing her with the sensation before she took the full measure of him. Her arched back quickly began to buck as her screams started anew.

That was what he needed.

In one fluid motion Cupid slid back and plunged inside her. Her muscles could not hold him, as well lubricated as she had become. A brief pressure blocked his path but proved an obstacle, not a barrier. Sparrow let out a yelp as he broke through but quickly lost the pain beneath the layers of pleasure he had built within her in stages.

It was glorious! Everything Cupid had imagined and more. He began to pump his hips, thrusting himself hard and fast in and out of her. Despite the evidence of her lust, likely mixed with blood from her broken flesh, she clung tightly to him. He filled every inch of her and pushed back against those tender walls. His tip brushed against the rear edge of her with every pounding attack.

Sparrow's nipple pulled from the light grip of Cupid's teeth as she began to buck and writhe. The grin that split his face spoke of feral triumph. His legs penned her in place for his rough thrusts. One hand pressed against her shoulder, pinned her down, while his other held her bent elbow against the back of the soft couch to open her upper body to him as fully as her lower was.

Cupid allowed his power full release and lust, desire, and need filled her overflowing senses and splashed over onto him. Fire burned through his nerves and lent his muscles greater urgency and strength. His hips crashed against hers; pounding him as deeply as his body could manage. His groin filled to unbearable pressure. Electricity ran beneath his very skin.

One last time, he threw his body forward. Cupid wasn't so much buried within her as entrapped by her. On the very edge of his own climax, he swelled to the very limits of his skin and stretched her well beyond their ability to smoothly glide across each other, regardless of the lubrication she produced.

Sparrow's barked screams, now shading to horse, held more than a hint of pain once more. Cupid was beyond caring. The furnace, the supernova star, that was her lust radiated its heat directly into him to ignite the volcano within him. All of the built up heat and pressure raced out of him and exploded inside her.

Instinct forced his hips to begin thrusting once more, despite his predicament. Flesh ground against flesh, unable to pull away. Cupid groaned and sighed, euphoric over the depths that he poured his essence into; untouched territory. He marked her, not only claimed by right of primacy but through psychology. She had submitted to him and would thank him for despoiling her and beg for anything he chose to do to her.

Cupid collapsed on top of her. It didn't matter that he weighed nearly twice as much as the young heroine or that his leg accidentally pushed hers nearly to the limit of articulation. She was a fire beneath him and a solid mass on which he could recover. As maddening as he had found the need to delay his own gratification, to draw her more fully under his control, it had been worth it. Even if he never again fucked her, that had been one of the most pristine orgasms he had ever experienced.

Even as Cupid began to get his breath back under control, he began to soften. Without the unrelenting pressure that had filled him, he could once more slide free of her. Now that he was a bit more in control of himself, he pushed off of her more gently to collapse against the opposite corner of the couch.

"How do you feel?" Cupid asked with a self-satisfied smirk. He doubted she could even form a thought, much less answer him. He was right. She mumbled something unintelligible. She had yet to move despite the opal essence that began to pour out of her and seep between those perfect cheeks.

"Ah. In that case, I shall take the first shift in the shower." Cupid continued. "You are, of course, free to join me. If you can find the energy and courage for much more of the same."

Truthfully, Cupid wasn't certain he had it in him for another round so soon after such an Earth-shattering finish. He could, of course, always use his power to revive himself, if she did manage to join him. He suspected that she would remain immobile on his couch well into the evening, however.

As for her courage, it didn't much matter. He knew from experience how addictive sequential multiple orgasms could be. Even the most repressed personality would eventually fight to find a reason not to return, rather than the other way around.

Besides, as helpless as she was now, he might even offer her to one of the more versatile dancers. There were one or two who enjoyed women, even one still spoiled by the remnants of a male lover. Cupid smiled to himself and nodded in confirmation. That would work well, especially since those dancers proved very grateful for the opportunity. Later, he knew, his seed would coat front and back of another woman.

Not a bad reward for a night's work. Cupid thought as he glanced out the window on his way to the shower.

Copyright January 2014, by Deathlynx



The Villain



Unfortunately, she had no power to mimic such signals even if there was such a device. If she had the strength, she could probably lift the door easily enough, since there didn't seem to be any form of lock other than the simple expedience of the massive weight of the door. That very weight, however, was it's own deterrent for any but the strongest agents.

Resonance took a few steps back. She gauged the material of the door and doubled the distance. The way that it snuggled tightly into the casing could cause small pieces to break off randomly. Although her ability usually broke objects down into particles too small to cause any real damage, shards were always a possibility.

Legs shoulder's width apart, one slightly behind the other in case of any blowback from pressure on the other side of the door. Arms extended in front of her. The heels of her hands touching and palms open towards her target.

Strictly speaking, her power worked without the pose but it looked good. Besides, it had taken her a while to train her ability to only activate with some semblance of the pose. It had been one of the first things they'd taught her at the PRA and it helped immensely in preventing unexpected flare-ups.

With very little concentration, she reached out and touched the metal with her powers. She could feel the slight vibration of the molecules. She couldn't name it in terms that scientists would recognize. They probably could explain her powers, but she wouldn't recognize their terms any more than they could comprehend her attempts to explain how it felt.

The door was very well crafted. Resonance could tell by the way that the whole thing began to shudder almost instantly. Had there been any faults or weaknesses in the metal she would have sensed it as a stutter in the harmony.

Metal was simple. Something about the ordered arrangement of its molecules made it a bit tougher to shake apart but when it finally gave it fell apart evenly. The extra distance proved completely pointless but with metal she could never be too safe. A single fault could cause a shard dangerous enough to slice her open.

