Fuchsia Fox: Temptation Eyes

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[Thiis story follows on the heels of "The Price of Doom". While not nearly as graphic, it does have a little more sexual content than your typical Fuchsia Fox story.]

Chapter 1 -- Fairfax County, Virginia

"Unit 12 to Dispatch! In pursuit of four suspects driving a green Ford SUV heading south on Columbia." Deputy Peter Briggs, keeping his hands firmly on the wheel of his cruiser, spoke urgently into the radio mike clipped to the collar of his uniform as he dodged in and out of the late afternoon traffic. "Request backup. Be advised these here fuckers are armed and dangerous!"

Just minutes ago, Briggs had responded to the sound of gunfire outside a pharmaceuticals warehouse. He found a gang of four men loading boxes into their SUV while shooting it out with security. Upon his arrival, the badguys had pulled out Scorpion submachineguns and sprayed the area, leaving three of the rent-a-cops wounded and four neat lines of bulletholes in the door of Briggs' cruiser. Then they had crashed through the rear fence and hightailed it with what loot they had.

"Copy, Unit 12," the radio replied. "Units 1, 14 and 7 are converging from Clearfield and Belvedere."

The chase was taking them into a rural area. The road dead-ended up ahead at another highway. Without even slowing down, the SUV shot through the traffic light and swerved right, running two smaller cars off the road.

"Ten-four, Dispatch," Briggs said, following them around the turn. "Suspects turning west on 238. Vehicle is a green SUV, license Charlie Victor OHSHIT!"

Two of the perps in the SUV had knocked out their own rear window and opened fire on Briggs. The view through his windshield disappeared in a spider web of cracks as bullets chewed up the hood of his cruiser, his car slewing out of control and plunging over the steep twelve foot embankment on the other side of the highway...

WHUMP! Suddenly the airbag deployed in his face as something caught the cruiser in mid air and gently set it back on the roadway. Seconds later something ripped his door completely off with a crunch of metal. "Are you OK?" a soft female voice asked.

Briggs just sat there stunned as adrenalin surged through his bloodstream. It was the Fuchsia Fox!

Maybe it was the shock of his close call, but Briggs could swear that a choir of angels was singing in his ears. The beautiful superheroine was in her early twenties, her nubile young body dressed in bright reddish purple briefs and halter top, with a fox head emblem stretched across the gentle contours of her bust. Her long traffic-stopping legs were bare except for matching ankle boots, her slender arms clad in elbow length gloves and a pair of gold bracelets. "Sir?" she asked again, her brown eyes looking directly into his as a breeze blew through her short brunette hair like a swimsuit supermodel's at a photo shoot. "Are you all right?"

Briggs somehow managed to nod, his mouth suddenly dry as a bone.

"Hang on," she said. "I'll be right back." And she seemed to vanish.

The deputy eased himself out of his cruiser. A hundred yards up the road, the green SUV came to an abrupt stop with a screeching of tires. The sound of heavy gunfire erupted, snapping Briggs back to reality. "Oh crap oh crap!" he muttered, drawing his sidearm and sprinting towards it.

It took him just under half a minute, but by the time he got there, it was all over. The criminals were disarmed, lying slumped together against the grass bank, with the Fuchsia Fox standing posed over them, the picture of feminine smugness, her arms crossed underneath her bust, one high heeled ankle boot tapping the hot asphalt as if daring them to move. Their weapons were stacked neatly in the back of their SUV (the door of which was torn off its hinges) amid a litter of spent bullet casings.

"You needn't have hurried, officer," the sexy superheroine smirked, raising one flawless eyebrow. "They're not going to give you any trouble. Are you, boys?"

The four brawny men, looking bruised and battered, quickly shook their heads.

Briggs holstered his gun and set about securing the prisoners. But as proof that his mind still wasn't entirely on what he was doing, his feet got a little tangled and he collided with the superheroine's soft, slyphlike frame.

This close, the alluring, feminine scent of her body washed over him, making his pecker immediately stiffen inside his regulation khaki trousers. Without thinking, he reached out to steady himself and his left hand somehow found and grabbed the Fox's exquisitely supple ass, his middle finger sliding down into the sweet valley in between her butt cheeks.

"Hey!" the superheroine blurted, jumping a little at the unexpected goose.

Ohshit, Briggs thought, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead and upper lip. I'm dead! "Er... Sssorry, ma'am... I just..."

"That's ok, officer," the Fox said with an impish wink. She knew that her skimpy costume enhanced her charms and made men drool over her, a fact she seldom allowed herself to take advantage of. But maybe... just this once...

"You can bump me any time," she added, taking a step closer, feeling a rush as the larger male backed away. I'm strong enough to pick up a patrol car, she thought, but that's not what intimidates him. It's my beauty and sexuality that scare him! The very idea sent a shiver of excitement through her lissome frame. It made her feel POWERFUL!

Closer she pressed, backing him against the SUV until her breasts were almost touching him, her nipples making tiny bumps in the thin fabric of her costume. The Fox's big brown eyes locked onto his seductively, holding him mesmerized as she reached down and put her hand in the crotch of his trousers. She felt him tense up in more ways than one. The muscles of his thighs locked, even while she could feel his boner expanding, growing hot and rigid with desire at the mere touch of her hand.

"Ooooh you're a big one, aren't you, stud?" she whispered, as her fingers unzipped his pants and slipped inside. The next instant she was stroking that long, HARD piece of man meat up and down through the fabric of his boxers.

Briggs licked his dry lips, sweat staining his shirt, a groan rumbling in his throat as she kept on massaging his throbbing, pulsating rod. All the blood seemed to drain away from his head and downward, gorging his tool as she pumped him relentlessly, driving him towards a climax. Any second he was going to shoot his wad right into his shorts!
The Fox smiled, savoring the thrill, the power of her sex to affect a man this way.

