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[Some time back, I got a PM asking for more girl-on-girl wrestling in my stories. I begged off at the time because personally I don't think I'm good at that kind of thing. I have lots of female villains, but I generally prefer the rough physical stuff done with a male attacker. In this story there's a bit of both... girl-on-girl fighting, mixing it up with henchmen, plus some girl-on-girl sex in Chapter 5, if you like that kind of thing.
A word of warning... a few months ago when I originally decided to do my wedding story, I had two different ideas to chose between. I decided on the Alien Invasion, which became "Til Death Do Us Part". This is the other idea. I thought about it and decided that with a few changes, I could still use it. So don't be put off by the way chapter 1 begins; it will make sense shortly.]
Fuchsia Fox: "Nemesis"
Chapter 1 --
Golden sunlight poured in through the stained glass windows of the wedding chapel, breaking into multicolored rays that seemed to flow through Jennifer Traylor's body, lifting her off her feet. The mellow tones of the organ playing "Here Comes the Bride" seemed to throb in the air. It was no exaggeration to say that Jennnifer felt lighter than air, her heart aflutter with conflicting emotions as she looked down the long central aisle, her brunette tresses lying softly on her bare shoulders.
At the end of the aisle, Martin was waiting for her by the altar, looking scrumptious in his U.S. Army full dress uniform. Her best friends Liz and Sharon were also there, along with her step-sister Ashley, all three in lavender bridesmaids dresses. Among the guests were Artie Zuniga and Dr. Gervais from the Smithsonian. Every person she knew seemed to be present. A sudden pressure on her satin-gloved arm called her attention to her father, escorting her on her right. "Don't be nervous, sweetheart," he said. "It's going to be all right." She squeezed back, noticing the reddish-purple elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Her smile faded. Purple? What had happened to her white wedding dress?
Jennifer looked down and felt an almost electric jolt of surprise when she saw that she was dressed in her Fuchsia Fox costume, complete with her golden power bracelets! Her upper torso was sheathed in a form-fitting halter top with her famous fox-head emblem across the gentle swell of her nubile young bust. Further down, past her lean, bare midriff, she was wearing nothing but matching briefs and ankle boots. She couldn't get married dressed like this! Apart from the fact that her costume's skimpiness was completely inappropriate, her secret identity would be totally compromised!
"Dearly beloved," the minister was saying, "we are gathered here to bear witness to the joining of these two people, Jennifer and Martin, in Holy Matrimony. If anyone present has just cause why this couple may not be so joined, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."
Jennifer's mind was all awhirl. She couldn't go through with this! She couldn't put aside her commitment to being a superheroine to become Martin's wife! What was she thinking? She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Try as she might, she couldn't say a word...
"I OBJECT!" someone shouted in a voice that sounded like thunder.
The double doors at the rear of the chapel burst open as a figure in a skin-tight black catsuit appeared. It was a woman, judging from her curvy silhouette and ample bustline -- like a living shadow, a sleek, menacing female shape. She wore a helmet covering her entire face, leaving only a pair of eyes like bright blue lasers, with great devil's horns jutting upward on either side. She strode calmly down the center aisle of the chapel, her elegant legs whispering in the silence, a forked tail flicking behind her. The wedding guests stood frozen in horror.
"This little girl," the intruder challenged, stopping halfway down the aisle, "is a traitor to her own kind. She has turned her back on her people, disowned her heritage, ignored the wishes of her own mother. And for what? For the pitiful love of a mere man? She is not worthy of her name."
"That's not true!" Jennifer blurted, stepping forward. "I love my mother! I'm proud of who I am!"
"I am Nemesis!" the shadow woman stated. "The High Council of Zumeria has decreed that you are not worthy of the bracelets and the vestments of Ishtar! I have been dispatched to take them back!"