Just to be sure, Resonance reached up and felt around her neck, mouth, and cheeks. Her mask was made of the same material as the suit and flared up high enough to block anything that might have hit the rest of her head. She'd already know if something had come at her eyes so she never bothered to check those small openings.

Confident she was unhurt, Resonance carefully stepped across the threshold. Another long corridor stretched out before her. Unlike the previous one, however, doors marked various rooms and halls that branched away from the one she was in.

Inside the building, she had to reign in her senses. The various walls and rooms made it much more difficult to map out in her head. All that inaccessible, open, air caused gaping voids that played upon her conscious mind and drove her to want to know what lay within it.

Eventually, Mary assured her, she'd learn to multitask. She would be able to compartmentalize the information until it afforded her a general map of the area without the distracting need for specifics. Unfortunately, she wasn't anywhere near that level of mental discipline yet.

Despite the focus, Resonance still found herself curious as to what lay behind the doors. She was acutely aware, however, that the contents could just as easily be traps as anything worthwhile. The man had meticulously brought down every hero that came his way. Undoubtedly some had fallen due to curiosity as much as through the evil man's design.

Straight ahead, the corridor ended with an elevator. She was loath to trust herself to a small box that could easily be used as a prison but she had yet to find any hint of stairs. Surely, if that had been a secret escape, there should have been some other way to approach it than to risk an elevator.

Resonance carefully extended her senses once more. With great difficulty, she managed to map out the rough size and shape of the various rooms and corridors around her. As she feared, none bore the distinctive incline of a stairwell. As far as she could discover, all four tunnels led into corridors that aimed directly at the elevator. There might have been a stairwell somewhere beyond her perception but she still couldn't move past the thought that it would have been all or nothing.

Even more surprising, however, was that the elevator only rose two floors. She knew perfectly well that the roof of the tunnel she entered through had been twenty feet below the surface. None of the floors since then had any noticeable degree of inclination so there should be two additional floors of basement above her. That meant the only exit from the level failed to even reach the ground floor!

Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it. If she wanted to reach the end of this maze, she had to go up. She palmed the button beside the door and glanced in when the room opened to her.

The small elevator was no wider or deeper than the width of the corridors that led into it. All four walls held a single door each that undoubtedly slid away in the same manner as the one before her had. Aside from the doors, it was unadorned save for a single pair of buttons on the left-hand wall marked with an up and a down arrow.

Cautious of a trap, Resonance stepped in and lightly touched the up button. She wished she could leave on her enhanced senses but she quickly turned them off. The vibration of the machinery would wreak utter havoc on her nerves and distort any possible information she could acquire.

It only took a moment to realize something was off. Rather than a standard elevator, only the floor began to move upward. If not for the shrinking of the doors she would never have noticed. Within a moment, too fast to react or even be afraid, the ceiling rushed down at her and she passed through the paltry illusion.

Resonance tried to steady herself as the platform picked up even more speed. The next floor flashed by in even less time than it took her to leave the first. Her mind managed a brief moment of insistence that her vibration sense, her sonar as it were, had confirmed a physical presence for the ceiling of the upper basement. This time, rather than an illusion, she saw the ceiling split apart and retreat before she reached it.

The lift stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Momentum launched her almost a foot in the air from the sudden halt. Instinct drove her into a roll the moment her feet touched the ground again. She didn't care which direction, just so long as it was away from the treacherous section of floor.

Resonance came out of her roll in a crouch and looked around. If "Villainy Inc." was intended as a mockery of the PRA, then the room was a parody of every child's concept of an evil lair. Large banks of flashing lights and obscure buttons blinked from every wall. Strange machines, whose designs ranged from steampunk to ultra-modern, stood in every spare nook and cranny of the remaining wall space.

The center of the large room remained completely bare.

There were no doors along any of the walls. If Resonance was forced to guess, this room took up almost the entirety of the large building that she'd seen from without. By the way the ceiling soared above her, there might be enough room for a single floor before the roof. If there was, she'd be hard pressed to figure out how to reach it short of flying. Even then, there were no discernable entrances.

The room, the very building, was one gigantic trap.

It was fortunate that she had the foresight to drop into her meditative breathing and reactivate her extra senses the moment she came to a halt. She felt the subtle vibrations in the air and barely managed to dodge out of the way of the disk that dove at her. It shattered the moment it hit the floor but she barely noticed as another launched.

It took only an instant for her reflexes to kick in. Her hand came up, aimed at the newest threat. The vibration of the air linked her to the projectile. She only had time to shatter a portion of the weapon but it was more than enough to throw it off its course and harmlessly aside.

Two more launched quickly on its heels.

For the next minute, her life became a constant blur of motion as disks began to launch from every angle. Sometimes only a single attack came at a time while others up to three were sprung. She swiveled and spun. Her universe became a frantic dance of dodging and destroying the frustrating disks.

One managed to get through to clip her shoulder. It stung, slightly, but otherwise left no lingering trace of its impact. It snuck in, launched a fraction of a second after two consecutive barrages of two disks each. After, she made certain not to concentrate as heavily on each attack in favor of just enough damage to knock them off target.

Resonance almost failed to notice the change in tactics as the last volley crashed from the air. Her senses told her nothing else flew at her and she almost missed the subtle rumble of a much slower-moving object rolling along the ground in her direction.

She spun and tried to focus her powers on a dark gray sphere about the size of a soccer ball. The combination of its motion and the connection with the floor must have thrown off her concentration enough that she could not connect with the resonance within the ball itself. As hard as she tried, she simply couldn't feel the vibrations.

At the last moment, Resonance jumped away from the balls path. She didn't worry if she looked foolish diving away from the relatively slow-moving object. It was certainly more than it appeared. The flash of light and minor concussive force that followed not only proved her point but threw off her concentration.