Sirens screaming, three more patrol cars suddenly braked to a halt and their drivers spilled out with drawn weapons. The Fox snatched her hand away with a gasp of alarm. What was she DOING? Touching, playing with a strange man's penis? And ENJOYING it? What had come over her? She looked up with horror and confusion at the deputy, who looked just as bewildered as he quickly zipped up (although a great deal happier).

The superheroine closed her eyes to get a grip on herself, and for an instant, another distant pair of eyes were staring unblinkingly into hers. Blue eyes like sapphires. Cold and aloof. But whose?

"Thanks a bunch, Fox," drawled Sheriff Cameron Poe, striding up to her side and breaking the spell. "We been after this gang a long time. You want to ride back with me and give me your statement?"

"Um... could I do that later, Sheriff?" the superheroine demurred. "I'm not feeling... that is... I've got to rush. Sorry." And without further explanation, she shot off into the late afternoon sky, still wondering what could have come over her.
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valugi
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This first chapter is going very well, I'm eager to see more of this story, it seems that we have a very horny fox
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Somebody is messing with Fox, good start.
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
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Yep, somebody is messing with her mind big time!

Chapter 2 --

A few minutes later, the Fuchsia Fox was miles away, in northwest Washington. Along the way she had found the privacy to change from her daring fuchsia costume into denim shorts and a loose tie-dyed top, completing the transformation from spunky superheroine to mild mannered history student Jennifer Traylor.

Walking along the street as dusk fell and the hot summer evening settled in, Jennifer couldn't help thinking about what had just happened. Could it have been some kind of mind control? Unlikely, she decided. The only encounter like that she'd had recently had been with an alien creature named Druj, and the range of his powers had been limited to sight. Her contact in the NSA assured her that he was under lock and key. Anyway, his eyes had been bright yellow and glowing, not sapphire blue.

Then again, Jennifer's fiancé had been on deployment in Afghanistan for six months, so it was possible she was just... you know... just a little bit horny. A blushing smile touched her face as she thought of Martin, so far away. The smile faded a bit when she remembered that he was in the land of Arabian Nights and harem girls. What sort of sexual delights was he getting up to, out of her sight?

Briskly Jennifer shook those thoughts aside as her steps brought her to the Internet café where her friends Sharon and Liz often hung out. At least they were there to give her support, to listen to her and commisserate. She pushed open the door, enjoying the sudden rush of airconditioning on her bare legs after the clammy summer heat outside. She could already see Sharon's blonde hair and next to her, Liz's mocha tinted skin. Both girls were leaning close to Sharon's laptop, talking to some guy via Skype.

"Martin, I don't know how to say this," Sharon was saying, "but Jennifer's been acting very strange lately. I think it started that weekend she spent in Capitol City."

Jennifer's smile faded. Quickly she ducked behind a square pillar so they wouldn't know she was eavedropping, as her fiancé's voice replied, "What do you mean by strange?"

"Do you know she's thinking about getting a tattoo?"

"No way!" Martin scoffed. "I tried to talk her into it once! She thinks tattoos aren't feminine. Even butterflies and roses."

"There's a girl who goes to our gym," Liz said. "She's got a track of tiger paws from her neck all the way to her bikini area. Jennifer was looking at her the other day. STARING at her! It was kind of creepy..."

"And later in the showers," Sharon said, "she walked right up to this girl and undid her towel so she could get a closer look! They stood there comparing the smoothness of their... well you know what I mean..."

"Are we still talking about MY Jen? The Jen that blushes when I give her a foot rub?"

"Martin, she's starting to scare me. It's like she's not herself!"

Jennifer felt her cheeks burning with anger. So this is what your best friends do, turn against you the minute your back is turned, make up LIES about you! And Martin was just as bad, playing along with them, encouraging them! Oh it's so obvious now! How could he have ever wanted plain ordinary Jennifer Traylor? All along he had really wanted Sharon the sexy blonde and Liz the exotic dusky beauty!

She heard someone laugh, and in her current state of mind, she knew it had to be the three of them, laughing at HER for being such a clueless little twit! No doubt they were planning a threesome for when Martin returned! And where would poor, stupid Jennifer be... left out in the cold?

Blinded by tears, she stumbled out the door and into the hot summer night. Not caring who saw, Jennifer clashed her gold bracelets together and said, "Ishtar!", instantly transforming herself into the Fuchsia Fox. Taking to the sky, she soared over the city heading north, desperately trying to clear her head. But even here she couldn't get away from it.

Even those cold, blue eyes were laughing at her.

***

Tucked into the corner of a squalid strip mall in between a Korean take out and a bail bondsman was a seedy club called "The L Zone". On this particular night, the dimly lit room held about a dozen men of various ages and descriptions. Some sat at the tables nursing drinks, others up close to the stage clutching wads of grubby dollar bills while they watched the blonde stripper dancing around the chrome pole in the spotlight. Loud hip-hop music was playing from hidden speakers.

It being a weeknight, Gregor the doorman was sitting idly by the bar with Stefan the bartender and Kyla the waitress who sometimes danced on weekends. When the door opened, the three of them looked up in case it was an underage kid. It was a girl instead, a brunette, dressed in a Fuchsia Fox costume.

The trio rolled their eyes. They had all seen strippers in the business who danced as "WunderGurl" or "Superpussy", but it would take a bold dancer indeed to parody D.C.s resident superheroine right here in her own stomping grounds! The owner of the club would probably not consider it worth the hassle. Although from here she looked pretty enough that he would surely hire her anyway.