"NO!" Jennifer cried, aghast at the very idea of giving up her identity as the Fuchsia Fox. "I've EARNED these, by sweat and by blood! They're mine!" She charged toward the woman in black, drawing strength from her power bracelets, and let go with a roundhouse punch intended to hurl her opponent straight back through the doors.
Nemesis casually raised her left hand and caught her fist, absorbing the full impact! Her right hand reached over, grabbed the front of Jennifer's skimpy little halter top, and lifted her off the floor! "Prattling infant!" she declared. "I have been given whatever power I need to defeat you. You haven't a chance!"
Disdainfully she turned and tossed Jennifer backwards almost twenty feet, sending her crashing into and through the chapel's altar. Martin and the minister moved back out of the way, appalled at the power of this dark intruder, but made no move to assist her. It was almost as if some kind of force held them bound and entranced, unable to interfere.
Jennifer scrambled to her feet. "Let's try that again!" she hissed, throwing herself back into the fray. Nemesis planted her shapely legs to meet her charge. Jennifer pulled up at the last second, sending a super-fast flurry of punches to her opponent's midsection and face. Nemesis was a little larger than her but every bit as fast, gracefully blocking each blow, while giving the unnerving impression that beneath her expressionless mask, she was smirking with contempt. Jennifer pivoted to the left, bringing around her right leg for a lateral kick. Nemesis caught her slender foot and counter-attacked, driving her own high-heeled boot up into the vulnerable flesh of the fuchsia-clad girl's smooth bare inner thigh.
"AHHHHH!" Jennifer cried out, simultaneously flipping over to bring her left leg into play, her ankle boot slamming smack into her dark assailant's jaw, the first really solid blow she had managed to land. Nemesis' head snapped back, but she did not let go. Instead she twisted Jennifer's gorgeous gam, dropping the girl face-down on the floor. Grabbing hold of the neck strap of Jennifer's halter top, she dragged the girl upright, bringing her fist down onto her soft shoulder. "UNNNNN!" Jennifer grunted, dropping to the floor again.
"You call yourself the Fuchsia Fox," Nemesis sneered, standing over her. "You call yourself a superheroine. Look at you! You're useless!"
As Jennifer tried to get up, that lissome leg darted out again, catching her in the belly and knocking the wind out of her. Nemesis bent over her, one hand seizing a handful of her short brunette hair, while the other looped around her svelte torso, cupping her nubile young breasts, feeling them up through the fabric of her costume as she yanked Jennifer upright once more.
"I weary of this, little girl!" Nemesis said. "Give up the bracelets and the costume! Admit that you don't deserve to wear them! Or do I have to rip them off of your skinny body by force?" Without waiting for an answer, she roughly yanked at the front of her costume. The straps on the back of her halter top ripped as the skimpy garment came away in her hand, leaving Jennifer's two sweet, supple coconuts totally on display!
"N-no!" Jennifer gasped, struggling to break free of the dark woman's iron grasp. "You can't--" Looking around desperately for some way to break her hold, she caught sight of the wedding guests, still standing in their places, murmuring quietly among themselves. All of her friends, her father, and even Martin were gawking at her exposed B-cups, disappointment in their eyes at the unexpected spectacle of the Fuchsia Fox getting her sassy butt kicked. The photographer was even taking pictures! That, more than anything, made her feel that the fight was truely hopeless...
An odd, musical series of tones suddenly filled the air. Jennifer felt as if it was familiar to her, and yet she couldn't quite place it. "Your death knell, child," Nemesis said, drawing back her fist. "May Nergal have mercy on your soul!"
"NO!!!" Jennifer screamed, sitting up suddenly in her own bed in her pajamas, gasping for breath. Bewildered, she looked around at her snug apartment bedroom, morning sun streaming through the windows, until the solid, mundane reality of it began to sink in. She WAS married to Martin; they had gotten married in Las Vegas three weeks ago without a hitch (unless you counted the alien invasion). As nightmares went, it wasn't quite as bad as the one where she had shown up for her Statistics final exam naked as a jaybird. But it was a definite contender for the number two spot.
