Seduction of the Innocent
mc; Ff; Fdom; oral; tf; tg
"Such a shame."
Dr Leonard shook his head, looking at the result of his work. The laboratory looked—and smelled—like a disaster. Stench of burning rubber was heavy in the air, black smoke coming from beneath the machine’s sealants. It had taken a year’s worth of research and manufacturing to put it all together; the price of the components had been astronomical and putting it all together had required hundreds of hours of personal work and supervision. Yet, it had been a minor loss compared to the loss of the true prize itself.
Putting on his rubber gloves, the man crouched down next to the captured superheroine. Her eyes were unfocused, her face wet with tears and sweat. Leonard tilted her head with his hands, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes. There was no trace of comprehension behind those blue eyes, none of the hatred Leonard was so used to seeing. Scarlet Storm was gone—her body might be still alive, but not much remained of her mind. The diagnostics on the screen revealed that much.
The sight was somewhat upsetting. Had she survived the process, her value would’ve been immeasurable. It wasn’t just the loss of a potential asset that bothered Leonard, however; the loss of a good adversary was more disquieting he thought possible. The two of them had clashed for years now, and Leonard had managed to gain a grudging respect for the red-haired superheroine. She had been not only powerful, but smart as well—capable of outwitting even him, thwarting the cleverest of his plots.
All but this one, at least. He always knew he’d have the last laugh. It had still felt like a surprise when it happened, though. The Society wouldn’t have expected it either; Scarlet Storm had been active for nearly two decades, acquiring rivals and enemies that were considered far more dangerous than Leonard. She could fly, she was powerful enough to lift locomotives and nothing short of an artillery shell could harm her—even age didn’t seem to slow her down one bit, the superheroine still as powerful now as she was when she started out, when she was still a teenager. Perhaps even more so.
So who would’ve believed that it’d be him who ended her career? He had never given her too much trouble, his constructs destroyed and carefully arranged plans laid bare by her and her compatriots. But all those attempts hadn’t been for nothing; while everyone had been celebrating their little victories over him, Leonard had been gathering data, collecting information, perfecting his brand of science in and out of prison. Being underestimated certainly had its advantages. He wouldn’t be amongst the prime suspects behind her disappearance when the Society would start searching for her.
Carefully removing the backup drive from the machine, Leonard grabbed an extinguisher and liberally sprayed the machine with coolant. It was a piece of junk now, the expensive components scorched and melted together into an unusable mass of silicon and rare minerals. Needless to say, it had not quite worked as expected; her will had been too strong, her body adapted too fast to the nanobots that finally ended up being her downfall. It was still early to say whether the experiment had truly been a failure or not, however. Plenty of valuable data had been gathered.
Plugging the drive into his laptop, Leonard begun transferring the data over to the corporation’s server cluster. Amongst it were Scarlet Storm’s memories, her personality, everything that she had been—or at least, a digital imprint of it. Within it, if it all had been preserved well, were secrets valuable enough to kill for. Perhaps the true names and faces of other superheroes close to her, perhaps something more. It would, however, take a lot of raw processing power and plenty of manual labour to sort it all out and to make any sense out of any of it.
Leonard blinked. There was something there that seemed immediately accessible; Scarlet Storm’s last thoughts. A clear image had burned itself into her mind even as the nanomachines ate through it. Processing it and opening the resulting image, the mad scientist saw a touching scene indeed. A young girl wearing a green sundress contrasting her scarlet hair. The smile on her face was wide and genuine, an idyllic farmhouse behind her. Without a doubt, it was someone closely related to the burned out superheroine. Her daughter, perhaps?
“Well, well. Perhaps we’re getting something more out of this after all.” He mumbled to himself, dialling his current employer to share the news.
The stone crashed down with a thump, sliding a solid foot even after hitting the ground. Thirteen feet and three inches today—not her best, but it’d do.
Erin bit her lip, hoisting the rock up and returning it to its place. Her mother had told her to toss it daily, to keep measuring how far she’d manage to throw it. She had more or less dutifully obeyed, only skipping a day here and there. Not like there was much else to do at the farm, anyway.
Two years ago she hadn’t been even strong enough to lift the stone. Now, she could manage a fairly reasonable distance. Apparently her mother hadn’t gained the full use of her powers until she was sixteen or so—Erin still had almost three years to go, assuming she’d develop at the same pace.
Erin wanted to learn to fly already. No superheroics for her until she was capable of at least that much; even the fact that the Scarlet Storm had a daughter—or family at all—was to be kept secret until that point. She wanted to join her mother on her patrols, help her fight her enemies, get to meet all the other members of the Society. She was a fan of many of them and was always eager to hear about their heroic deeds from the television and occasionally even her mother, as tight-lipped as she tended to be regarding these matters. The less Erin knew the better, apparently.
The girl sighed. Her mother had been missing for two weeks already. It wasn’t too unusual for her to be gone for long, even without telling anything to her beforehand—there were always things that came up in her line of work. This time, though, not even her friends knew where she was; the Society had told her father that his wife was missing, but nobody had any more information to give.
As much as Erin would’ve loved to help in the search, she knew she’d be dead weight. Her mother would probably turn up soon, anyway, coming back home and revealing that she had fought off an alien invasion or thwarted the plot of some sort of an extradimensional dream-being. Thinking back at all the times her mother had returned safe and sound even in the face of certain peril made the girl feel a bit better.
Writing today’s results up in the notebook left near the stone, Erin returned home, ready to take a shower and relax for the rest of the evening.
“Confirmed. She’s inside.”
Dr Leonard took a sip of espresso, listening to the radio chatter. As much as he had enjoyed working alone, being employed by Fathom had its advantages. Corporate sponsorship gave him men and resources both, and thought his obligations did limit him in some respects, he had managed to negotiate a respectable deal for himself.
A trained extraction squad was certainly a useful thing to have at his beck and call, and having a near-limitless access to money and things to buy with it helped as well—though naturally, everything he did had to benefit the company. Or at the very least its CEO.
Vivienne Valencourt was a unique woman, to say at least. She had rebuilt her company from ground up after taking over as its managing director, focusing on medicine and biotechnology, recruiting the best scientists and engineers of their respective fields to create some truly innovative new technology. Leonard was amongst them, recruited directly from prison—it was a part of his parole deal to keep working for the company and to use his expertise to help developing Fathom’s cybernetic prosthesis line. He did that, of course, but he found time for plenty of other things—and Vivienne made full use of his talents.
The woman was evil, and in Leonard’s presence she didn’t even bother to hide it. She had requested things that felt quite immoral even to him, though he still obliged—the more he pleased her with his work, the more she let him work on his own projects. He had gained the funding for the last project by promising to turn Scarlet Storm over to Vivienne after he was done with her. She had been livid when she’d heard of his failure, though she promised to give him another chance with her daughter. Besides, it turns out that even the burned out husk of the former superheroine might have its uses. She would be plenty appeased if that turned out to be the case.
Scarlet Storm’s identity had been a closely guarded secret. Most of the Society, it turns out, didn’t even know she had any family. There were only a few rare confidantes that knew anything about her at all, and Leonard had made sure they were busy tonight—by the time anyone would learn of the daughter’s disappearance, they’d be long gone.
Leonard reached for the microphone. “We’ll begin in ten minutes. Hold tight.”
Patting her hair dry, a towel wrapped around her body, Erin paused for a bit to look at herself in the mirror. She definitely had her mother’s looks—the straight, unusually vibrant crimson hair was probably the greatest gift she’d received from her, at least after the superpowers. From her father, she’d inherited the piercing green eyes. All in all, she was very happy with her appearance, not that she had a lot of people to compare herself to here in the boondocks.
Puberty had arrived quite gently and quite late. Her still mostly hairless body had started to get subtle curves only recently, but the fact that it was happening at all was quite a relief. Her powers had always made her feel weird, and though her mother had assured her that every teenager felt odd about themselves, Erin still considered herself a special case. She had wanted to get her ears pierced so she could wear earrings, but that turned out to be quite difficult. No needle or piercing gun could penetrate her earlobes; so much for that, then.