This time, it took Resonance a bit longer to stagger to her feet. Her body needed to shake off the effects of the blast and she'd need longer still before she could focus enough to bring back her other sense. She spun around, in search of the next attack but found only the scattered remains of dozens of the clay pigeons that had been hurled at her.

Suddenly, with no immediate threat to occupy her thoughts, she realized how silly she had been to react to them as she had. They stung, certainly, but couldn't cause much real damage. Given the material of her costume, she probably wouldn't even have a bruise from the one that hit her shoulder. Her temples and virtually every other major pressure point were well protected so she didn't even need to worry that they might knock her unconscious.

Why would the villain have tossed them at her one after another? Sure, they were cheap and easy to make. Given the relative lack of craftsmanship that had gone into them, he might even have bought the materials at a craft store and fashioned them himself. But they were utterly ineffective against the armor that PRA agents were given.

In the midst of her brief pondering, a panel opened in the front of one of the large banks of blinking lights and buttons. Silhouetted by light from the small space, a man stepped out. Slightly above average height, a little overweight, a scraggly blond beard, he could have lost himself in virtually any crowd.

Another quick glance around the room not only told her that the man was alone in his approach but confirmed the sudden realization that quite a few of the mysterious banks of supposed computers could actually have hidden an entrance to another level of the complex. He could live on the possible top floor or just as equally deep beneath the structure with a dedicated lift and additional escape paths.

This was her chance. Resonance took two steps towards him, intent on attack, when she was brought up short. It didn't take long for her training to kick in and realize that he must have erected a force field around her. Even if she had access to her senses, she wouldn't have been able to sense the strange energy. The best she could have hoped for would be to define her prison.

Even that didn't bother Resonance overly much. Her own destructive ability had yet to find anything she couldn't punch through. Even the strongest force fields the PRA could erect fell instantly to her strange power.

Rather than try to focus on the object she wanted to disrupt, Resonance simply allowed the effect to disburse in the general direction she wanted to escape. It drastically weakened the strength of her attack, but energy tended to be very sensitive to changes in wavelength. She didn't even try a cautious hand. She simply ran through the space created by her blast.

The man didn't react as she expected. He should have panicked. Maybe she thought he would scramble to bring up another trap, or launch another attack. Instead, he simply nodded. As if he had expected that she field wouldn't hold her.

The discovery brought Resonance up short. Confidence she would have been able to deal with. Most villains, it seemed, thought of themselves as nearly invincible. They were arrogant. This was different. It wasn't cold so much as simply emotionless. Calculating.

The focus was a mistake. Even with access to her other sense, she probably wouldn't have noticed the creeping mounds that rose out of the floor. The first indication she had of them was when they shifted like some primordial ooze and encased her feet past her ankles.

Everything happened so quickly it was difficult, later, for Resonance to remember the order in which it happened.

Instinctively, her arms dropped and her hands flew open to focus on the rapidly thickening material. Her concentration wavered and she couldn't seem to find the resonance of the dark gray substance. Similar blobs launched themselves from the floor and encased each hand. Cables that connected the new manacles to the floor quickly retreated to the far walls and yanked her arms wide.

When the moment cleared, Resonance found herself with her feet firmly planted to the floor and her arms raised to her sides above her shoulders. The only benefit of the pause was that it afforded her time to concentrate on her powers. She could dissolve each of the bands on her hands and then free her feet.

Unfortunately, even with complete concentration, she couldn't seem to discover the proper resonance in the material!

"Are you aware, my young heroine, that your remarkable powers are based on the properties of sound?"

Suddenly afraid, Resonance looked meekly up. The man's deep baritone voice could have sent thrills of excitement through her if the two had met under different circumstances. Even as his captive, however temporary she intended that state to be, a rebellious part of her mind wished she could hear him speak with full access to her enhanced senses.

"The thing about your organization is that they've stopped truly studying the abilities of their agents. Of course, that's not really what they're about, though, is it? They're about control. They don't care about why Paras are the way they are, they just want..." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "But I digress."

The man began to slowly circle his captive from a fairly safe distance of ten feet. The caution might have seemed absurd to most people, given that she was completely bound, but she knew he would try not to underestimate a Para. Given how many he had defeated, his caution served its purpose.

Resonance needed him to let his guard down. There was no other way that she could possibly win. Although now afraid, she still favored her chances against him. He might think he had her, but she still had a trick up her sleeve. If only she could get him close enough that it wouldn't be wasted.

"Your powers," his voice drifted over her shoulder, "are sonic in nature. You set up some kind of resonance within objects that cause them to shake apart. Incidentally, the material around your hands and feat is a sound absorbing material. You won't be able to break them like that. I would guess they probably call you something like Wailer, or Mockingbird, or even Sonica?"

Apparently, he didn't seem to have much respect for the PRA naming scheme. "Resonance." She answered simply as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

The man stopped. His head cocked to one side in thought. It almost looked like surprise mingled with respect. When he spoke again, his tone matched the expression. "Do they? You're one of the lucky ones. Must have a good handler."

He crossed his arms and brought a single finger up to tap against his chin as he temporized. "Female, obviously. With a body like yours any red-blooded male would have put you in something far skimpier. Gale Liberty, maybe?"

Resonance allowed her shoulders to slump, immensely grateful that the restraints and position allowed her the relief. She had to make herself look as defeated as possible. Her handler, with only her cover alias, would be easy enough to confirm. It was public knowledge. "Mary Heart."

The man continued to circle, now slightly in front of her but still off to one side. He nodded once, again. "You are lucky. She's one of the most dedicated to her charges. Of course, she's young so the future remains to be seen."