The music also clicked into place suddenly -- it was the ring tone of her phone, lying on her bedside table. Still shaking, Jennifer reached across and picked it up. "Yeah? Hello?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Fletcher," said a low, seductive male voice. Jennifer felt like a drowning woman who's just caught hold of the life preserver. And she remembered now why he wasn't in bed with her. It was Saturday, the Fourth of July weekend, and his Army unit was on alert for the duration.
"Good morning, Mr. Fletcher," she purred, lying back in the sheets. "I was just... just dreaming about you..."
***
Chapter 2 --
Jennifer quickly threw on shorts and a green top. She was checking to see that she had everything -- wallet, keys, phone -- when it struck her that she had not put her Fuchsia Fox costume on under her clothes. No time to correct it now. She did slip her power bracelets onto her wrists, because after that nightmare, she didn't feel right letting them out of her sight.
After a jog in Glen Carlyn Park, she was feeling much better. By the time she met Martin for lunch in the diner across the street from the Pentagon, she had forgotten all about her nightmare. They were having a wonderful time holding hands and whispering about what OTHER places they would rather be touching each other if they weren't in a public place... until the news came on the little television set hanging over the counter.
"This just in," said the male announcer. "Vandalism at the Banneker Medical Research Laboratory in Southeast Washington. Just moments ago, an armed individual broke through security and through a five inch thick steel door, leaving at least twelve people injured. No word yet on whether anything was stolen. Witnesses describe the culprit as a woman dressed entirely in black body armor. Lieutenant Caldwell of the District of columbia Police issued a statement..."
Jennifer felt goosebumps form on her skin, her brown eyes growing as wide as saucers. It was silly to believe in premonitions or in nightmares, but she couldn't deny that her spine felt as if it had turned to ice.
"I know what you're thinking," Martin said, misinterpreting the intensity of her look. "You want to sneak away and check it out, right?"
"Er... well..." Jennifer said, her hand tightening on his. Actually that was the LAST thing she wanted! But how could she tell him the reason for her hesitation... that she was frightened of a dream? "I'd... I'd rather..."
"Angel, I don't want to change who you are, just because you're married to me. I know how important this is to you."
"But darling--"
He leaned over and put his lips to her ear. "You heard the man. They need the Fuchsia Fox. I've got to get back to the Sit Room, anyway. I love you." He kissed her, paid the check, and left.
***
Ten minutes later, having found a place to change, the Fuchsia Fox was streaking over the skies of Washington, following Interstate 395 across the Potomac River. Cruising low over East Potomac Park, her lissome frame, clad in bright reddish-purple spandex, drew lots of interested looks as she flashed by on her way toward G Street.
The Banneker Laboratory turned out to be a group of three buildings inside a fence topped with razor wire. District of Columbia police as well as FBI agents were still swarming around, searching for evidence. As the Fox swooped down and landed, she noticed some pretty impressive damage, where the mystery woman had ripped doors off their hinges, even overturned a patrol car. Jennifer's first thought was that the damage was a bit TOO impressive, almost as if the perpetrator had wanted to--
"Fox!" said Lt. Harry Caldwell, greeting her eye-catching appearance with a broad grin. "I was just about to text you. We could sure use your help with this one."
"I'm always happy to do anything I can, lieutenant," the stunning superlady replied. "Why don't you tell me--"
She broke off as she saw a woman, her sleek feminine curves sheathed in a seamless black catsuit and helmet, step around the corner of the building in plain sight! The Fox reacted by sheer reflex, the vivid memory of her nightmare goading her to charge the intruder with a punch that hurled her twenty feet, slamming her into one of the FBI's black SUVs and putting a huge dent in the door.
To her astonishment, the FBI agents drew their sidearms and pointed them at HER! "Fox! What are you doing?" yelled Caldwell, grabbing the young heroine's lissome, glove-sheathed arm to restrain her. "It's all right! She's one of ours!"