Sighing, the girl turned to the door, only to see it immediately being kicked in. She froze; a pair of men, wearing what looked like military gear complete with camo patterns and face-concealing helmets stood on the doorway and lobbed in something that looked like a gas grenade. Odourless grey gas filled the small room instantly, and without hesitation, the two raised their submachine guns and pulled the trigger.
Erin felt the bullets penetrating the towel she was wearing, impacting painfully against her skin without quite piercing it. It’d leave bruises, but that would be it. For a moment, she was in disbelief, unable to react—her mind couldn’t quite decide between confusion, anger and shame.
Anger ended up winning out. The men barely dodged an inexpertly thrown punch as the nude teenager charged at them. She wasn’t holding back, not much—her mother had assured her that she wasn’t quite strong enough to kill a man with a single punch yet, at least if she avoided the head area. The armed men scattered, running to the opposite directions. The girl blinked. She was bulletproof, certainly, but her father… hesitating a bit, she made a dash for kitchen. He should’ve been there right now, preparing the dinner.
Her father was there. There was a bag over his head, his hands tied behind his back. He was forced onto his knees with several weapons pointed at him. Erin bit her lip, fighting back the tears. She knew the bad guys never fought fair—but to actually experience it was another matter. “What do you want?!” She demanded, red with anger as she faced the intruders in her house.
There was no response. Her father tried shouting something at her, but the voice was muffled. Creeped out by the silent treatment, self-conscious about her own nudity, Erin felt her fury flare again. “What do you want? Why are you here?!” She asked again, and felt a shiver pass through her body. How odd—it was a hot summer day, why was she feeling so unbearably cold all of a sudden?
The men still did not respond, never once taking their weapons off Erin’s father. The situation looked hopeless—not even her mother would’ve been fast enough to save him. Trying to raise her voice again, gripping her hands tightly into fists, Erin realised that no sound was coming out of her throat. She blinked in confusion, and collapsed.
“Yes, yes. They work quite well. Not a surprise, her powers are virtually identical.”
“Good. Call me down when you’re ready. And don’t mess it up this time.”
Leonard grunted, ending the phone call. He never liked it when people questioned his competence. Walking over to the monitor, he glanced at the unconscious body on the operating table.
He wasn’t into girls as young as she was. It was difficult to see her as anything but a test subject, though her resemblance to her mother was undeniable—there was more than a hint of his old adversary within those features. Vivienne would probably like her, though. A lot. He knew how her tastes were. He had obliged a few of her stranger requests in the past. Bringing his attention back to the monitor, he checked the girl’s vitals.
It had taken ages just to gather the tissue samples to develop the nanomachines capable of piercing Scarlet Storm’s invulnerable cells. The current incarnation was still flawed, as made evident by what happened to the superheroine; they were fine for subtle manipulation and passive thought reading, but any more than that and they would burn out the cells they were attached to. The problem still eluded Leonard, and he didn’t dare to risk it happening again with the girl. He had managed to knock her out with them, and he’d continue to use them—but there was only so much he could do with them until he improved on the design.
“At least I have a good test subject to play with while Vivienne’s busy with the girl…” Leonard mumbled to himself, preparing the girl to be woken up.
Erin woke up with a gasp and a surge of panic. She was laying on her back in an unfamiliar place, bright lights shined directly at her face. Closing her eyes quickly, attempting to shield them with her hand, she noticed she couldn’t move her arm—it was entirely immobile, bound by a manacle of some sort.
The memories started returning. The gunmen, her father being taken hostage. Anger flaring inside of her again, she struggled against her bindings, trying to break free with all her might.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” said a male voice somewhere to her side. Turning her head, she shot an angry glance at its direction.
Perhaps in his late thirties, already balding, the man looking at her looked like a scientist—wearing a white lab coat and rubber gloves, he looked like he might’ve been in the middle of an experiment of some sort. In a brief surge of panic, Erin looked down at her body—she was clothed, thankfully, a loose lime green hospital gown on her. Returning her focus on the man, she narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
The man gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Oh, scary. So demanding. The way your eyes narrow, just like your mother.” He smiled humourlessly. “I’m Dr Leonard. Are you familiar with me?”
Erin’s heart skipped a beat. She knew the name—her mother had never told much about him, but he had been on the news last year. Something about a giant robot and drones that could take control of people. Her mother, along with other Society members, had finally managed to bring him down. “What did you do to my mother?” She demanded.
There was a shrug as the man ignored Erin’s question. “Don’t worry about your mother, girl. Worry about yourself. You’re our hostage against the Society, and we wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid that’d force us to hurt you.” He gave another joyless smile. “Not that you could, mind you. That gas that was used against you, if you recall? Took away your powers. Zip. Gone. You’re as helpless as anyone, now.”
Took away her powers? Not permanently, Erin hoped. Even the thought of it felt horrible, she had never even gotten the chance to fly. As for her mother, though… if Erin was to be held a hostage, it was likely to be against her. That implied she was still alive and well. All she’d have to do is to sit tight and wait to be saved, by her or the rest of the Society. Swallowing, she took a moment to recompose herself. “...So, if I’m powerless, why am I still strapped here? Let me move.”
“Not until the boss tells me to, I’m afraid. In fact, let me make the call and tell her you’re awake—I think she’s looking forward to meeting you.” The mad scientist waited a moment before speaking again, somewhere towards the wall. “Ah, yes. It’s me. She’s awake. That’s right. Very well.”
So the man wasn’t the mastermind behind this. Erin rolled her eyes. She’d have a few choice words to his boss when she met her.
Vivienne Valencourt smiled as she took the lift down into the laboratory. Erin Willard, the daughter of one Sandra Willard, also known as Scarlet Storm—quite the catch. She had seen the pictures, and she was definitely looking forward to meeting her in the flesh. All the money spent on acquiring the talents of that mad scientist, all the money given to him to be spent on his inane projects—all of it ended up being worth it, after all.
With raven black hair and ruby red lips, flawlessly pale skin and carefully manicured nails, Vivienne was quite the looker herself. The fact that she made use of her own company’s cosmetics and little enhancements wasn’t exactly a secret; she was a living proof that they worked. Her dress was of the latest Paris fashion, the bracelets on her wrists expensive and eye-catching. When she told people to do something, they obeyed, whether they were her own employees or members of the press. Her natural charisma, along with her peerless business acumen and a tendency to always make a move bolder than anyone in the competition ever expected her to had rocketed her from a minor communications manager to a fashion icon and the CEO of the whole of Fathom, and she swiftly remade the corporation into her own image.
The lift doors opened and Vivienne stepped into the sterile laboratory. It was new, specifically constructed for Dr Leonard. She smiled politely at him when she saw him, and he nodded back. As focused on the science of his as the man was, he was like anyone else—quite unable to resist her.
The balding scientist gestured towards the girl. Wearing an ugly hospital gown, she was strapped in place quite tightly, all of her limbs bound by manacles. There was a trace of surprise on the girl’s face as she looked at Vivienne, as if she had expected someone completely different.
“Why is she bound? It looks quite uncomfortable.” Vivienne said, pursing her ruby lips as she switched her gaze from the girl back towards Leonard. “Release her, will you?”
Leonard shrugged. “Alright, then.” He said, pulling the lever to unshackle her. “She’s all yours.”
“Took you long enough…” The girl grumbled, heaving herself up and rubbing her wrists. She tried to maintain a somewhat hostile expression on her face to make it absolutely clear she wasn’t pleased with the situation, but Vivienne observed a hint of curiosity there as well. The black-haired woman smiled at the girl. The gown didn’t exactly flatter her, but that would be fixed soon enough.
“I assume Dr Leonard here explained the situation to you, Erin?” She asked, casually using her first name.