His pacing finally stopped in front of her once more. This time, when he looked her up and down, the purely unemotional, calculating, expression had been replaced by one that helped her fully believe the charges the women spoke of. He seemed to drink in her every curve with a heat that unnerved her.

At the same time, that much interest from a man also left her mildly excited. It was a compliment, in its own crude fashion. She tried to shake off the feeling, however, and explain it away as an aftereffect of the method in which she had come to think of her current folly. Thought of him as her target had come while she masturbated, so they concepts would be at least mildly linked in her mind.

When the man resumed walking, she noticed that his pace wasn't nearly as sure and steady as it had been. A bulge had grown firm and strong beneath the bland gray slacks he wore. Whether it actually affected his gate or remained nothing more than a symbol of the real cause of his distraction didn't matter. What mattered was that he now paced slightly closer than the original ten feet. If he kept up the spiral, eventually he would be in range.

"Have you read my file? I suspect you haven't. I don't remember the last time they officially sent someone after me. While I'm wanted desperately, they know what will happen. Besides, if they had sent you, I suspect they'd have given you a much skimpier outfit in the hopes it would distract me enough to win the day. Maybe even just a thong and a couple of pasties."

There was a decidedly lascivious glint to his eye as he pondered the concept that made Resonance blush from head to foot beneath her unrevealing costume. She knew the PRA wasn't against such tactics. There were plenty enough men, Paras and norms alike, who would fall for it and almost as many women agents willing to flaunt themselves for just such an edge.

"Regardless of how wonderfully such attire would accent your beauty, I digress once more. The point is, you don't know what it is that I'm wanted for. In truth, I set up this place as something of a lure. I then put out rumors that I had begun to collect Para DNA for experiments.

"Of course, the first who visited were police. Predictably, with their flimsy warrants. I sent them away, of course. It took a few more months, and some equally flimsy forged evidence put into the right hands, before they came back with a legitimate warrant.

"Being the law abiding man that I am, I let them in and allowed them to search the entire place. There was nothing to find, so they left empty-handed."

Resonance couldn't help but scoff. "Law abiding? You assaulted and humiliated dozens of male agents of the PRA! You've raped dozens more of our women! Those aren't the actions of a 'law abiding' citizen!"




The Villain



The man waved his hand as if her accusations were nothing. Through his pacing, he'd already cut the distance between them in half. It wouldn't take much longer before he was in range for what she planned.

"You skip ahead in the tale. Granted, so did I. You see, originally, I wanted to be a part of the PRA. I actually proposed a facility such as this as a testing ground for new agents. Even more experienced ones would be able to work through problems they might encounter in the field.

"Except, of course, I was denied. I never did find out what grounds on which they refused me. Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. All of the handlers I've ever encountered are damned presentable in front of a camera, after all."

"Did you think, perhaps, they realized you were unstable?" Once more, her own voice got the better of her.

The man's laughter actually reached his eyes. "Actually, they didn't even allow me the courtesy of reaching the psych eval stage. Interestingly enough, however, less than a year later the main training facility just outside of Washington opened up. And I'm sure you know after that."

She did know. The facility had been an experiment. When it proved mildly successful they built one on each continent in order to allow agents access. Some of the tougher criminals had been brought down because an agent used one to train extensively against his or her specific abilities and tactics.

"So, I came out here and set this place up. The truth is, the facilities they built are merely a shadow of what they could be. They grasped the basic concept, certainly enough, but they failed to get the subtler nuances and staff them with the right people."

"People like you, I suppose?"

He nodded. "Actually, yes. I think my record speaks for itself in that regard. Even with the facilities, they have consistently failed to craft an agent that can match me. Not very humble to say so, but it's the truth."

There! He was finally close enough. Just out of arm's reach and in front of her. It was time to call upon her final ability. "Just like any other villain. You talk too much!"

The resonance frequency of molecules could be used for more than their destruction. If she could determine the frequencies of an object, she could vibrate her own body. The effect would be that the two could pass harmlessly through each other. It wasn't very effective for more than defense, most of the time, but it also ensured that little traps like these couldn't hold her.

Even more importantly, the effect wasn't sonic in nature! As the man talked and circled around her, Resonance carefully calmed herself and began to test the strange bulk that held her hands. She managed to find the frequency easily enough and even curl one of her cramped fingers.

Now, her whole hand passed effortlessly through the strange glove. Resonance leaned her body forward and lunged for the man. Three limbs remained within the stuff, but all she needed was to grab him in order to threaten her disruptive attack.

For a moment, Resonance thought she'd made a rookie mistake and forgotten to bring her hand back into phase. Her fingers curled on air rather than the simple clothing. The hologram flickered for a moment and then faded, no longer a potent distraction.

Committed to the attempt, her body doubled over diagonally, secured by her left arm and right foot. After a moment to take a deep breath, she quickly focused on her entire body and began to vibrate to shift out of all of her bonds.

Nothing happened.

Still doubled over, Resonance's head whipped up to glare accusingly at the arm that failed to win free. After another moment of incomprehension, she scrambled to pull herself up and began to tug at the material with her free hand. The strange binding felt like a strange mixture of rubber and rock, now that she had time to truly focus on it.

Resonance continued to tug and pry at it but found herself weakening quickly. Her posture was incredibly awkward and she had no leverage. All it managed to do was sap her strength. Conscious of the need to think clearly, she stopped and dropped into a meditation. Unfortunately, none of her abilities seemed willing to come to her aid.

This time, when she slumped over, it was in genuine defeat and no little fear. She didn't even flinch when another blob shot from the floor to encase the hand that hung limp by her side. Moments later her arms were spread wide once more.