"Sh-she's WHAT?" Jennifer stammered, her heartbeat racing.
"National Security Agency," explained Caldwell. "I thought you knew."
"That's okay, guys," the woman said, picking herself up with a grunt of effort. "Put away your weapons. We can't blame her for being confused. After all, the newscast did mention a woman in black armor."
As she strode toward the Fox, her legs swaying sensuously on wedge heels, Jennifer belatedly noticed details about her costume that were different from the one in her dream. She didn't have devil horns or a tail, for one thing. Her helmet was merely a cowl that covered the top half of her head, leaving the lower portion of her face exposed. Her eyes were protected by a blue visor, not separate eye slits. And the back and shoulders of her outfit were bulked up a little bit, as if they incorporated a jetpack. In fact, now that Jennifer had time to think, she recognized the design as exactly like that worn by a male government agent she had met over a year ago.
"You're the new Blackbird?" the Fox said sheepishly. "Sorry about that."
The woman reached up and removed her cowl, revealing a pretty, heart-shaped face. Once free of the helmet, she tossed her head, flicking her short jet black hair from side to side. "The original Blackbird got promoted," she said, reaching out with one gloved hand. "I'm Becca Jamison. Glad to have you on board."
The Fox clasped her hand and gave it a brief squeeze. "So... can you tell me what's up?"
"There's not a lot," the other girl said with a shrug. "Witnesses say a woman crashed the place. We're not releasing all of this to the media, but she was apparently wearing a state-of-the-art, military-grade, powered combat suit. Starr Industries, a well-known defense contractor, reported the suit stolen a few days ago. She took on the lab's entire security force and made off with a canister of highly dangerous experimental neurotoxin."
Jennifer made a face. "That doesn't sound good," she said, pensively shifting her weight from one gorgeous leg to the other. "How about a name? What does this mystery babe call herself?" In her heart she was crossing her fingers and thinking, Please, please don't say Nemesis...
Caldwell, who was still standing to the Fox's right, his wandering eyes roaming back and forth between the two nubile young women in alluringly skin-tight outfits, shook his head. "Usually you can count on a supervillain being arrogant enough to identify herself. But according to the witnesses, she didn't say a word."
Suddenly Blackbird tilted her head slightly and reached up to touch the earbud all but hidden by the drape of her short hair. Quickly she pulled her cowl back on, lowering the visor over her eyes. She seemed to be looking intently at something as the first three fingers of her right hand began rapidly touching her left forearm in a complicated pattern. The Fox realized that there must be a touch-sensitive keyboard on the sleeve of her body suit, practically invisible to the casual observer.
"We're in luck," Blackbird said. "The suit's sensors picked up an odd energy pattern a little while ago. Computer analysis shows it to be an ion stream, probably the exhaust from our mystery lady's propulsion system. I think I can track it. Are you in, Fox?"
"What? Right now? Just the two of us?" the fuchsia-clad heroine said, caught a little off guard.
"Why not?" the other girl said. "It may be just a false alarm. If it isn't, I'm sure that between the two of us, we can handle anything that comes up. Come on!" Blackbird spread her arms wide as her jetpack kicked in, shooting her into the air like a beautiful, spandex-clad rocket, heading due east.
The Fox shook her head slowly, trying to remember if she had ever been that arrogant and cocksure. The young heroine gave Caldwell a wan smile. "We'll try to keep in touch, lieutenant," she said, and then she was sailing off into the sky after her.
Fuchsia Fox: "Nemesis"
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Nice beginning.
Chapter 3 --
Together Blackbird and the Fuchsia Fox flew over Maryland, across Chesapeake Bay, and into Delaware. After nearly an hour, Jennifer began to wish that she could ask her companion how much further it was going to be, but at the pace the dark-clad girl was setting, it was impossible to carry on a conversation. Surely it couldn't be much longer. They passed the Delaware coast, their flight path taking them out over the Atlantic Ocean.