Kyla, whose job it was to handle applicants and direct them to the owner's office in the basement, gave her a couple of minutes. Often when girls got their first real look at what the job entailed, they changed their minds. The girl just stood there, staring intently at the blonde on stage as she finished her set, scooped up her clothing and tips, and went backstage.

"Hi there, I'm Kyla! Are you by yourself?"

The girl turned. Her face was a picture of confusion, as if she wasn't entirely sure where she was or how she had gotten here. Up close, her costume didn't look like a cheap knockoff. And the girl herself was too beautiful for words! A chick like this could model for Victoria's Secret! What was she doing in a cruddy strip club?

Without saying a word, the girl brushed past Kyla and walked to the stage. The guys sitting at the stools perked up at the sight of the new talent, whistling and catcalling as she mounted the steps.

Kyla quickly dashed behind the bar and snatched up the direct line to the owner's office. "Anton?" she whispered. "There's trouble!... The FUCHSIA FOX, that's what!... For Christ's sake, don't you think I know a REAL superheroine when I see one?"

The voice on the other end sounded calm. "Keep your tongue behind your teeth and do nothing. Everything is under control."
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valugi
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The chapter is going well, just do not understand yet what is happening with heroin
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Never fear, my good friend. You are about to find out!

Chapter 3 --

The Fuchsia Fox climbed onto the stage, strolling over to the chrome pole and caressing it. Was this the kind of thing Martin wanted? It looked so easy, so simple. Slowly she let her body slide downward along the shaft, letting the smooth, cool metal rub against the skin of her neck and between her breasts. At the bottom, she flexed her knees and reversed direction, thrusting back upwards. The men at the bar leaned closer.

Suddenly, in perfect rhythm with the music still coming from the speakers, the Fox leaped upward, her exquisite legs straddling the pole as she spun around it in a graceful pirouette, seductively spiraling downward and landing on her feet.

Chairs scraped on the floor as the men watching her shifted their weight, guzzling down their drinks and calling for more. The men at the tables got up and moved closer. Gregor the doorman got a camcorder from behind the bar and started taping her. Jennifer was oblivious to it all as she copied the other dancer's routine. Hooking one shapely gam around the pole, she did another corkscrew, her lean body spinning backwards at arms length, her pert breasts thrust upwards. Those blue sapphire eyes were all she could see, boring into her very soul, urging her on.

Another sensuous twirl around the pole, this time inverted, with her spandex-clad tail in the air, ending in a slow forward cartwheel that left her crouched on the stage like a sexy cougar. By now the male oglers were crowding the edge of the stage, throwing money, encouraging her with lewd comments. "Yeah babe, bring it on!" -- "Show that booty, girl!" -- "Work it, Fox! Work it!" Even the club employees had forgotten everything else to stare.

Don't stop now, she thought. This is what he wants you to be -- his harem girl, his Salome, his seductress, showing off your body for him. You wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you?

Leaning forward, the Fox cupped her both hands underneath her breasts, gently lifting, letting the two supple globes squash against the fabric of her chest emblem. The oglers grinned and licked their lips.

Jennifer began to swing her hips back and forth, letting her body sway seductively in time to the music as she rose to full height. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached behind her to unfasten her straps. The skimpy garment went limp as she wheeled around, turning her back to her audience. Teasingly she wiggled her round ass at the men as she let her spandex top drop to the stage...

Oh Martin darling, Jennifer was thinking, lost in those sapphire eyes, is this what you want? Does this make you want me? Closing her eyes with abandon, she mounted the stripper pole again, giving another spin, only this time with her pair of tender coconuts completely bare and on display, her nipples hard with arousal. "Yeah sweet thing!" the men called. "Take it all off!"

Whirling to a stop at the base of the pole, the Fox crouched there for a moment on her knees. Rising upright, her hands followed the gentle curve of her sleek torso, caressing her perky B-cups and giving them a tender little squeeze. Her elbow length gloves were next, but first she had to remove her gold bracelets of Ishtar, placing them on the stage at her feet and not even caring that doing so left her completely defenseless. Then she slowly, seductively, she peeled off her gloves one at a time and dropped them while she stood, swaying back and forth in sync with the music.

The edge of the stage was now a solid wall of leering male faces and groping male hands, waving money and egging her on. "Take it off, baby! All the way!" Suddenly the Fox became aware of where she really was... on stage, doing a striptease for a roomful of strange men! A red blush of shame stung her cheeks like a slap in the face, but at this point she was too far gone to stop herself. Those sapphire eyes had robbed her of all self-control. She felt like a marionette with no will of her own.

Softly her hands retraced their path downwards along her body, fingers hooking into the waistband of her briefs. No! she thought, fighting to stop herself. NO! Please don't make me... I cccan't...

"All the way! All the way!" the men chanted. "All the way!"

Jennifer closed her eyes tightly, struggling to deny that any of this was happening. "Please..." she whispered, feeling the silken fabric of her pants as they slid over her hips, over her knees, and down the smooth skin of her calves. Bending forward in a crouch, the Fox trembled as she lifted her right ankle out of her panties, then her left. Her heart hammered in her chest as her fingers helplessly tossed the tiny spandex garment behind her. Apart from her ankle boots, she was utterly and completely naked!

The crowd suddenly parted as two men in suits pushed their way to the stage. "The Fuchsia Fox!" sneered the little stout one. "You have landed yourself in an interesting pickle this time, eh sweetness?"

"It was only a matter of time, Minsky," said the taller one with a shock of blond hair.

"Prokofiev?" the Fox gasped, her entire body quivering with fright as it dawned on her how totally vulnerable she was like this! Desperately the helpless superheroine dove for her bracelets of Ishtar, but the men were too fast for her. The Fox let out a strangled "Eek!" as the one called Prokofiev grabbed her lissome waist and easily overpowered her, his hands roaming at will over her smooth bare skin. "Let GO of me!"