Erin shifted a bit. “Taken hostage, powers gone, I get the gist of it.” She said in a bitter tone. “Am I going to get a proper room, at least? I’d hate to stay in a prison cell. Or here.”
Giving a disarming, apparently genuine smile, Vivienne crouched down a bit to talk to the girl on her own eye level. Most girls of her age would’ve found the gesture patronising, but Vivienne was good with people. Very good. “You’ll get a proper room, of course. Please do not think we’ll treat you poorly. Anything but. We simply have a need for you for the time being, alright?” She asked. Erin seemed unimpressed. “I’m Vivienne Valencourt. You may call me Vivienne.” She said, offering her hand.
The girl didn’t seem to recognise the name, awkwardly responding to the handshake. Vivienne took her hand to her own, squeezing it just a bit as a friendly gesture. “So, are you one my mother’s enemies, or…?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing of the sort. I’m a businesswoman, nothing more.”
Erin seemed to try to digest this information for a bit, before shrugging. “A businesswoman with some crazy plan that requires her to take a young girl as a hostage. Don’t think you aren’t a bad guy.”
Vivienne laughed, genuinely delighted with the girl. Standing up, she ruffled her hair—another patronising gesture, intentionally so. It didn’t seem to improve the girl’s mood.
“What about my father?” Erin asked, a bit of an edge to her tone.
“He’s fine. We didn’t take him, one hostage was enough.” She smiled. “We simply put him to sleep. He’s unharmed and should already be awake, so don’t worry your head about him.”
Erin bit her lip and nodded slowly, apparently more or less satisfied with the explanation.
The woman offered her hand to the girl again. “Shall we go see your room?”
Erin kicked a pillow, trying to release her pent up frustration. The pathetic distance it flew only managed to sour her mood further, a reminder of just how weak she was at the moment.
It was a nice room, she could admit to that much. Having lived in the countryside all her life, she always thought she was lucky to have such a large house with acres of empty space around it, but the room, somehow, made even that place feel cramped. It was almost as tall as it was wide, featuring its own kitchen and an attached bathroom along with a wasteful amount of completely empty space. The walls were lined with modernist paintings, the multi-levelled floor decorated with carpets and potted plants. Even the bed in the corner of the room was luxurious, probably larger than the one her parents shared—it was like a luxury suite in a five star hotel.
And yet, it was a prison cell. It was underground, lacking windows entirely. The only exit was locked tight. The room might’ve had everything she needed, but just the fact that she was trapped in it was enough to drive her mad. She had always considered herself a free spirit; being locked up like this made her feel anxious and depressed.
If she could just get her powers back and her hands on that mad scientist and his corporate overlord, she’d beat the tar out of them. Nothing lethal, mind you—her mother always taught her that she’d be no better than a murderer if she took justice to her own hands to that extent. But hurting them up to a certain point seemed perfectly acceptable.
This isn’t really how she wanted her career to start. She wanted to be a respected heroine just like her mother, a symbol for others to rally behind. Someone fit to continue in her footsteps and to fight alongside her. The world was full of people like Dr Leonard, it needed people like her. Heroes who could take anything thrown at them, who’d always emerge victorious, who’d never, ever sully their hands in doing so. Her mother had always taught her to try to fight back her anger, to approach situations with calm rationality—being angry led into taking unnecessary risks, and it led into accidents. It led into doing things you’d later regret. Taking a deep breath, Erin did her best to calm down.
To ward off boredom, she hopped onto the sofa and turned the TV on. At least they had satellite here.
“And you’re sure she won’t notice?” Vivienne asked sweetly.
Dr Leonard grunted. “It’s not my first time doing this, you know. As long as you’re not in a hurry, we can do this slowly and sweetly, and she’ll never be the wiser.”
“Of course. I’ll let you handle the first steps. As we agreed, yes?”
Leonard sat down in front of his computer. “As agreed.”
During daytime, the nanomachines would have two simple functions: to keep her powers down and to monitor her thoughts. Going any further than that would be extremely risky; chances are, she would notice even subtle changes as long as she was actively paying attention to her own thoughts. Should she realise she was being manipulated, should she start actively resisting the effects, it’d be impossible to continue without increasing the power—and that wasn’t an option, considering what happened to her mother. Not yet.
At least the problem had a simple solution; wait until she’s sleeping and make any changes then. Nothing too overt, of course. But little by little, making her think the changes oriented from within, that was the key.
“Alright. Beginning the adjustments.”
Erin woke up refreshed and in a considerably better mood than the night before. The bed had been comfortable to say at least, and the new clothes she had been given were quite nice. The pyjamas she’d been wearing since yesterday were rather childish—the strawberry pattern isn’t what she’d have picked if she had had a choice—but the texture was comfortable and they were silky smooth.
Also improving her mood was the smell of the freshly baked bread.
Sometime during her sleep, food had been brought in—fresh bread, butter, cheese and some sort of an omelette with sausage and herbs. It wasn’t too strange that she didn’t wake up to it being brought in; she always was a heavy sleeper, though she did feel a bit ashamed to be so relaxed in what was pretty much the enemy stronghold.
After washing her face, she moved to inspect the food she’d been brought. For a brief moment, she thought about not eating any of it—a hunger strike might show her ‘hosts’ that she meant business and wasn’t interested in playing the part of the hostage. After a brief hesitation, though, the hunger won out. She’d probably be rescued soon, anyway. Might as well ensure she’d be at her full strength when it happened.
The melting butter on the fresh bread tasted heavenly and Erin found herself feeling at least just a bit thankful for the meal she’d been given. It was hard to hate Vivienne despite of what she’d done. The room she’d given her was luxurious, the food good, and it’s not as if she had actually hurt anyone so far. To her knowledge, at least.
The more she thought about the woman, the better she felt about her situation. She didn’t seem the type to wish her harm. Erin wasn’t going to submit to her, oh no—she would keep up a passive resistance. She’d make it clear that she did not enjoy being held here against her will, that she hated being used against her mother and the Society like this. But it might be a good idea to try to talk to her more, at least. To learn who she was, what her motivations were, what she needed a hostage for. It would be advantageous, Erin figured, to get to know a bit more about her. As embarrassing as it was to need rescue, it would be less so if she’d at least have some useful information to give about her capturer.
Maybe her situation wasn’t so bad after all.
Multiplying Girl was doing what she did the best. She was investigating.
Nine of her copies were scouring the city, twelve more digging through the countryside for clues. They were interrogating potential witnesses, checking out security feeds and just doing some good, old-fashioned detective work. Despite being only sixteen years old, she had plenty of relevant knowledge. Hacking, wiretapping, knowing exactly how to make people squeal—she’d learned from the best, simultaneously.
Many members of the Society of Superheroes had flashy powers. Scarlet Storm certainly did, her strength and invulnerability making her a favourite amongst the people. Multiplying Girl had no such things. All she could do was to copy herself and merge those copies back, reabsorbing everything they had learned. That, combined with all the training she’d received made her one of the top information gatherers of the Society. Very often she was called to find a missing person or to figure out the true mastermind behind some attack or robbery. More often than not, she succeeded.
Her powers weren’t perfect. While the copies had her exact appearance, memories, personality and skills, they didn’t have the ability to copy themselves. They weren’t exactly long-lasting either; if she created them out of thin air, they’d last a couple of hours, tops. Using a soft, malleable catalyst—clay worked the best out of everything she had tried—she could make more long-lasting ones, but even then, a month was the longest she’d ever been able to maintain one. All the current copies out there were based on clay, created under the expectation that the investigation would last for quite a while.
Currently, she was waiting around an abandoned car park. One of her copies had called her and told her she’d discovered something. This was their usual meeting place, an easy place to hide from prying eyes.
“I got something interesting, boss.” Her voice said, and she turned around.
Wearing a simple disguise—a baseball hat, a light jersey and a pair of cargo trousers, along with a large sports bag, one of her copies approached with a grin.