Out of sight of land, abruptly Blackbird banked sharply to the right. A few minutes more found the two lovely girls following in the wake of a big cargo ship. "This is it!" Blackbird shouted, cutting her jetpack and landing on the deck.
The Fox gently touched down beside her. There didn't seem to be anyone around. "Are you sure this is--?"
"Hands up, ladies!" said a gruff male voice with a Russian accent. A group of burly seamen stepped out onto the deck, completely surrounding the two girls and lecherously eyeballing their flawless, tightly-clad curves from every angle. Jennifer counted ten. Four had submachineguns, and the rest had crowbars, wrenches, or lengths of chain in their hands. "This is international waters," the spokesman said. "You have no authority here."
"Yes I realize that," the Fox said, raising one exquisite eyebrow as she planted her hands on her shapely hips. "But we have reason to believe that a wanted criminal may be hiding on board. Could we please speak to the captain?"
The chorus of contemptuous laughter came from the circle of men. "Forget it!" the leader said with a wicked grin. "You two cutie-pies are all alone and outnumbered! You're going to be too busy getting gang-banged! Maybe when we're done with you, the captain will take his turn!" He took a step forward, and the circle began to tighten.
"Blackbird," the Fox asked in a conversational tone of voice, "just out of curiosity, what's the NSA's policy on dealing with ten well-armed, extremely rude and sexist thugs?"
"That's easy, Fox," the girl in black said, smiling. "Five each." Suddenly Blackbird whirled, catching one thug in the jaw with a spinning martial arts kick, ducking under a chain swung at her by a second while almost simultaneously sweeping his feet out from under him. A third bore down on her with a crowbar only to have it sliced in half by a trio of steel talons which had unexpectedly popped out of the backs of the gallant girl's gloves.
At the same time, the Fox gracefully eluded the grabby paws of the leader of the group, bringing her lissome knee up into his groin and knocking most of the fight out of him. Seizing the brawny man by the back of his jacket, the spunky superheroine pivoted to her left, swinging his 300-pound body around like an overstuffed pillow and throwing him into two of the thugs with machineguns, sending all three of them sprawling. Out the corner of her eye, she could see the other two hesitating to fire, partly out of fear of hitting their own side, but mostly because they couldn't believe that two sexy supermodel types could give them that much trouble. Obviously they had only brought the guns in order to intimidate them.
The Fox allowed herself a thin smile. That was working out really well, she thought sarcastically, as two others armed with pipe wrenches came at her swinging. The invisible skin-tight force shield generated by her golden power bracelets was more than adequate protection as she blocked one, grabbing hold of the man's wrist as she high-kicked the other, then spun the first one like a top and tossed him across the deck. The two gunmen made up their minds to open fire at this point, but before they could pull the triggers, the sexy young brunette sprang on them like a tigress, ripping the weapons from their hands and knocking them flat.
Meanwhile, Blackbird was in trouble. Her supersuit had a partial exoskeleton to boost her strength, but after that long flight, her solar batteries were running low on power. She clonked one man in the jaw, only to have him grab her wrist and yank her slender frame into his grasp. A second jumped the girl from behind and then she was caught, helplessly pinned by two strong men, their hands groping at her willowy female shape through the skin-tightness of her suit.
"You're a feisty one, sweet-cheeks," one of the men grunted tauntingly into her ear, while his hand patted her round little booty, slipping in between her legs and feeling up her crotch. "We're gonna shell you like a clam."
"Not likely, 'sweet-cheeks'," Blackbird muttered, cybernetically triggering the static electron blaster in her right glove. It was down to only about a quarter charge as well, but when she shot it into the torso of one of her assailants, the jolt hit both of them like a live wire, stunning them. Quickly the heroine shrugged out of their grasping paws, drawing back her dainty little fist...