"There's no point in fighting, angeltits," the Russian laughed, watching her breasts jiggle as she struggled ineffectually in his grasp. "You and I both know that you're no match for a man without those precious bracelets."

"Hee-hee-hee," Minsky sniggered, as he picked up the Fuchsia Fox's discarded costume.

The Fox squirmed with humiliation at the very thought of that slimy little toad getting his hands all over her panties and halter top, much less her bracelets. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized that, practically naked and stripped of her powers, her weak feminine struggles were worse than useless. Her pussy quivered as she bowed to the inevitable. "Please," she begged, "what are you going to do to me?"

"That's not for me to decide, angeltits," Prokofiev said, and then he picked up the Fox and slung her slender body across his shoulder. "Kyla, collect this money off the stage! No point letting it go to waste!" Then, with the helpless superheroine kicking her long legs in futile protest, he pushed his way back through the crowd, with Minsky bringing up the rear.

The two Russians carried the Fox across the room and down a flight of stairs. In the basement, a strong metal door slid open at their approach, letting them into a richly decorated office. The concrete floor was partially covered by a plush red carpet. An antique but much used desk stood in front of shelves of books and videotapes. Behind it, a high backed executive chair was turned toward the wall, its occupant unseen.

The Fox was unceremoniously dumped onto the carpet. The captured heroine lay there sprawled face down, whimpering as Minsky laid her clothes on the desk and Prokofiev took up a position near the door. There was a creak of leather as the chair turned around.

"So nice to see you again, devochka," said a silky female voice with a heavy Russian accent.

Jennifer gasped in alarm as she looked up and saw the middle-aged blonde woman wearing a green double breasted suit. Major Zennakova? But... but she was--

The woman's sapphire blue eyes smiled as if she knew exactly what Jennifer was thinking. "Surely you did not think that I was dead?"
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valugi
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Great chapter, my favorite villain the history of fox returned
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Chapter 4 --

The Fuchsia Fox cowered on the floor in a semi-prone position, her arms holding her torso partially upright while her legs curled beneath her. Nude, stripped of both her costume and her powers, she felt completely helpless in the hands of her enemies.

"H-how?" she stammered. Major Zennakova had last been seen plunging into the waters of the Tidal Basin during a tornado she herself had created when the Rod of Ishtar had gone out of control! They had searched for her body for hours!
(For the whole story, see "Mayhem on the Mall" http://superheroineforum.com/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=17790)

"How did I survive?" the Russian villainess said, crossing her shapely silken legs. "I must have reached an aqualung in the wreckage of my escape boat, and from there swum into the storm drains. That is where Prokofiev found me days later, injured, barely alive. For months I lay a helpless amnesiac, not even knowing who I was."

Zennakova leaned forward, planting her elbows on the desk as she clasped her hands together. "Then I began to feel things. Brief, voyeuristic glimpses of your daily life... showering, dressing, undressing, even having sexual relations with your young man. Just between the two of us," she added with a smile, "he has quite an amazing cock, does he not?" Jennifer squirmed on the floor, her stomach churning with disgust at the idea of being invaded this way.

"The implosion must have somehow enhanced by formidable mental powers," the villainess continued. "I found myself linked to the mind of my most hated enemy, and yet powerless. I could do nothing but watch your most intimate secrets unfold before me."

Zennakova stood up and walked around the antique desk, the miniskirt of her green suit swirling around her creamy thighs as she planted her legs, towering over the fallen heroine. "Then something happened to you in Capitol City. When Doomstrike defeated you, humiliated you... at last I was able to break through your mental barriers. From that moment, I could influence you, little by little. Which leads us to where we are today, with the vaunted Fuchsia Fox my helpless prisoner."

The Fox gulped, goosebumps rising on her skin as she considered the sheer hopelessness of her situation. Prokofiev and Minsky were standing behind her by the door, smiling at the wonderful view they were enjoying of her naked little tail and ready to overpower her if she so much as moved. The mere presence of men made her pussy feel exposed and vulnerable. Without her super powers, there was nothing she could do but beg for mercy. "Please, Major! I tried to save you! I... I really did!"

The villainess ignored her. "As of this moment," she sneered, "your life as a superheroine is finished! Now you will work for ME... performing every night for men, taking off your clothes for the money they throw at you. And if you are very, very good, I may even rent you out for private parties."

The Fox felt her face flush with shame at the very idea of being forced to prostitute herself. "I may be helpless, but I'll never submit to your twisted desires!"

"Oh such pride!" the older woman laughed. "Devochka, do you think that anyone CARES? The American public with its fifteen minute attention span? Your friends? They already think you are a slut! They will not be surprised when Jennifer Traylor drops out of school and disappears. Your young man, halfway around the world? He thinks with his penis! Toss him another piece of tail and he will forget that you ever existed!"

"NO! Don't say that!" the Fox protested, forgetting where she was as she surged to her feet in a hot rush of anger. Prokofiev and Minsky immediately grabbed the helpless superheroine's arms and held her captive, watching her supple little breasts and tight little ass jiggle as the girl struggled in vain. "He wouldn't do that! Martin LOVES me!"

"Men are all the same!" Zennakova countered. "They only want pretty sex toys!" She reached behind her, picking up the Fox's halter top and fondling the thin material around her chest emblem. "He loves your alluring little costume, not you... the magic fabric that makes you irresistible! Without this, do you think he would look at you twice?"

"Th-that's a lie!" Jennifer whimpered, a flood of tears welling in her eyes. "I w-won't listen!" But lie or not, it cut straight to the heart of her long-standing insecurity. All too well she could remember the days when he had only had eyes for the sexy Fuchsia Fox, and barely noticed Jennifer Traylor.