Multiplying Girl smiled. “Let’s see it, then.”
Without being prompted to do so, the copy begun undressing. Multiplying Girl didn’t turn her gaze away—she wasn’t exactly ashamed of her own body. Her curly, golden blonde hair fell to her mid-back; her breasts were average sized at best, but well-rounded and perky. Though she technically had done a lot of work outdoors in the form of her copies, her original body usually stayed indoors—as a result, her skin was somewhat pale. Her smile was always a bit lopsided, prominent dimples giving her a playful appearance.
She wasn’t afraid to admit that she was attracted to herself. Self-pleasure took whole new layers when you could make a few copies out of thin air whenever you wished.
The copy walked up to her and she took her into a tight embrace, absorbing everything that her copy was. The two became one, their memories and experiences now shared. Nothing remained in her place, even the original clay used to mould her now gone; only a sports bag filled with discarded clothes remained as evidence of her ever having been present.
She blinked. This copy had certainly discovered something interesting—it was good of her to come back immediately. She’d need to pursue this lead. Spitting onto both of her hands, rubbing them together, she walked up to the nearby pile of clay. Placing her hands onto it she begun copying herself once again.
It was Erin’s fifth day there, and she was already getting quite used to the place. The food was good, the room nice and most of her requests were granted. When she asked for a specific movie, she got it. When she asked for books to read, she got a whole bunch.
Vivienne had come to see her twice already, both times uninvited. Though Erin was initially expecting some sort of an interrogation about her mother or the Society, the visits ended up being nothing like that. Vivienne didn’t ask anything even remotely probing—they had a pleasant conversation about the TV shows and literature they both liked, about fashion and music and general worries about life.
It came to Erin as a minor surprise to hear that Vivienne was something of a fashion icon. She showed her a magazine with her on the cover, wearing a dress that managed to be both elaborate and multi-layered and somehow very revealing at the same time. Definitely something Erin wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, but it was beautiful all the same. After Erin confessed she knew nothing about fashion—though had some interest in it, as a teenage girl—the black-haired woman ended up giving her some honest tips and general advice about how to present herself well. It was definitely more help than what her mother had ever been able to provide regarding the subject.
The warm feeling in Erin’s chest when she thought about Vivienne didn’t bother her. It felt natural, somehow. And why wouldn’t it be? The woman was immensely likeable, and though her motives and methods were suspect, she still didn’t feel like a bad person.
There was a knock on the door, and Erin returned back to reality. She immediately stood up. “Come in!”
Vivienne entered, wearing something rather casual this time: a burgundy blouse with a low cut and a long dark-striped skirt. As usual, she was wearing high heels, black and glossy; her lips were bright red with an attractive smile on them. Erin greeted her with an almost shy wave, waiting to hear the woman’s comments about her own outfit.
After their discussion about fashion, there had been a delivery of clothes and accessories into her room, her wardrobe suddenly filled with options to choose from, ranging from completely casual to quite formal. Erin had picked her outfit with Vivienne in mind, expecting that she might pop up today; she was wearing knee-high socks, glossy Mary Janes and a casual light blue dress with light frills around the hems and a large ribbon adorning the back. It was somewhat more girly than she was used to, but it felt okay to wear something like it now that she had a chance. It wasn’t as if she had anything like that back home at the farm.
“Hello, Erin. Have you had a pleasant day?” The woman asked, and Erin found herself nodding despite herself.
“…More or less.” She said, wanting to still complain about not being allowed to go out, but knowing it’d be useless. “Have you?” She asked to be polite.
“Yes, I have.” Vivienne responded, sitting down comfortably on the sofa and inviting the girl to sit down next to her. Erin obliged. “I brought a little something for you. Though, it’s up to you to decide if you’re interested.”
The raven-haired woman set her handbag down onto the floor, taking out what looked like a screwdriver in plastic packaging. The girl blinked, not recognising the object.
“It’s a piercing needle.” Vivienne explained. “You told me about your inability to wear earrings, but…” There was a smile. “Well, you’re depowered now. Might as well take the opportunity now, or you might miss it forever.”
“Ah, right…” Erin said, examining the tool. She wasn’t sure if it’d be okay to accept charity like that from the woman who’d kidnapped her. What would her mother think? On the other hand, it really was her only chance to do it. And looking up at the woman’s encouraging smile, well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She’d hate to miss the opportunity. “…Alright. Let’s do it.”
“It won’t really hurt. Just a tiny pinprick.” The woman said, taking the needle off its packaging and sterilising it with a lighter. “Could you rest your head here, please?” She asked, patting her lap.
Slightly taken aback, Erin nonetheless did as she asked. Placing her head on the woman’s lap, she could feel herself blushing… yet at the same time, it was oddly pleasant. She felt calm even as something firm was placed against her earlobe, twitching a bit as she felt the pinprick in her ear. Turning around to give the woman access to the other ear, she felt her slender fingers stroking her hair for just a brief moment. How long had it been since her mother had done the same?
“And here we go.”
Kept alive within a tank, hooked to loud life support systems, Dr Leonard’s old adversary was a sad sight indeed. The damage her nervous system had sustained was severe—as it was, her body was unable to support her life functions. It was nothing unfixable, though. It rarely was.
“Will she retain anything?” Vivienne asked, looking at the tank with a cold expression.
Leonard shrugged. “Sort of. Fragments, maybe. Probably not enough for her to even recall her own name, but maybe an odd memory here and there, some shadow of a personality. It won’t be a risk, I assure you.”
A hint of a smile creeped on the CEO’s face. “Memories, hm. Like those of her daughter?”
“Maybe. Why?”
Vivienne fell silent. Leonard decided not to pursue the matter further. He’d suspected for a while that there might’ve been something personal between Scarlet Storm and the woman, but it wasn’t really his business to look into it. He couldn’t think of a situation where the two of them would’ve been in conflict, or even met, but odder things had happened. How well did he really know either of them, anyway?
“So, you said you’ve had a breakthrough.” Vivienne said, changing the topic.
“Something like it. The daughter’s powers are similar, so using the mother as a testbed gives reliable results. I’m running tests on the nanomachines even as I’m working on her body. I’d expect results in…” He fell silent for a brief moment. “The next few days.”
Vivienne pursed her lips. “Fine. See it done, then.”
Returning to her room, Vivienne sighed. For a man so intelligent, Leonard was a poor liar. As much as he tried to play the obedient puppy who was doing as she asked him to, it was clear the man was plotting something.
There was no single sign proving his disloyalty or anything, but the evidence was piling up. All those little off-the-book projects of his that remained unreported. His increasing avoidance of her. His apparent boredom with his assigned tasks, the slowness of his current work. Most likely, he was slipping some of his own programming into Scarlet Storm even as he worked on her—he’d be a fool not to. Nobody else could fully understand his work, and having the superheroine under his personal command would make for a hell of an asset no matter what he wanted to do in the future. The man was a risk, but one still worth keeping around.
At least she was taking care of the girl herself, the programming entirely out of Leonard’s hands. It wouldn’t do for him to taint her with anything extraneous—she was hers to do as she pleased with. With a smile, she reapplied her lipstick and added a touch of floral perfume. It was the kind Erin liked the most. She had made sure of that.
Fathom. The company had been of special interest to the Society for a while, though everything they had heard had been rumours and speculation at best. They had recruited several prominent supervillains already, though no evidence of real misbehaviour existed. And their CEO… well, she had a potential motive.
Multiplying Girl—one of her copies, at least—had passed the job interviews with flying colours. Falsified work history, falsified credentials, falsified diploma. It took a bit of work to make herself look older than she really was, but disguises were amongst her many talents.
Of course, it was only an intern position. She wouldn’t be let anywhere truly secretive within the facility, but that hardly mattered. Once she was in, she’d have opportunities to poke around with a few handy gadgets provided by the more technologically apt members of the Society. It might take a while to produce any results, but it had already nearly a month since Scarlet Storm had gone missing and ten days since her daughter had. A few extra days probably wouldn’t make a large difference.