"Very good," said the man's voice from nowhere and everywhere at once. "You'd be surprised how few of you lot actually think to hold something in reserve like that. Unfortunately, I now know that you have nothing left."

"How?" Resonance whispered, her head hung mournfully before her.

"How did I counter it, or how do I know you have nothing left?"

"Either. Both?" She could hear the defeat in her own voice. That might have been answer enough to the latter question, but she knew that people could fake even that. He knew she had nothing left, not just suspected. Of that she was certain.

"Very good once more!" The very same panel that opened previously, allowed the man to enter. Of course, it could simply have been another hologram. She couldn't be sure of anything in that place anymore.

"You know, you're the first person to actually ask how I defeated them? Your brother and sister agents frequently feign confidence and arrogance when they're truly defeated. Occasionally they begin to beg. None of them, however, have been curious about the how, merely what would come next.

"To answer your question, sonic resonance works just as well on you as it does on everything else. When you vibrate your body to pass through the bonds, it is a simple matter to use sound to counteract the effect. Destructive harmonic resonance rather than constructive."

She actually understood what he was talking about. Matching the frequency of a vibration, or wave form, allowed her to set up the destructive attacks. Ironically, it was called constructive resonance because the two frequencies added together to create a bigger vibration. Destructive resonance meant that he had found the frequency that exactly nullified her own. Knowing her frequencies, he could easily negate any attempt she could make to escape.

"As for the other question, the common one, I know you're not an Oscar quality actress because your body tells me so."

The man stepped up in front of her. With her head down, she could see that it was either the same exact hologram, or he'd simply modeled it live as he operated it. The same gray slacks and simple button-up shirt stood only feet away.

Except that it wasn't a hologram. Resonance saw his hand lift and watched as it caught a stray lock of dirty blond hair that had escaped her ponytail and gently tucked it behind her ear. The light touch sent a jolt of terror through her that elicited a whimper she couldn't hold back.

"Dear gods, you really are young, aren't you?" There was surprise in his voice. She thought she even heard genuine compassion but she couldn't bring herself to even hope she wasn't delusional. "This is your first mission out, isn't it?"

Resonance nodded meekly. She felt the slight sting of moisture begin to pool at the corners of her eyes and refused to look up. She wouldn't give him that much satisfaction. He could do what he wanted with her, she couldn't stop him, but she wouldn't let him see her defeat.

"You weren't even sanctioned, were you. They passed you through but failed to give you a mission so you thought to make your own. You wanted to make a name for yourself as the one who finally defeated me." Although phrased as questions, his tone was far more musing. She still thought she heard that damned compassion though.

He began to circle her once more. She couldn't watch. She didn't want to see anymore. She didn't want to be there. She'd thought, just because she was something different, even among the Para-ridden PRA, she stood a chance against someone that even the experienced agents couldn't handle and she was wrong!

"Interesting costume."

Resonance flinched at the light quip. His voice couldn't have come from more than a couple of inches behind her. Her entire body was tense. She knew what was going to happen and couldn't do the slightest thing about it. Now that she knew how close he was, her entire back seized up in fright.

"I would guess seventh gen polymer-fiber-titanium? It has never surprised me that they put so much effort into research for things like that. They don't particularly care to study the phenomenon they represent, but are more than willing to find ways for norms to resist it."

As he clucked his disapproval, he circled back in front of her. She was surprised by how far he actually was from her. She could have sworn he had spoken from only an inch or two away from her ear but he was a good couple of feet away. Even in the corner of her eye, as he crossed around, he'd been that distant.

"I have to say, though, I didn't realize they could do such intriguing things with the color though. I probably should, they can make it practically invisible, after all. What's a little liquid shimmer compared to that? I like the purple-tinged gray, especially."

Strangely, the comment broke through her tension slightly. Purple-tinged gray? She'd seen the outfit in quite a variety of lighting and it never looked even remotely purple to her. A little blue, possibly, but never purple!

"The thing is, their lack of research is a bit of a blind spot. They have ensured you're protected from all of the standard attacks you might face, but they neglect unconventional ones. For example, Amberlight's ray can be negated by a particular charged photon. There are other, industrial, applications for the beam itself. Which I happened to have patented."

Resonance's head flew up with a gasp and tossed around so she could look over her shoulder. A strange looking device had rolled up behind her while he spoke. The beam that it emitted was barely visible, almost like a laser, yet she could not doubt its existence. She could feel where it struck, at the top of her back, nearly at the nape of her neck and between her shoulder blades.

The only thing she could equate the sensation to was a small amount of electricity. Her skin seemed to tingle with a slight numbness. The fact that it could pierce the suit, however, was the most disturbing thing. All at once, she suspected the answer to how he could manage to strip down all of those women without fear of retaliation.

"Yes." The man seemed to answer her thoughts. "It destabilizes the bonds that form the material. It only works on a very localized area, almost molecular, so it couldn't be utilized in the field to render the armor useless and there's no way to widen the beam.

"What it does, however, is effectively dissolve a miniscule amount of the material. That makes it fairly effective for cutting. With this, they wouldn't have to form each piece of an agent's outfit as a single unit. They could actually cut it like the fabric it should be.

"While it also works on some other materials, for which it has been brought into industrial purposes, it has a very special property for which most of my clients pay handsomely. It will not cut through living matter. I won't go into specifics, since then you might actually convince your organization to do a little research and find a way to counteract it, but the energy bleeds harmlessly away through the nerves."

Resonance gasped again. She tried to shut her eyes in order to block out the sensation but it didn't do any good. It wasn't painful. If anything, she realized, it felt good. Too good! Her back arched forward and back, slightly, as her body tried at once to escape and seek out the sensation.