The Russian smiled, knowing that the dagger had struck home. "At best he loved the idea of screwing a superheroine! The bragging he must have done to other men! When the Fuchsia Fox simply vanishes from sight... well, there will always be other little tramps who love to parade their butts in spandex tights. Give him two weeks and he won't remember your name."

"Nnoooo!" Jennifer sobbed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. "Please don't... don't... say that..." She wanted to cover her face, but the henchmen still held her helpless, powerless to hide her weeping. Her body seemed to collapse in on itself, sinking to her knees as the henchmen released her. Zennakova watched her cry, delighted with her complete victory.

"What should we do with her, major?" asked Prokofiev softly.

Zennakova haughtily turned on her heel. "Tie her up and put her in the extra room. No special precautions need to be taken. As long as hold her costume, she'll be quite docile. And send Kyla down to me. We must make plans about our new performer."

***

For the tenth time the phone rang. For the tenth time it went straight to voice mail. That tears it, Martin thought. No matter how mad she was, she'd have answered by now. She's in trouble! With a heavy heart, he hung up the phone.

Hoisting his musette bag on his shoulder, he waited for his chance and slipped through the doors of the hangar. Outside on the flight line, the piercing whine of jet engines shrieked in his ears as he walked across the tarmac straight to the rear hatch of the cargo plane. The trick, he thought, is to act like you belong here. If you look for one second like you're trying to sneak on board, your ass is grass. Quick strides took him up the incline and into the belly of the plane...

"Hold up there, Captain!" said one of the flight crew, looming in the dim interior. He was a tall man with a loud voice, and as he got a closer look, his face broke into a broad smile. "Well, how you been, Fletch?" he boomed. "Haven't seen you since that night in Marrakesh!"

"I'm hanging in there," Martin replied more quietly. "Listen, Paul, you got an extra seat you can let me have? I've got to get back to the States, fast."

"Sure thing, Fletch. We got a couple of space a's. Ah, let me see your travel papers, just so I can say I checked 'em over."

Fletcher grimaced as he scratched his ear. "Um... that's the thing, Paul," he said. "You have to look the other way on this one."

"Are you crazy?" the other man blurted. "Going A--" Looking around, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Going AWOL from a combat zone? They catch you and its a one way ticket to Fort Leavenworth, my friend. And me alongside you!"

Fletcher took a deep breath. "Paul, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I need this. Are you going to help me or not?"
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valugi
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The chapter is getting very good, looking forward to see more
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Chapter 5 --

Saturday night at The L Zone, the weekday crowd had swollen to nearly forty as word got around that a new act was making its debut -- "Wonder Kyla and Foxtacular Girl".

The regular girls kept the men entertained through the early evening, but by ten o'clock even these jaded patrons were getting restless. Kyla could hear them from the dressing room as she checked her makeup and her long nutbrown hair in the mirror. She was wearing tight blue star-spangled briefs and a red and gold tube top snugged across her firm, bountiful C-cups. As accessories she had on red high heels, a pair of blue nylon wrist bands and about ten feet of yellow clothesline... her "magic lasso"! Kyla let out a heavy sigh and prayed to God that Wonder Woman never heard about this...

Feeling a stab of guilt, she glanced over at the Fuchsia Fox, sitting listlessly in the next chair. If Kyla didn't know better, she would never have believed this was the same superheroine who had walked into the club three days ago. Without her costume, she looked like just a regular girl you would never notice on the street. Kyla had done her best to help with her makeup and hair, trying to get that mousy brown mop to vaguely resemble those fabulous brunette tresses she remembered. Not that it would matter to the testosterone-besotted pervs out front... not so long as they saw enough skin.

The Fox was wearing a parody of her costume -- a fuchsia-colored nylon camisole held up by thin spaghetti straps, decorated with a fox-head applique Kyla had hastily sewn on. Along with her matching thong panties and high heels, Kyla thought she looked pretty good. Once again she felt a twinge of remorse, thinking of the act they had rehearsed. If she ever gets her powers back, she thought, she's going to KILL me...

At 10:15, a spotlight stabbed the dimness of the main room, lighting up the stripper pole as rock music erupted from the speakers. In sync with the staccato drumbeat, "Wonder Kyla" strode quickly onto the stage, long legs making her hips sway in an exaggerated bump as she spun around the pole and struck a pose, cocking her shapely, star-spangled booty with a sultry look at the audience. The men ate it up, whistling and catcalling.

"Foxtacular Girl" followed, her sleek young body looking hot in her skimpy fuchsia lingerie. Dominated by Major Zennakova's mental control, the Fox was fully aware of what she was doing, but too cowed and dispirited to resist. She let her body go through essentially the same moves, only adding a little pirouette, ending half-crouched in a fighting stance.

Martin Fletcher, standing unobtrusively by the bar, felt his jaw drop at the sight of her. His right hand clutched at the Zumerian communications crystal he had picked up from Jennifer's father, whose alien technology had enabled him to home in on her bracelets. He wanted to rush the stage, but something held him back. What was Jen doing in a sleazy dive like this? Surely she couldn't be doing this willingly? Could she?

The beat of the music changed as, onstage, both girls turned towards each other, locking their hands together in a mock battle. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" the men chanted as the two "heroines" began twisting their sensuous, barely-clad bodies back and forth in a seductive wrestling match.

Kyla maneuvered the Fox so that her back was to the crowd, giving the men the full benefit of her thong panties, her glistening legs spread wide as her buttocks flexed. After a few seconds, the Fox broke free of their clinch, and with two slow motion "punches" drove the other girl back to the pole. Pinning her against the cold chrome shaft, she took hold of Kyla's tube top and yanked it up over her arms, tossing it aside!