Chances were, of course, that the leads were false and that the company had nothing to do with their disappearances. In that case, her work would really be quite useless, but that hardly mattered. Other copies were after other leads, investigating different things entirely. One of them was, eventually, bound to get it right. One hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
Erin played with her fingers nervously, her heart racing just a bit as she waited for Vivienne to arrive. Returning to the mirror, she checked herself out for the umpteenth time.
Once again, she was amazed by how pretty she looked. Wearing a striped slim-fit dress displaying her still-childish curves quite prominently, she looked almost nothing like how she imagined herself to be. The lightly heeled shoes felt awkward to walk on, but they gave her a mature look she never thought possible. The green gemstone earrings accentuated her eyes quite nicely and the golden necklace drew one’s gaze to her upper chest despite there not being much else to look at. The single bracelet on her left wrist matched the earrings perfectly.
She was even wearing makeup. She had applied the nail polish and the light lipstick carefully, just the way that Vivienne had taught her to yesterday. It’s not that she didn’t know how to, before—her mother had taught her these things quite a while ago—but she needed the refreshment. It’s not as if she had a lot of opportunities to do so at the farm, and Vivienne was an excellent teacher.
Erin could feel herself blushing as she thought back on the raven-haired woman. She was pretty sure she had seen some kind of a dream about her, though she couldn’t remember the details. When she had woken up, though, she had felt odd and bothered, in the need of cold water and a hearty breakfast. Even then the feeling didn’t quite pass, and her anxiety had only increased through the day as she waited for her daily visit. Waited to see what she’d think of her today.
There was a knock on the door and Erin’s heart jumped to her throat. Stepping away from the mirror, she took a deep breath and tried to act as casual as possible. “Come in!”
Vivienne did so, looking as beautiful as always. Wearing a dark silk robe, the design reminiscent of traditional Chinese or a Japanese clothing, it casually fell over her body while keeping no curves hidden. The sandals she wore displayed her painted toenails prominently, precisely matching the colour of her lipstick. The low cut of her clothes invited the viewer to look at her slender neck and visible cleavage, and Erin found herself doing just that—forcing herself to tear her eyes away after just a moment.
“Are you alright?” The woman asked gently, looking curiously at the girl. Erin realised she was most likely quite red on her face right now, which only increased her embarrassment further.
“N-no, I’m okay.” She mumbled, freezing up as Vivienne approached her. The woman placed her fingers gently under the girl’s chin, tilting her head up just a bit and looking her in the eyes. Erin felt like a puppy standing in front of the headlights of an incoming car, unable to move or react in any way.
“You don’t look okay. Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” She said, tugging the girl’s hand and leading her to the bed. Sitting down, she invited Erin to follow in suit. With slightly wobbly knees, she did just that.
“I’m fine, really!” Erin said, energetically denying it to hide her feelings. As she watched the woman’s beautiful smile widen, though, she felt her resolve melt away. “J-just fine.”
“Could it be that you’re embarrassed?” Vivienne asked, putting her hand on the girl’s back. Leaning a bit closer, she whispered into her ear. “You don’t need to be. You look very beautiful today.”
That was too much for Erin. The scent of the woman’s perfume, her proximity, the whisper of her beautiful voice. It was as if something broke inside of her; without quite realising why, she realised that tears were streaming down her face.
The women sighed and hugged her, burying her wet face into the folds of her silky dress. “Oh, Erin.” She said, holding her tightly and letting the girl take her time to sort her feelings. Feeling increasingly confused, increasingly vulnerable, Erin hugged her tight and tried to dry her tears. “Could it be that you’re attracted to me?”
That was it, wasn’t it? She hadn’t dared to put it into words, but now that they were out, there was no denying it. She couldn’t stop thinking about the woman, her beauty and gentleness inspiring feelings inside of her that she had never felt before. She understood that she was her mother’s enemy, understood how shameful her feelings were, but she couldn’t help it. With a nod, she responded in a miserable tone. “…Yes.”
Pulling away from the girl just a bit, Vivienne used her sleeve to wipe her face. Leaning close, she looked her directly in the eyes. “It’s alright.” She said in a soft, encouraging tone. “It’s alright. It’s entirely natural. There’s no need to be scared or ashamed of it. It’s okay.”
Erin nodded, feeling a lump in her throat, unable to say anything. The woman’s assurances didn’t help much. She felt pathetic, she felt stupid and childish. Unable to control her emotions, having an outburst like that in front of a woman like her…
What happened next wasn’t something the girl was expecting. Vivienne leaned closer, planting her lips against hers, giving her a long kiss while gently laying her down onto the bed on her back. Erin’s eyes widened and she forgot to breathe, the reality of what had happened not entirely clear to her. “I’m attracted to you too, Erin.”
Looking up at the woman with wide eyes, Erin felt like her mind was going blank. She tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t, just staring at Vivienne and still feeling stupid. “B-but…” she mumbled, but didn’t know how to finish the sentence. But what? But Vivienne is her enemy? But she’s just a girl? But she couldn’t possibly see anything in her? Erin had had a crush on her, but to think that she liked her too… it did explain all the time she had spent with her, giving her fashion advice and staying so close. In the middle of all the chaos in her head, Erin felt joy—happiness over her feelings being answered, that she wasn’t so stupid and pathetic after all.
Vivienne placed her hand on top of the girl’s chest, rubbing her breast through her clothing as she leaned to whisper into her ear again. “I liked you since the first time I saw you. You’re pretty, you’re smart, you’re strong. Why wouldn’t I?” She asked silently, kissing her on her earlobe. “Do you want me to stop?”
Erin was quite sure she had never felt better in her life. Just the act of having her breast touched, even through two layers of clothing was almost enough to drive her mad. She felt helpless under the woman’s charm, afraid and excited in equal amounts—and she wanted nothing more than to continue. Giving the tiniest shake of her head, she gave the woman the permission to continue.
She had ample time to prepare for the next kiss, Vivienne approaching her slowly and deliberately, once again meeting her lips with her own. She could feel the zipper in her back being lowered, the dress slowly peeled from her. Letting the woman do the work, Erin lifted her butt and allowed Vivienne to undress her, to take off her shoes as well, to leave her in her white cotton underwear.
Teasingly, Vivienne pulled back and slowly took her own dress off, revealing her bare chest underneath. She looked down at the mesmerised, red-faced girl, letting her take in her lush breasts. Running her nails gently over Erin’s exposed belly, she smiled. “Next time, I’ll have something cuter for you to wear under your clothes. But you look wonderful now, too.”
Laying down helplessly, Erin watched the woman put her hands under her bra, felt her pinching her nipples and gently stimulating them. Squirming under her touch, she could feel her panties getting soaked with her own fluids. The world was a haze around her, nothing else mattering anymore; as her bra was taken off her, as the woman leaned closer to kiss her neck and to suck her nipples, she moaned out loud.
For the rest of the act, Erin didn’t even pretend to be anything but an animal in heat. Nearing orgasm just from having her breasts rubbed, Vivienne moved lower and lower with her lips, licking her midriff and sucking away at her belly button before finally peeling her wet panties off her. Spreading Erin’s legs with a gentle touch, she moved to lap at the outsides of her slit before finally entering with her tongue, exploring the virgin hole with expertise.
When Erin finally came, she let out an almost pitiful half-scream, half-whimper, her back arcing and her small body trembling under the pleasure. As she laid on the bed, basking in the aftereffects of the orgasm, Vivienne carefully cleaned her girlhood with a damp cloth. She didn’t resist as the woman kissed on her the cheek, telling her how much she loved it.
Erin didn’t respond. The woman left, and she let her tears flow. Somehow, deep inside, she felt like she had just betrayed everything she had cared about.
It seemed that the investigation had finally gotten her some results. Unfortunately, it appeared that she might’ve already been too late.