"I AM NEMESIS!" announced an amplified voice sounding like thunder. A woman was standing at the railing above them looking down. In comparison to Blackbird's, her armor wasn't what you would call "black" at all, more like a very dark gray. It was chiefly a rigid breast-and-backplate, with an articulated skirt below. Below the skirt her long legs were clad it black tights. Gauntlets were on her hands and high-heeled boots on her feet. Her helmet was faceless, with only two glowing blue eye slits and a pair of multi-band antennae resembling horns.
"FOX!" Blackbird yelled, letting the two stunned henchmen drop in their tracks. "Come on, let's get her!" Without waiting for backup, she leaped, caught the railing, and hauled herself up.
Jennifer had just dropped the last of the hoodlums. All ten were either unconscious or crawling painfully away clutching various parts of their anatomy. She looked up at the armored woman and froze in shock, she looked so much like the figure from her dream!
While she hesitated, Blackbird whaled away at Nemesis, sparks flying as her steel talons struck her armored torso. "Come on, Fox! I need your-- unnnh!"
Nemesis' right hand shot out suddenly, seizing Blackbird by the throat. An irresistible surge of energy ripped through the female agent's frail body, overloading her cybernetic control systems and shocking her senseless. Powerless, unable to even effectively struggle, she went limp as her attacker lifted her bodily off the floor by her neck.
"You are so like your predecessor, you silly black goose," Nemesis said, her voice betraying a Russian accent. "Let me see what you look like." Her left hand reached up and peeled off Blackbird's visor and cowl, unmasking her. "You are prettier than he was, I give you that..."
The Fox had recovered from her own paralysis as various clues clicked into place inside her head. "Leave her alone, Zennakova!" she challenged.
"So you have recognized me at last, devochka!" The faceplate of the helmet slid upward, revealing the beautiful 40-ish face of Major Ludmilla Zennakova, the Fox's long-time adversary. "Your Nemesis! You thought yourself safe from me, did you not? When you broke my mental hold over you, you did not realize that I could still send you bad dreams?"
"Put her down, Zennakova! Put her down right now or I swear I'll--"
"You will do nothing, devochka!" the villainess hissed, drawing Blackbird's helpless body closer. "On the contrary, you will surrender, unless you wish me to break her pretty neck!"
The Fox glowered up at her opponent. She didn't dare make a hostile move, because Zennakova was certainly capable of murder. At the same time, she didn't dare surrender. If the Russian villainess had sent that nightmare, playing upon her deepest fears and insecurities, she had miscalculated badly. Intending no doubt to frighten Jennifer into submission, she had instead reinforced the girl's determination to be worthy of the bracelets of Ishtar at all costs. But did that include risking Becca's life?
Unfortunately, with her attention focused upon resolving her dilemma, the stunning superlady neglected to cover her rear. A tripod-mounted hypersonic cannon rose up silently behind her, manned by a tall henchman with a buzz-cut. He took careful aim at her delicious, fuchsia-clad posterior, and... ZAP!!!
"Unnn!" Caught unprepared, the Fox's force shield was overwhelmed in an instant. The sexy young heroine crumpled slowly to the deck as she blacked out.
Zennakova laughed. "Well done, Prokofiev!" Some of the crewmen were beginning to recover from their rough treatment. To them she barked, "What are you standing around for? Secure her, quickly! Chloroform her to make sure! Then carry both of our guests to the Test Chamber!"
***
Chapter 4 --
The Fuchsia Fox groaned softly as she struggled back to consciousness like a swimmer fighting her way to the surface of a dark and turbulent body of water. Her brain felt mushy from the aftereffects of chloroform. Reality came back slowly, in bits and pieces. She heard the henchman Prokofiev's voice, saying, "Major, I tried to remove her bracelets, but they will not come off! They are locked tight!"
And then Zennakova's, murmuring with concern, "Is this some new trick you have learned to thwart me with, devochka?"