The men howled at the sight of Kyla's gorgeous melons jiggling free. She ducked the next "blow", using the pole to twist around and lock her legs around the Jennifer's waist. The girls went down, sprawling on the stage. Kyla caught the Fox in a headlock, turning her around to give the audience a good look at her chest, fondling the rounded shapes of her firm little coconuts jutting out against the thin nylon fabric of her camisole, her nipples visible as tiny bumps of arousal. A moment later, she had grabbed the bottom hem of the camisole and stripped it off, leaving both girls naked from the waist up as the catfight continued.

Men crowded the edge of the stage in a virtual feeding frenzy as Kyla wrapped her "magic lasso" around the Fox's naked torso, tying her to the pole. "All the way!" they chanted, "All the way!" Unnoticed, Fletcher ground his teeth together.

Sitting on her butt against the metal pole, pretending to struggle against the "magic lasso", the Fox felt Zennakova's mental control relax. The young heroine squirmed with a sudden rush of shame, surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of lecherous, randy men. Kyla was squeezing the Fox's firm, naked titties, fingers raking her hard nipples and sending quivers of pleasure rippling through her nubile body. "Please... please don't..." Jennifer whispered, as Kyla leaned closer and their lips met in a kiss.

The men showered them with money. "All the way! All the way!"

Jennifer looked up at Kyla imploringly, her lips trembling, brown eyes shimmering with tears. Kyla looked away, feeling sorry for the other girl. At least she, Kyla, had chosen this lifesytle, not had it forced upon her. But sympathetic or not she had no choice but to go through with it. Her hands moved downward, seizing the Fox's skimpy little panties and pulling them down her long, silken legs.

As the gawking men shouted their approval, Kyla spread the Fox's shapely gams to completely expose her womanhood to the crowd. She kissed her on the mouth again and again, while her fingers sensuously caressed her creamy inner thighs, feeling their way toward her snatch. "Nnnno... please no... this is wrong," the Fox moaned, trembling with lust as Kyla stroked her tender, pink pussy lips, fingers massaging her clit. Heat was rushing through her like a tide, building, surging restlessly.

The Fox's glistening body felt hot and flushed all over, partly from the unwanted sexual climax she was powerless to resist, but mainly from the humiliation of being forcing to submit to this indignity in front of spectators. Oh when will it be over? the once-proud superheroine moaned, choking back a sob as she thought of an endless future of being put on display like this night after night at Zennakova's bidding.

Fletcher took a step forward, ready to charge the stage, when suddenly the communications crystal grew warm in his hand, and a female voice spoke directly inside his head.

"What is it, Mr. Fletcher?"

He had no idea how telepathy worked, so he spoke out loud, knowing that with what was going on onstage, nobody would give a damn for some jerk talking to himself. "Ishtar!" he seethed. "Nice of you to finally get to me."

"I have other duties besides watching over your backward little planet," the Zumerian commander replied coldly. "What is it?"

"Can you see through my eyes? Can you see where I am?"

A sigh whispered through his head. "You are in some kind of primitive entertainment establishment," Ishtar said indifferently, "watching women perform naked. It's disgusting, but that does not surprise me. You are a man, after all."

"Look again!"

There was a pause. This time Ishtar's voice sounded furious. "Is that Jennifer? What have you done to my daughter, Mr. Fletcher?"
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valugi
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the story is getting better and better
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Centurion
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I'm so happy you're still following along!

Chapter 6 --

Suddenly a stout, bald man with a Russian accent accosted Fletcher suspiciously. "Who are you talking to, buckaroo?"

"What?" Fletcher said, pretending he couldn't hear over the music. "Talking to who?"

"That's what I asked you," Minsky said. "Are you wired or something? You wouldn't be Vice Squad, wouldn't you?"

"Me? Nahhh!" Fletcher said, dumping the crystal into the pocket of his grubby field jacket to free his hands. "It's just... ya know... since Operation Enduring Freedom I have a thing about crowds... ya know?"

"No, I do not know," Minsky said unsympathetically, pulling a Marakov automatic pistol from his coat and gesturing toward the back room. "Let's move, cowboy."

Fletcher shot a glance in that direction, but it would take him away from Jennifer. To Hell with that! He jumped the stout guy before he could raise the Marakov, driving a fist into his paunchy gut. Two more punches sent him lurching into a table full of spectators. The doorman came at him from the other side, but Fletcher caught him with an armlock and spun around, slamming his elbow into the back of the man's head.

The men mobbing the stage barely noticed the fight going on behind them. Fletcher pulled his .45 from its shoulder holster, but in the dimness of the room nobody seemed impressed. Firing a couple of rounds into the ceiling got their attention, though. Everything stopped for the space of about two seconds, and then the crowd parted like magic as they all made a rush for the exits.

Fletcher jumped onto the stage, where the two naked girls were frozen in the spotlight, huddled together in shock while music still blared unheeded from the speakers. Kyla stared at the gun, wide-eyed with fear, but Fletcher only had eyes for Jennifer. Quickly he pulled off the loosely draped "lasso" and hauled the girl to her feet. "Jen? Are you all right?"

"M-m-martin?" she replied shakily, her soft nude body molded against his, clutching at him for support as helpless tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hang on, Angel," he breathed, peeling off his field jacket with his other hand. "I'll get you out of this..."

Gunshots boomed. Kyla screamed and dropped flat. Half out of his field jacket, Fletcher pushed Jennifer off the other side of the stage, covering her with his body while he returned fire almost at random. His free hand groped for the Zumerian crystal.

"A little help would be appreciated, Ishtar," he said out loud.

"What do you suggest?" the telepathic voice responded testily. "I'm fifty light-years away from you! Even if I weren't, we have LAWS, Mr. Fletcher. I'm not allowed to directly interfere with primitive cultures."