With her eyes closed, she could still hear his footsteps as he circled around behind her once more. Suddenly, the sensation dulled slightly but only because it began to move. If left in the same place it would spread outward as her body tried to process it.

Her breaths came in ragged pants as she tried to bring herself back under control. The beam tracked left along her shoulder blade. Her muscles leapt and tensed beneath it as if it were a feather torturously dragged across her bare flesh.

Her blood began to pump. An unaccountable pressure began to form deep within her, well away from the touch of the beam. Desperate for some answer, she blamed it on the manner in which she'd come to be inspired to seek him out. Surely she wouldn't find this erotic if not for a little subconscious connection!

Relief couldn't have come soon enough. Finally, the beam reached her imprisoned hand and shut down. Presumably, it could have continued to cut and accidentally freed her. Instead, she felt the material of her costume sag slightly along the incision he'd made from the center of her back to her wrist.

"Intriguing device, isn't it? Of course, it couldn't have been used on Amberlight if it would harm her. I'm meticulous about that, you see. Despite the lies they spout to cover their shame, even the men leave here unharmed."

"Unharmed?" Resonance managed between gasps as she tried to get her breathing back under control. "What about all the women? How can you say you haven't harmed them? That you won't harm me!"

The beam reactivated, once more at the center of her back. A mewl of what she denied to be pleasure escaped her as it hit the area already made tender by the energy's soft caress. Even knowing that the beam would drift almost lazily up her right arm, there was no way of steeling herself for it.

"Have I harmed you? Bound certainly, stunned and nullified your abilities, but are you in pain? Even so much as a cramp from the position. If so, please let me know and I will immediately stop everything in order to alleviate the problem."

Resonance hated the sincerity that she heard in his voice. It was the type of answer that should be just another one of his traps. As if he were a genie to twist her words and destroy her with her own wish. Except she knew that no one had ever died facing this man.

The beam reached her other wrist and the material now sagged more heavily across the space of her back. The sleeves hung limp and empty at her shoulders. Although she couldn't see, her outfit probably resembled a very high-cut, backless, dress.

The cool air felt like a balm to her overwrought nerves. The longer the beam remained on her, the hotter her blood seemed to flow. She wondered if it was possible that there would be an unanticipated side effect of exposure that would cause her blood to boil away. That would certainly be the end to his supposed streak of uninjured captives.

He didn't allow her body time to calm before the beam switched back on, at almost exactly the same point it had begun both of the previous times. She moaned, finally unable to deny the intensely sensual touch of the energy. The sound extended and drifted onward as the beam began to glide down her body; an electric knuckle gently rubbed down her spine.

It didn't matter that the back of her costume peeled open like a zipper drawn down the back. The soft, cool, air only enflamed the areas that had been caressed by the beam. Her nipples hardened, still safely beneath the specious protection of her costume. The pressure between her legs had begun to grow to unbearable levels and leaked free too slowly.

The beam reached the end of her spine. Her body arched and thrust her chest forward. Her moan transformed into a scream of frustrated pleasure. She knew, instinctively, what would happen when it reached the soft, nerve-filled, flesh only inches away. The sensations built to a point where her body demanded it, yet he slowed the progress to an infuriating crawl.

Or, at least, that's what it seemed. A small, belligerent, part of her mind insisted that it wasn't his speed that altered but her own perception of it. The more of her body the beam crossed, the closer she got. The greater the need, the less patient she became.

Finally, blessedly, white light shattered across her closed eyes. Resonance screamed in delight. Her body alternately bucked and sagged against the restraints. Her own traitor mind was glad for them. The power of the explosion within her was great enough that she could easily have hurt herself in her writhing.

Too soon and an eternity later, the beam shut off. She slumped within the restraints, unable to even hold herself upright. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her muscles continued to twitch and her nerves fluttered beneath her skin.

It hadn't been enough. Much of the pressure within had spent itself in the explosion but not enough. If anything, she felt even more frustrated now. It was the kind of climax that could spend itself over and over and never truly leave her satisfied.

And the beam had only brushed between the soft globes of her butt. She trembled in a mixture of terror and anticipation what he could do if he brought the machine fully between her legs.

"Let me guess," Resonance growled in a show of false bravado, "you're going to try to claim you never touch any of them until they beg you for it? I have news for you, using that beam accounts as a form of assault."

"Actually, it doesn't." He countered simply as he circled around her once more.

The machine rolled silently along with him. At the sight of it, her body tensed. She knew what he intended and damned herself because her body, at least, was desperate for more. Her mind fought valiantly in an effort to deny it but she knew her eyes lit up as he positioned it only inches away.

"You see, my lawyer very subtly arranged for a lawsuit, when a factory worker decided to use one of these as part of a prank on a fellow worker. In the end, I think the judge acknowledged the damaged clothing as vandalism or destruction of private property but only as a misdemeanor. In the end it went to small claims court to settle the damages."

"What're you going to do now?" She hated the hint of anticipation that crept into her voice. She wanted to sound resolute and defiant but part of her had discovered it reveled in her helplessness.

"Do you really want to know?" He sounded sincere, damn him! "If you do I will answer. But if not, and dreading the outcome will cause mental anguish, I won't. I told you. If there's anything that brings you pain, just let me know."

"Tell me." It slipped out before she could even consider them. She knew that it confirmed to him how she felt and hated the words. Still, there was too much thrill in knowing.

"I am going to cut away the rest of your costume. Eventually, you will be let go to wander home, naked of course." He said evenly and watched for her response. Her body flinched but when she didn't quail, he continued.