The copy of Multiplying Girl had performed admirably well, spreading the small electronic bugs through the laboratories she had walked through, hidden them onto spare coats and instruments that seemed like they might be eventually moved into more sensitive areas. Listening to conversations, trying to filter signal out of the noise, she rarely heard anything that sounded even remotely suspicious.
Until today, that is. The speakers were Dr Leonard and someone whose voice she didn’t recognise—but who she suspected to be Vivienne Valencourt, the big boss of the whole company. Their conversation was definitely not meant for her ears. Nanomachines controlling ‘the girl’? And something about a new batch, one that’d bind her completely to their will. She’d have to act now and bust the girl out, no time to call for help. Besides, she was pretty sure she had been caught; the bugs in the room the conversation had happened in were silenced just a minute ago, and they were probably already scrambling to increase security.
Her location was easy to puzzle out from the bits and pieces she had gathered from the conversation and what she’d learned of the place’s layout during her ‘internship’. The guards at her door were relatively simple to eliminate. Would she make it out in time, though?
Erin stared wide-eyed at the blonde intruder. She was wearing a blue janitor’s uniform and there was a gun in her hand, held as a blunt instrument, its handle slightly bloody. “But…”
Multiplying Girl frowned. “I’m telling you, we need to leave now. I’ve got an escape route set up, all we need to do is to get the hell out of here before they manage to trap us in.”
Erin peeked at the two guards, fallen down on the doorway. They were large men, built like refrigerators. They seemed to be still breathing, but for a young girl like her to knock them out… she was probably from the Society. Something inside of her made her feel hesitant, though, unwilling to trust her. Unwilling to leave the place, unwilling to leave Vivienne…
“Get a grip, girl!” The blonde said, grabbing her by the shoulder. Erin offered no resistance. “They’re controlling you. Nanomachines or whatever. You’re not thinking straight. Do you want me to slap you? Would that help?”
The words hit Erin like a truck. Controlling her? “I-I’ll come, yeah…” She mumbled, the implications of what she said coming flooding in. “Controlling how?”
Multiplying Girl let out an overdramatic sigh, starting to run down the hallway with Erin in tow. “Messing with your thoughts or whatever. Do you know if your mother is here? We need to get her out too, fast.”
Controlling her thoughts? “I didn’t… I don’t know about my mother…” She mumbled. Was that all a lie? Was she just being manipulated to… manipulated into…
“Well, she could be somewhere else. Let’s hope so, or we’re all in deep shit soon.” Multiplying Girl said, dragging the girl up the stairs with her.
Erin felt anger building inside of her. Bubbling, boiling, uncontrollable rage. Now that she consciously thought about her emotions, were they not unnatural? Even now when she thought about Vivienne, she felt her knees getting weak and wobbly. Was this a way she should be thinking? Was this natural? Had it all been a lie? She was only vaguely aware of the changing landscape, of the cafeteria they ran through, of the twisting corridors and the poor worker that Multiplying Girl rushed down and ran over. Her head hurt so much it felt like it was ready to burst.
“Right. I disabled the camera feed, so they shouldn’t know about our movements. I think they’re expecting us to make for the fire exit or the side entrance, but… ah, crap.”
Two men armed with stun guns were blocking the passageway, pulling the trigger the instant they spotted the girls. Multiplying Girl managed to avoid the shot, ducking under it at the last moment. Erin wasn’t so lucky; hit squarely in the chest by a pair of darts, she felt a jolt of electricity surge through her as her muscles went limp and she fell down to the ground.
There wasn’t much pain, but Erin’s anger didn’t subside even through the shock. She was pretty sure the girl trying to rescue her was shouting something—at her or the men? It didn’t really matter. She tried to get up, but her limbs wouldn’t do as she told them. On the edge of her vision, she saw Multiplying Girl taking one last look at her, then dashing off into the opposite direction. One of the men approached her and she felt him grabbing her wrist roughly, pulling her up…
Erin snapped. There was no way she was going back. She wouldn’t stay a prisoner any longer, wouldn’t remain as Vivienne’s toy. At that moment, the hatred she felt towards the men assaulting her, towards Vivienne, even towards the blonde girl that was supposed to be rescuing her was so fierce that it surprised even her. With a scream of fury, she pushed against the man trying to touch her, tackled him to the ground and hit him the face with her fist. Seeing red, vaguely realising there was fear in the other man’s eyes, she continued her assault; springing up, she leaped at the other man, smashing his chest with enough force to make him collapse.
There was an odd gurgling sound that returned Erin back to reality. The man’s chest had caved in, blood coming out of his mouth in almost cartoonish spouts. A few seconds later, the sound ended, thick silence falling over the corridor. She turned to look at the other man, unable to comprehend the situation, only to be met with a gruesome sight; his skull had been shattered, his face an unrecognisable mess.
“Girl, what did you do?!” Multiplying Girl asked, returning to the scene. She was wielding a fire extinguisher in her hands like a club, dropping it as soon as she understood the situation. Rushing to Erin, she took her hand. “No matter. We’ve gotta get out, let’s talk later.”
What happened? Weren’t her powers supposed to be gone? Had she… killed them? Still in shock, she let herself be led by the blonde girl, the horror of the act slowly dawning on her.
There was a deafening crunch as the wall to their left shattered, dust and large pieces of concrete filling the air. Something impacted against Erin, something strong enough to actually hurt her—it knocked against the opposing wall, breath escaping her lungs as she collapsed onto the floor.
The figure that emerged through the dust was familiar despite the skin-tight black latex suit it was wearing. The figure’s pose was immediately recognisable to Erin, as was the curiously red hair.
“M-mom?”
Something was wrong with her, though. Her skin had an odd sheen to it, her expression emotionless like a corpse’s. Her eyes weren’t her own—they were mechanical mockeries, merely painted the same colour as her original blue ones. There was no sign of Scarlet Storm recognising her daughter; without another word, she rushed her again, grabbing her by her hair and slinging her against the ceiling.
There was no way Erin could win, and she knew it. Her mother was faster than her, stronger than her by a large margin. Hurt and disoriented, her nose shattered and bloody, she swallowed a bunch of concrete dust as she tried to breathe in and fell into a coughing fit. Feeling hands on her throat, she no longer even tried to resist. If she was going to die, so be it. She was hurt, weak and confused. She had already killed someone herself. Struggling seemed so pointless now. Her mother’s emotionless face was the last thing she saw before the darkness overtook her.
“I’m surprised everything went as planned.” Leonard admitted.
“More or less so. We even acquired a little something extra. You should be pleased, you have a new toy to play with.”
The mad doctor scratched his head, looking over at the blonde girl in the tube. She was probably a member of the Society, which implied powers of some sort. Before they figured out what they were, she would have to be kept unconscious. Taking needless risks with her ilk was a very foolish thing to do. He had plenty of experience with that. “It’ll be interesting, that’s for sure. The preliminary tests suggest that she’s not actually human—or, at least, her blood is not real blood. It transports oxygen, but the actual cells… it’s all very interesting.”
Vivienne nodded. “Just figure it out. We’ll see if we can use her. Now, for the girl…”
The girl. She had acted exactly like Vivienne thought she would, though Leonard supposed it wasn’t all too unexpected. She had been subtly manipulating her for days, reprogramming her, giving her ideas. Planting subtle triggers. She might’ve lacked his scientific genius, but she was very good with people. Frighteningly good. It made him uncomfortable. The girl’s overreaction, how she had killed those security officers, it had been basically perfect. It was the exact result Vivienne had been hoping for. Giving her back her powers on trigger was a nice touch and a risk he himself wouldn’t have dared to take.
The blonde agent’s intrusion had threatened to upset their plans, but he’d detected her little bugs just in time. With a little act, they had drawn her out and forced her to act—a risky move, but it was worth it. He had no idea how much she had known already, how much she had reported to others. Most likely, she hadn’t caught anything of real interest, but the risk was there. At least now she was theirs to interrogate.