"Now she tells me," he muttered, casting about for options. Their best bet was back stage, where there was bound to be a rear exit. Jennifer was whimpering with fear. As long as she didn't completely freeze up on him...

Bundling Jennifer into his coat, Fletcher popped up and fired four shots in quick succession at the gunman. He had to half-carry her up the steps, but they had actually made it to the relative safety of the wings before some invisible force grabbed him and tore him away from her. Fletcher was picked up and hurled thirty feet to slam into solid oak bar. His gun dropped from his hand as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Good evening, young man," said Major Zennakova, her miniskirt whispering around her thighs as she stepped from behind the bar. "So nice of you to join us."

***

Prokoviev and Minsky held everyone under guard in Zennakova's basement office. Kyla and the Fox were wearing short, silk dressing robes. Fletcher was on his knees, his wrists handcuffed in front of him. Zennakova had taken one look at the Zumerian communications crystal and instantly divined its purpose. She put it in a wooden box and sat the box on the shelf behind her desk like a trophy... right next to the Bracelets of Ishtar!

Fletcher felt his pulse quicken at the sight of them. He risked a glance at Jennifer, but she didn't return the look. Her head was down, her shoulders sunk in dejection, as if she had been completely broken.

A tone suddenly sounded from nowhere. Zennakova pressed a hidden button and the bookcase slid back, revealing another room full of communications equipment. A skinny little man with a nose ring hurried forward and handed her an iPad. "Urgent, Major. Our informant in the Baltimore police tells us they are getting close to our Hill Street warehouse. And the buyers will be here tomorrow!"

"We need to move the goods tonight," Zennakova said, reading from the iPad. "Stage a gang shooting near the waterfront to draw attention. Put them in the Clancy Street warehouse. Prokofiev, handle it." The tall man with the blond buzzcut nodded.

"How convenient it is that you turned up, young man," Zennakova continued, looking directly at Fletcher. "I was just thinking what a distraction it was going to be keeping your ladyfriend under control. Now I can simply hold you as a hostage for her good behavior."

"What do I care?" Jennifer said gloomily, without looking up. "He doesn't love me. You said so yourself."

"But YOU still love HIM, devochka," said Zennakova, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. "Do not think that you can hide your feelings from me."

"Well you're WRONG!" Jennifer shouted, looking up. "It's all his fault I'm in this mess! It was only through my feelings for him you were able to get your hooks into me! My mother was right! Falling in love makes you vulnerable! It means nothing but disaster!"

"Jen?" Fletcher said, flinching like a puppy hit on the nose by a rolled up newspaper. "You don't... you can't mean that?"

"I DO mean it!" she seethed, anger seeming to boil out of her suddenly. "Do you have any idea what I've been through? I HATE you! I never want to look at you again!"
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valugi
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the things are getting pretty complicated for our heroine and her relationship
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RedMountain
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Will be interesting to see if their relationship survives this, the Fox has definitely changed over the last few stories, and just another reminder who romances with superheroes are rather complicated.
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Centurion
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I appreciate the feedback, both of you! I forgot that I was going to be on vacation last week, and that's why I didn't post the final chapter then...

***

Chapter 7 --

Fletcher sagged as if all the air had gone out of him. "Jen... You don't understand! I came back for you! I came all the way from--"

"Oh spare me the drama!" Jennifer spat. "I heard you with Liz planning your little chocolate nookie party!" She rounded on him, so angry that she didn't seem to notice the front of her robe hanging partly open, giving Prokofiev and Minsky a tantalizing glimpse of her tits. "What happened? Did your little black storm get tired of your whining, too?"

Fletcher recoiled as if he had been slapped. Black Storm? What the hell--? His brain reeled a little as his thoughts went back almost two years to that powerful supervillain. Intent on his personal vendetta against the Fox, he had taken Martin prisoner. In order to rescue him, Jennifer had resorted to a ruse, pretending to be beaten to lure the villain in and catch him off guard...

"That does it, princess!" he hissed, rising awkwardly to his feet. "I've had it with this aristocratic attitude! I do my best to please you, but I have to kiss your ass just to get a piece! Like a mere human isn't good enough for the high and mighty Daughter of Ishtar!"

"OH! Well, there's the door, chump!" Jennifer shouted, undoing the knot in her robe. "And by the way, here's one LAST LOOK at what you're NOT going to be getting any more of!" She stood with her legs spread as she opened the robe WIDE. Zennakova's henchmen openly grinned and licked their lips at the sight of her full frontal, including her sweet, juicy muff!

Fletcher took full advantage of the distraction by suddenly whirling around and clocking Prokofiev right on the chin with both fists. The tall Russian snapped his head back, reaching into his coat for a gun, but Fletcher plowed headfirst into his midsection, slamming him against the wall and hoisting him across his shoulders. Minsky belatedly drew his Marakov, but Kyla screamed and blundered into his way before he could fire. Muttering a curse, the stout henchman pushed her aside just as Fletcher spun back the other way, driving Prokofiev's feet like a windmill into the side of his face.

Zennakova uncrossed her legs and stood up, trying to focus her telekinetic powers on restraining Fletcher without getting her own men. "Don't try it!" Jennifer shouted, leaping across the desk with her loosened robe flapping. The two women toppled against the bookcase, arms entwined together in a desperate frenzy. Then the Russian beauty caught Jennifer's wrists, overpowering the younger girl and forcing her down. Jennifer's skimpy robe fell open, leaving her smooth body exposed and vulnerable as Zennakova pinned her flat on her back against the desk with herself on top.

"Devochka," she sneered, looking down at the girl, "surely you do not think that you are a match for me without your powers!"