"I have to start here." His finger pointed just beneath her armpit, at the draped fabric of her sleeve. Although only his finger, and at least an inch away from her flesh, she could almost feel the beam already and shivered in delight.

"From there, I will cut a line up to your neck. And then on the other side." He slowly motioned around and above the curve of her breast. She imagined the ponderous progress of the beam in the slow indication of his finger.

Her breasts began to ache in lament. He had completely avoided the soft swells as he drew his imaginary lines. It was almost as if they felt neglected. Her modesty was more than glad, however, that the durable material of her costume failed to resemble spandex when her nipples hardened fully and weren't revealed through the seemingly thin fabric.

"What? You're not going to cut straight across to see my tits?"

Resonance was horrified as the words spilled out of her mouth. For a moment, he seemed shocked by her audacity but it quickly faded. Beneath, she saw he understood the root of her frustration. Her entire body flushed as her blood turned to lava and her breath stopped at the glint in his eyes.




The Villain



Instead of an answer, his finger landed on her collar. "From there, there will only need to be one last incision. Down."

The lone finger, light as a feather, glided downward. He meticulously avoided any contact with her breasts as he dipped lower which only caused them to throb harder. He glided away from her when he reached her navel and the lack produced a whimper of desperation.

It was worse, much worse, to be able to see the machine brought to bear. From the silence as he manipulated the arm that held the beam, she knew it could move much more freely but he slowly moved it into position with an agonizing precision. She couldn't see whatever he'd done to turn it on, but she knew the moment the beam made contact.

Resonance had considered the effect when it hit her breasts, or much lower on her body. Those were the obvious erogenous zones. Mentally, she'd prepared herself for the ecstasy he'd cause when he invariably struck those. She'd forgotten, however, how incredibly sensitive the pits of her arms could be.

Every bit of pressure she thought she had expelled with her first climax returned in an instant! Worse still, although incredible, it wasn't quite the right kind of sensation to send her over the edge. She now understood why he would likely avoid her breasts entirely. In order to cut from both sides, he would throw her into multiple orgasms if he tried to cross a truly sexual area.

As it was, she wasn't certain she wouldn't go mad from her inability to relieve the overpowering sensations. The kind of release that would be brought about if he hit too much, too quickly, could very easily drag her into unconsciousness. Neither of them wanted that. They both wanted her to know, for a certainty, what he'd done to her so there could be no suspicion afterwards.

He hadn't even begun the downward, final, cut and her body already quivered helplessly. Constant whimpers and moans escaped unbidden. She hung, limp, from the manacles and didn't care. She couldn't find the strength to lift herself. It was stolen every moment that the beam crept across her flesh.

"If you would rather, I think there's now enough freedom that I could actually peel the rest off without using the beam. Though I hesitate in case it would hurt. I've never worn one of these before and don't know if they cling." There was a hint of mockery in his voice.

Carefully, he reached up and plucked at the tab of fabric that folded down at her throat. He tugged only slightly but it caused the cupped material around her breasts, literally skin-tight and infinitely supportive under normal circumstances, to squeeze. If they had felt neglected before, they screamed for attention now.

"No." It was barely a whisper. For a moment, even she couldn't be sure what she meant by the single word answer. It wasn't until she found the breath to answer that she found clarity, even as he did. "It's too tight. Don't peel it."

Resonance felt like a prisoner in her own body. If some psychic villain had done this to her, she wouldn't have felt as ashamed and embarrassed. The problem was that it was her own body. Her own instincts! Sure, he knew how to play it, but she couldn't deny how much she wanted everything.

The knowing smile he returned answered her and promised everything she left unstated.

As the beam began its torturously slow decent the corners peeled aside, dragged by their own weight. Resonance didn't notice. Her entire world narrowed to the thrum of hot blood through her veins, the incessant prickle of her skin and the overwhelming pressure that demanded escape from her loins. Even the wisp of cool air across her nipples, when the beam finally cut low enough to free them from imprisonment, barely registered.

Where moments before she had no energy to lift her body, now it writhed. Her back arched forward then back, towards and against the beam. Her hips ground against air, desperate for anything to stimulate her that last little bit. Her head felt light as a feather due to hyperventilation.

If his indication had stopped at her navel, the progress of the beam didn't. Moans and gasps turned into screams. Flesh shaved smooth was revealed and her body shook. The outer edge of the beam's effect began to tickle the most sensitive areas. Even if he left the beam where it was, she knew she was only moments away. Even if he turned off the beam entirely, she could feel how the now loose costume would rub against her as her hips thrust forward and back.

He didn't stop. "Oh, God!" He didn't stop! Her narrow world exploded outward into infinity. Through closed eyes it was as if she could see the very light of the sun. Its heat burned against her flesh and turned her blood into molten lava. Gravity itself compressed against her skull but she escaped and flew among the clouds.

All too quickly it ended, when the beam shut off.

Resonance slumped against her cords. Tears crept from her eyes. She was too spent to even understand them. Or, more likely, there was too much conflict behind them to fully understand. She was embarrassed by how easily she had succumbed. She thrilled in the sheer heights or orgasm he'd caused. She felt free for the first time in her life, even as her body remained trapped by the blobs of material that ignored her powers.

One thing she did understand, one damnable thing. As unbelievable as the orgasm had been, it hadn't been enough. As with the first time, some of the pressure, some of the need, had bled off but it left far too much to bear. Her body hummed with it. She'd never be able to manage to get back to headquarters in that state, particularly naked.

And she was naked now. The legs of her suit still clung to her but the rest had fallen away. There was no doubt he would leave her without it when he threw her from the trap of a building. Given the state of her body, she would be lucky to drag herself to her feet. It would be impossible to resist when he stripped the last of her clothes from her.