As for Scarlet Storm, the test had been a success. She had been a little difficult to control, requiring some manual directions along with the software running in her brain, but it was a huge leap in the right direction. He had performed some quite extensive rework on her, replacing her entire nervous system amongst other things—the surgeries required had given her a slightly artificial look, but it seemed that Vivienne had liked that.
The woman really did freak him out. He couldn’t wait until he was out of there. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll just get back to work…”
Vivienne smiled as she looked down at the girl lying on the bed, spread-legged and nude. A black mask was covering her face, her limbs gently bound and locked in place. Bruises covered her otherwise flawless skin, and under that mask her nose was shattered, but it was all quite easy to fix. And it was an opportunity to give her some improvements, anyway.
She sat down onto the bed next to her, placing her slender fingers onto her exposed belly and gently stroking it. She knew the girl would find it extremely pleasurable; she knew she would hate it.
“Good afternoon, Erin.” She said gently, pausing as if to wait for a response. There would be none; the mask prevented the girl from speaking, though not from hearing what she had to say. “I apologise for the present circumstances. You must understand, though, we can’t risk you escaping again.”
She kissed her on her chest, right between her breasts. “Who’d have thought you could resist our control like that? To break free of the suppressive nanomachines, to fight back against their commands and to regain your powers. I’m afraid we have to keep you like this to prevent another incident happening.”
A blatant lie. Erin would believe it. The girl shifted a bit, tensing her muscles as the woman brought her fingers to toy with her nipples. “You must think I’m a monster, controlling you like this. Controlling your mother like this. But you must understand. You need to be controlled.” A pause. “You’re the monster here, not me. You killed those men. Their only crime was doing their job. You’re a murderer, Erin.”
Leaning closer to her ear, she whispered. “And your mother was a murderer too.”
Existential questions had never truly bothered Multiplying Girl. Some found her powers horrifying, equating the reabsorption of her copies with death. She had a carefree attitude about that, though; even if her copies disappeared, even if they actually died, the original would live on. Whenever she copied herself, she was always ready to sacrifice herself for the greater good—she had always considered herself expendable, in a sense.
Now though, the copy of Multiplying Girl sobbed, once again begging for death.
“No, no.” The balding man in front of her said, looking calm as he patted her cheek roughly with his gloved hands. “We both know you’re going to expire within a month or so. You’ll have to last until then… unless we can break you before that. Let’s hope that’ll happen, yes?”
There was something inside of her head. Something changing her thoughts, manipulating her, twisting her very identity. It felt wrong in a way nothing had before, her self slowly withering away and being replaced by something of Dr Leonard’s design.
“You’re just a copy. It won’t matter if we get a bit rough and damage your thought process a bit. The original should only inherit what we want it to.” Leonard said, rubbing his nose absent-mindedly. “Your powers are interesting, though. Have you ever tried using organic materials to make your copies with? I think there’s some room for experimentation there, though first we’ll need an access to the original.”
Little by little, the copy broke.
Multiplying Girl was waiting at her usual place at the corner of the car park, waiting for her copy to report back. This particular one had been silent for a long time, working on her investigation on Fathom. Nothing unusual, there—sometimes, it took weeks to hear any word from them. Sometimes she never heard back.
This particular one had supposedly uncovered a clue of some sort. A potential hint to Scarlet Storm’s location, related to one of Fathom’s many subsidiaries. Nothing major, she wagered, but it sounded like a genuine lead. That alone was better than what any of her other copies had managed to do.
The copy approached with a smile and a wave, the usual mischievous tinkle in her eye, a clothing bag hoisted on her shoulders. She started to undress as she approached her.
“Eager, aren’t we?” Multiplying Girl asked, grinning at the copy of hers.
The copy grinned back, letting herself to be taken into the embrace. “You bet.”
In retrospect, she probably should’ve noticed something was off. Was the copy’s smile a little weird? Was she just a bit too eager to be reabsorbed? Should she have interrogated her for a bit before taking her in? When did she get so careless, so used to the routine?
The fact that the copy was a Trojan horse was obvious from the moment she merged with her, her memories added to her own. Reabsorbing copies that had been away for long, that had learned a lot in their absence always gave her a bit of a headache, the subtle differences in the thought patterns giving her some confusion—but the copy she had absorbed this time wasn’t her. It was a half-mindless drone, designed to trap and incapacitate her.
In that it had succeeded. Multiplying Girl screamed as she fell on her knees, junk memories filling her mind. Whatever they had filled the copy’s head with was almost enough to throw her into a convulsive fit—irrational thoughts, random patterns and digits, orders she had a hard time not obeying. She had to wait there; they were coming to get her. She had to run…
The girl fainted, collapsing onto the ground.
Erin knew her mind was not her own. She knew the nanomachines inside of her were changing her, forcing her to think and feel the way she did right now.
She wasn’t sure if she should care.
Her mother was dead, or as close to it as it gets. She herself was a murderer. Though she still put up a token resistance, she knew she’d break eventually—she already had, once, letting the woman do as she pleased with her.
Once again she felt the vibrator slide into her, her surprised gasp blocked by the mask tightly pressed against her face. She felt Vivienne’s caressing touch, and it was the most amazing feeling in the world. If she could have pleaded for more, she would have.
“That’s right, your mother was a killer as well. Twenty years ago, when she was your age…” The woman pushed the vibrator slightly deeper, causing the girl tense up. “She killed someone, just like you did.”
Even through the pleasure, Erin’s mind was completely focused on Vivienne’s words. Everything she said felt important, the words planting themselves firmly into her mind. She knew it was just another effect of the nanobots inside of her, but it wasn’t something she could resist. It wasn’t even something she wanted to resist.
“My mother, in fact. I won’t lie and say she was a good person. She did something bad, and she paid for it. With her life.”
It did make sense. Erin’s mother had always emphasised the importance of a calm mind and rational behaviour. She had kept her isolated from conflict, testing her slowly as she grew up. Perhaps the rock-throwing exercise wasn’t a test of strength at all; perhaps it was a test of patience, a test of responsibility. But what did it matter? She had failed. In a fit of fury, as righteous as it might’ve felt at the time, she had killed those two men. For that, she deserved whatever was coming for her.
“The Society covered it up to protect her. Scarlet Storm was underage. She didn’t know her powers, didn’t understand the responsibilities. The death was deemed an accident, a result of my mother’s little experiment gone wrong. Your mother escaped unpunished…”
She kissed her on the neck, evoking a shiver of pleasure. “…Until now. She’ll serve me as a mindless drone, and her daughter will be my loving little killer…”
Even as Erin came, her body convulsing with pleasure, the words stayed firmly rooted within her mind.
“So she’s all finished, then.”
Dr Leonard nodded at her employer. “She responded to the treatments admirably well. She more or less fully retained her personality and memories despite how thorough the changes were. I’d say the nanomachines are ready to be used—though they’ll still need to be individually tailored, of course.”
Vivienne smiled, looking at the nude blonde lying on the examination table. She wasn’t bound. There was no longer need for that. “And her powers, will they do what you suspected?”
“Without testing it out first, I can’t really promise that. She had no idea either, she’d never tried it out. But I don’t think I’m wrong.”
There was an amused look on the raven-haired woman’s face. “So she has been holding herself back all this time? Or did she simply lack the imagination? Well, either way… can you wake her up?
“I can.”
“Then do it. I want to have a little chat with her.”
Leonard shrugged. Walking over to the keyboard, he did as the woman had asked. The girl woke up slowly, blinking and rubbing her eyes, sitting up awkwardly. For a moment, it didn’t look like she understood where she was—after her eyes fell on Vivienne, though, she lowered her head subserviently. “Ah…”
The woman smiled. “Sara, was it? Or would you prefer Multiplying Girl? Stand up, please.”