Jennifer felt completely helpless, her soft breasts in full view, her legs held in place by Zennakova's legs, their bodies rubbing against one another. Prokofiev and Minsky managed to get the upper hand over Fletcher, and were taking turns punching him. While less than three feet away, Jennifer's bracelets were on the shelf in plain sight... so close and yet so far! "I'm getting..." she grunted, "a little TIRED... of you calling me that!"

Suddenly Kyla jumped Zennakova from behind, snaking one arm across the female villain's chest as she applied a half nelson. "Let her go!" the girl cried, as her robe fell open revealing the star-spangled panties she was still wearing. They both overbalanced and tumbled to the floor.

Jennifer wasted no time being astounded at Kyla's audacity. She leaped for the shelf and grabbed her bracelets. "ISHTAR!" The flimsy robe she was wearing disintegrated instantly in the burst of energy that engulfed her smooth, naked body, lighting up the entire room. As she hovered in mid air, shining like a nova, her costume appeared around her... halter top, briefs, ankle boots and gloves. Then the brilliance subsided.

Prokofiev and Minsky, holding Fletcher's battered body upright between them, took one look at the Fox, glowering angrily down at them like some vengeful goddess, and scrambled for the door.

Zennakova and Kyla huddled together on the floor where they had fallen, speechless with awe. "Mother of Mercy!" Kyla gasped, feeling very small and helpless. "I had no idea..."

The Fuchsia Fox let her feet touch down on the floor and strode slowly toward Zennakova. Beads of blue flame danced around her bracelets like eager hounds as the superheroine's fists clenched and unclenched. Her body remembered every humiliating detail of the things she had been forced to submit to over the last few days. But only one thought was in her mind... payback!

"Fox?" It was Fletcher's voice. "Don't do it, Angel. Please?"

"Stay out of this, Martin," she said without turning, her brown eyes boring into Zennakova's cold sapphire eyes like drills. "You have no idea what she did to me!"

"Yeah, I know," he winced, easing himself down into a sitting position. He was bruised all over where the henchmen had waled on him, even felt like a couple of ribs were cracked. "I wasn't here. You probably have every right to settle the score. Only... please don't. Show me that you're still my Angel. Show me that she didn't turn you into a monster like her."

For an agonizing moment, everything froze. Then the blue flame subsided. Kyla let out a sigh of relief.

Zennakova gestured, and the solid oak desk suddenly slid across the floor aimed directly at Fletcher! The Fox reacted in a heartbeat, throwing herself between the projectile and the man she loved. For a minute there was a battle as the nubile superheroine's sinewy body strained against the Russian's mental prowess. Then with a CRACK! the oak split in two, the desk falling in fragments.

"Doh zvedanya, devochka! Until we meet again!" With a swirl of her miniskirt, Zennakova was through the entrance to the communications room, as the bookcase slid shut to cover her escape. Kyla crawled into the corner, expecting the Fuchsia Fox to tear the room apart getting to her, but to her surprise the stunning superheroine gently dropped to her knees, tenderly cradling the wounded man who had come to her rescue.

"Are you all right, Martin?"

"I am now that you're here, Angel."

***

Kyla hung up the telephone with a resigned sigh. "The police will be here shortly." Gregor and Stefan were sitting facing each other around the chrome stripper's pole, their wrists lashed together with her "magic lasso". The Fox had allowed the other dancers to leave, since according to Kyla they hadn't known that the club was a front for a weapons smuggling operation.

Giving the belt of her skimpy robe a tug, Kyla held out her wrists. "Are you going to arrest me, too? I deserve it, for what I did."

The Fox's warm brown eyes seemed to search her very soul. "Not this time. Provided you spill your guts to the police when they get here."

Kyla nodded. Watching Fletcher putting his arm so gently around the Fox's gorgeous waist was a bit surreal, remembering the vicious argument the two of them had had earlier. That had clearly only been a trick to throw the guards off balance, but still...

"I'm sorry Zennakova got away," Fletcher said. "I'd hate to think about going through all this again."

"No way," the Fox said. "Now that I'm forewarned, if she tries to get in my head again, I'll know it for what it is."

"Jen..." Fletcher began. "What you said earlier... about loving me making you vulnerable. Did you mean that?"

"Martin," she said, leaning against him, "I was trying to keep the henchmen's eyes on me, to give you a chance to make your move."

"Yeah, I know that," he said. "But... did you mean it?"

The Fox bit her lip. "You're hurt!" she cried, suddenly noticing his bruises. "We need to get YOU to a hospital!"

"I'm good," he sighed. "I'm sure they have doctors at Fort Leavenworth. Oscar can cover for me to a point, but unless you know a way I can get back to Afghanistan like right now..." He hadn't forgotten that he was still AWOL.

"Er... sorry hon," Jennifer said sheepishly. "I can still only fly about a hundred and fifty miles an hour. Afghanistan..."

Without warning a shimmering effect lit up the room. An incredibly beautiful woman with long brunette hair suddenly materialized, wearing a sexy blue full body suit.

"Ishtar!" Fletcher cried.

"Mother!" the Fox cried.

"Mr. Fletcher!" the woman scowled. "What have you been doing to my daughter?"

The Fox threw herself into the woman's arms and hugged her. "That's a long story, mother. Hey Martin! Problem solved! My mom happens to have an interstellar spaceship! She can have you there yesterday!"

>>>>>>>>The End
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valugi
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The ending was very good, I am waiting for a next history of our dearest fox
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Centurion
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I'm glad you liked it. As far as the last couple of stories go, a certain person has been encouraging me to move a little out of my "comfort zone", but I'm afraid I'm not straying very far. I've been trying to think of something dangerous for Halloween, but coming up a little short so far. Any ideas?
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RedMountain
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Great ending, and loved the communication between them and using the argument as a ruse to throw off the villains!
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