"Please." She knew what she needed. He knew what she needed and had known that she would from the start. He had said he would do nothing to hurt her. He had known what she would need him to do in order to prevent that. He looked forward to it, as the bulge in his pants fully attested to.

"Please, what?" He asked in a low coarse voice. The sound sent a shiver through her. The sound alone could have dominated her, even without the bindings that held her body.

Damn him. He was going to make her say it. He had said as much already, but she'd thought herself stronger. Now she had to accept her failure. "Goddammit! Fuck me you bastard! Cum inside me, I don't care. Just FUCK me!"

He moved back a step, pulling the machine with him. She wondered if he'd take her from the front or back. Would he make her watch him as he filled her or would he mount her like the animal she felt she was? The shudder of her body reminded her that in the end it didn't matter. She needed the release.

She couldn't figure out if he really was impressively endowed or if her sense of proportion was skewed by the strength of her need. Even that didn't matter. If he was only average, he was still big enough that she'd feel him inside her. Her overwrought nerves and quivering muscles would do the rest anyway.

Her own posture dictated how he would take her. As the strength left her, she'd slumped forward. To shift herself so that her hips lay open in front of her would require coordination and energy she didn't have. If he wanted access, he'd have to move around behind her.

His hand rested against her stomach as he stepped up to her. It was gentle and soft. For some reason, she'd thought it would be calloused and rough. Her back arched slightly at the touch. Instinct drove her to press her naked flesh against his, even if it wasn't the flesh she needed.

He ducked under her arm and slid around. His hip brushed against hers, skin against skin. She whimpered. He wasn't moving too slowly it just felt like he was. Every second that crept by, unfulfilled, was another eternity of agonized waiting.

When he got into position, she felt the long, solid, silken caress of his manhood against her ass. She glanced around her body and saw him use his free hand to guide himself. As the pointed tip slipped between her soft cheeks she had a moment of panic that he would take advantage of the position and fuck her ass. That wasn't what she needed. She didn't think it would soften the need.

Her body shuddered and moaned when his tip pressed against the puckered opening. Thankfully, he moved himself downward. He nestled into the soft folds and she gasped. Only the slightest press but it pushed against her muscles and drove fresh ecstasy through her shattered body.

His hips slammed against her. It wasn't gentle. She didn't need gentle and he knew it. Her legs were coated with her desire. There was no friction as he buried himself in one swift motion. If she missed the slight additional sensation, it was enough that his size forced her open and pressed against what seemed like her entire body within all at once.

The soft hands on her hips pushed her away and yanked her back. His balls slapped against her clit and sent minor explosions throughout her body. His shaft felt as if it pricked at the very back of her.

She began to scream as the first orgasm crashed over her.

Breasts heavy with longing swung forward and back in time with his abuse. They smacked against her chest and distracted her from the pleasure she demanded. Suddenly, his hands released her hips and enfolded her body to cup them. A light squeeze told her he knew what she needed.

His elbows locked against her sides and helped to hold her steady but his hands continued to guide her body into the rhythm. Her scream grew louder and more exultant. His grip tugged slightly at her breasts with each pull back towards him but somehow that felt right. What could have been a rough grope and harsh yank suddenly became a massage that freed her of the cursed pressure within.

Resonance lost herself in the euphoria. She vaguely realized she cursed at him. Commanded him to greater efforts. Begged him to finish inside her. She quickly grew too horse for words and grunted moaned and whined until she felt his rhythm falter and her insides clutch greedily at the pulsing form within her.

Everything stopped. His hands continued to grip her but they were once more gentle. He remained inside of her but rapidly began to shrink. Her body shook from aftershocks. It wasn't until he slid out of her, whether by design or because he was too small to remain she would never know, that she realized she finally felt relief.

"When you get back, file your charges if you really think I did anything to harm you. Say I molested you if you can honestly say it wasn't what you wanted." There was a slight quail in his voice as he stepped back away from her, as if he was afraid of her response.

"If you choose, there is a shower off to your left. You'll still be naked when you head out, but at least you'll be clean. Of course, if you plan to file charges, I suggest you wait. You'd have all the DNA evidence you need for a conviction.

"I...I can't." She whimpered. He was now nothing more than a voice. She lacked even the strength to turn around and look at him.

"If you ever get the opportunity, check my file. The men have charged me, but my lawyer and I are confident that if I ever do come to trial, what has honestly been done to them can be argued as self defense against someone who broke into my home. I've embarrassed a lot of people but never done any real damage."

She heard a door open somewhere behind her. Slowly, gently, the cables that held her up began to relax her onto the floor. Although her hands remained encased in the globs, she had full freedom of motion once again.

She curled up on her side and looked herself over. Sweat and other fluids covered her. Some time during everything, he'd used the device to cut away the last of her clothes. All that remained were her gloves, boots and mask. At least he'd left her her identity and decent footwear for the long trek back.

"I think you'll find, however, that none of the women have ever filed charges. Your handlers have even tried to bully them, from what I hear. Terms like Stockholm syndrome and misplaced guilt are thrown around to explain it. All I can offer is that you do what you feel is right.

"When you are ready, just go to a panel and I'll let you out." All she could see of him was a silhouette in the light of the doorway. "If you ever feel the urge, feel free to try again. Now you know what will happen if you fail."

"Has anyone ever tried again? The women, I mean."

Despite the shadows that covered his expression, she could almost see the wistful smile that played across his features. "I think you'll find there are more than a few. Who knows, maybe some of them even subconsciously sabotage their own attempts.

"Eventually, I'm sure, someone will get me. Until then, you're free to try again." He shrugged. And with that the door closed and he was gone.

Copyright January 2011 by Deathlynx