The girl obeyed with a slightly fearful expression, allowing Vivienne to look her over. “Either one is fine…” She said, flinching slightly as the woman touched her cheek.
“You have nothing to fear. You belong to me now, and I treat my toys well. Relax.”
There was a visible change in the girl’s behaviour, her tenseness rapidly melting away. A casual, lopsided smile grew on her face as she looked her mistress in the eyes. “Yes, I understand.”
“And you only obey me, do you not?” Vivienne asked, her smile growing just slightly at Sara’s eager nod. She turned to Leonard, offering her hand. “Fine work as always, doctor. Now, for your next assignment…”
Vivienne was a good liar and an excellent manipulator, but Leonard wasn’t born yesterday. He’d moved in circles where anyone was prepared to backstab anyone, he knew the risks his line of work involved. He didn’t take the hand—but he wasn’t fast enough to pull his back, either. The woman grabbed the doctor by the wrist and he felt a sharp pinprick on it. Cursing silently, stumbling backwards, he felt the sedative’s effects immediately; he was already losing his sense of balance, his extremities quickly growing numb.
Dr Leonard would’ve been a fool if he hadn’t seen something of this sort coming from miles away, though. He had prepared for something exactly like this, made a few choice additions to his prize project. “T-tearful hobnob!”
Nothing happened. Vivienne smiled.
“That was the key phrase to overriding her programming, I assume? Good to know, I suppose. I knew you wouldn’t have avoided the chance to install a little something extra into her. I might not have been able to figure out what, but blocking any signals coming out of this room was easy enough.”
Leonard’s legs gave in and he fell onto the floor, grimacing. He should’ve prepared more contingency systems. He hadn’t expected her to act quite this fast, he thought he’d still have time. “Y-you can’t do this…”
The woman paid little attention to him. “Sara. Please copy yourself over him the way you’d copy yourself over clay.”
There was a second of hesitation visible from the girl’s face, her smile wavering. Then, it was gone. She turned to Leonard and approached him. “Alright…”
“You… you need me, you need my mind…” He said, his tone desperate. The girl in front of her tore his lab coat open, spat on her hands and slid them under his shirt, against his bare chest. They felt warm, unnaturally so.
“We both know that’s untrue, Dr Leonard. The copy will have all your skills, all your knowledge, all your memories. More importantly, she’ll be actually loyal. Give me one good reason to keep you around.”
The man tried to protest. The copy might know what he did, but she wouldn’t have his genius, his inspired creativity. There was nobody in the world who could replace him. He was the one who had taken Scarlet Storm down! How could Vivienne not see that? No voice came out of his throat however, his body already changing.
The warmth enveloped him completely, the shirt feeling tight as his chest grew larger. His skin softened and whitened, his hair lengthened and took a golden hue. His waist widened; the very structure of his body was changing as if he were as malleable as clay.
Inside of his head, Leonard was being slowly erased. His personality was slowly being replaced, new memories overtaking his old ones, absorbing them and making them their own. The mad doctor fought back with everything he had until the very last droplet of his identity was erased from existence, his knowledge absorbed by the newly made copy.
Dr Leonard was no more. In her place was a smiling copy of Sara in an open lab coat.
Erin’s spirit had long since been crushed, her resistance carefully grinded down into nothing. The sensory deprivation was over, the girl returned to her room. Wearing nothing but her pajamas, she felt no need to dress into anything else. All she had to do was to wait.
There was a knock on the door. The scarlet-haired girl looked up, saying nothing. As it opened, an odd sight greeted her—Vivienne was followed by two girls, both identical to the one who had once tried to pointlessly rescue her. The two of them smiled a cheerful smile, their dimples visible. One of them had a syringe of some sort.
“Good afternoon, Erin.” Vivienne said, her voice ringing beautifully in the girl’s head.
She looked down. “Good afternoon, Vivienne.” She responded, unable to resist the need to do so. She was under her control, no longer any point in fighting back.
There was sympathy in the woman’s expression. “You poor thing. Broken and depressed. We’ll have you fixed up soon enough. Will you give your arm to these nice girls here?”
Erin obeyed, receiving her injection of the new nanomachines. They acted fast, spreading through her blood and beyond. She felt Vivienne’s hands caressing her, her head softly being lowered onto a pillow…
“I’ll trust you girls to oversee the surgeries according to my instructions. In the meantime, I’ll spend some time with her mind…”
Vivienne Valencourt had won. The murderer of her mother had been crushed and reduced to a mindless puppet, and her daughter was hers now. Her little pet, moulded to fit her tastes in both body and soul, loving her more than anything else in the world. If only Scarlet Storm still had her wits to her so she could taunt her with her victory over her. But, Vivienne supposed, you can’t gain everything in life. Perhaps there’s something left inside of the drone to understand the situation on some level, at least.
This was just the first stage of her plot, of course. Revenge wasn’t all that she had been after. She would continue her mother’s legacy, accomplish what she had once failed to. For that, Multiplying Girl would make an excellent asset. With her wits and training, her capability to assimilate others, her machinations could progress faster than she had actually anticipated.
Now, though, would be the time to enjoy herself and the fruits of her efforts. Opening the door to her private room within the facility, she smiled at the girl who was already eagerly waiting for her. “Welcome back, mistress.”
Erin met her smile with her own, giving a shy curtsey as a greeting. Wearing only black heels and a partially transparent silk nightgown, lingerie visible underneath it, there was little left for imagination. A golden collar necklace adorned her thin neck, a golden hairband keeping her straight scarlet hair tightly in its place. Her lips were red, as were her nails; there were dark highlights around her green eyes, intelligence and adoration plainly visible in them.
Gone were the bruises and the broken nose. The girl had received a whole body treatment—her skin was lighter and entirely hairless now, her chin and nose retouched to better reflect Vivienne’s standards of beauty. The distinct hair was left untouched; to Vivienne, it was almost like a trophy, the proof of her victory.
Erin’s powers had been returned to her, of course. She would still require some training and mental conditioning for her to be ready to be put to work, but until then there were other ways to make use of her.
“Thank you, Erin.” Vivienne responded, letting the girl take off her jacket and hang it before moving to kiss her on the lips. Erin responded with a sweet sigh, pushing her body tightly against the older woman’s. “Now… why don’t you help me undress?”
Erin wasn’t herself anymore. She had been taken away, broken and brainwashed, everything about her moulded to be the perfect pet for the raven-haired woman she was now busy pleasuring. Her loyalties, her values, even her sexuality had been redesigned from the ground up, her former self thrown away forever like a piece of trash.
She loved it. Vivienne was everything to her. Her master, her lover, her goddess. She’d die for her, she’d kill for her without any hesitation whatsoever. When she thought back to her old self, she almost wanted to laugh. What would the old Erin have said if she could see her like this, the perfect little minion for a woman as cruel and ruthless as Vivienne was? What would her mother have thought?
Sitting on the woman’s stomach, slowly disrobing and letting her have a good look of her lingerie-clad body, she knew she was enjoying herself at least as much as Vivienne was. The silky, black underwear contrasted her flawlessly pale skin, the red in her hair, lips and nails bringing a touch of colour into the whole—her body was a work of art, solely dedicated to her mistress. Leaning down, she took Vivienne’s breasts into her hands, lovingly kneading them and letting her wet, pink tongue run over them freely.
Vivienne had more experience, but Erin was eager to please her. Where she rushed too much, her mistress admonished her. Where she did well, her mistress praised her. She patiently taught the girl all the sensitive spots in her body, then gave her free reign over them.
Finally, with her mistress’ permission, Erin moved to her trimmed womanhood, kissing her lower lips before dipping her tongue in and drinking her wetness. Concentrating fully on being a good pet, she worked with her mouth and her fingers to bring her mistress pleasure. When Vivienne finally came, her body trembling in ecstasy, Erin felt fulfilled in a way she never had before.
Invited to lay her body on top of her mistress, she rested her head against her chest and breathed out calmly.
She had never been happier in her life.