Jennifer had no idea what they were talking about. Certainly she had formed the resolution never to be separated from her power bracelets again, but that didn't mean she could make them stick to her, even while she was unconscious. Did it? She tried to struggle, but immediately strong male hands held her down, firmly putting a damp cloth smelling of chloroform over her face. Helplessly she felt her consciousness slipping away again.
Then the defenseless young heroine was being carried, slung over a man's broad shoulders like a sack of potatoes, her supple boobs rubbing against the back of his jacket. Her wrists were bound with many wrappings of chain, tugging her arms downward like lead weights, while her lissome legs draped down the man's chest. She could feel rough seaman's hands on the silken skin of the backs of her knees, stroking her smooth bare thighs. As he carried her down a narrow ship's companionway, he grabbed her pert round bottom to hold her steady, taking the opportunity to slide fingers inside the leg hole of her briefs. Making what was obviously a lewd comment in Russian, he let his middle digit burrow past the folds of her labia, deep into the fleshy warmth of her secret place.
In her drugged condition, the Fox was in no position to resist. She moaned, squirming with indignation as he fingered her moist clit, sending shivers of arousal through her body. The man only laughed, withdrawing his hand and giving her a hard slap on her tail. Other male voices joined in, and the girl began to fear that it was Zennakova's plan to simply hand her over, tied up and helpless, to the tender mercies of the ship's crew. This wasn't right... she was a married woman now. Only Martin was supposed to...
Suddenly the Fox was being stood upright, her back against a metal wall. Two men were holding her up, her trim knees still too weak and wobbly to support her body, while a third hooked the chains on her wrists to brackets high above her head. leaving her hanging with her toes just grazing the floor, her arms spread about two feet apart. Blackbird was already hanging from similar brackets a few feet away. Her cowl had been completely removed, the front seam of her black bodysuit unzipped halfway down, so that a band of creamy white flesh showed down the front of her torso, the twin hills of her sweet bosom on either side.
They were in an empty cargo hold or something... iron walls formed a room approximately twenty feet by twenty feet, the ceiling somewhat higher. There was only one small air-tight hatch in or out, but the opposite wall had a big picture window of thick, transparent plastic, looking into an adjoining room. On the walls and floor were dark, reddish stains like rust, or... it couldn't be BLOOD, could it?
Their task completed, the man who had carried the defenseless superheroine reached up and took hold of her face, turning her profile from one side to the other as if judging her beauty. "Such a waste, pretty girl," he said. "You not be so pretty when the Major is through with you."
The Fox had enough spunk left to snatch her head back and try to bite his fingers, although not enough strength to carry it off. He drew back his hand, laughing, and instead grabbed both her breasts, jiggling her coconuts up and down like juggling balls, fondling her nipples through the thin fabric of her costume. The Fox strained to break her chains, but with her head still a little mazy from the chloroform, she felt weak and powerless.
All at once the men froze, then scurried from the room like mice who have just seen the cat coming, sealing the hatch behind them. The reason soon became clear. Zennakova was in the adjoining room, looking at the two heroines through the transparent window. She was still wearing the Nemesis armor, but she had removed the helmet, letting her short blonde tresses dance around her face as she occupied herself with something they couldn't make out.
"You okay, Fox?" Blackbird whispered, a little breathless.
The fuchsia-clad heroine nodded. "How long have we been out? It feels like..."
"Hours, I think," the agent said. "They chloroformed us... every time we started to come around. But they've outsmarted themselves... putting me too close to a power cable running through this bulkhead. Wide-spectrum assimilators... recharging the suit. A few more minutes... I'll be strong enough to break these chains. Then we'll see..."
The Fox didn't answer. She knew Zennakova better than that. Whatever the villainess had in mind, it wasn't going to be that easy to escape.
"Good evening," said the Russian beauty, clicking on an intercom system. "I trust you two are quite recovered from your... indisposition? I want you to be in perfect health for my little demonstration."
"Cut the crap, Zennakova!" Blackbird shouted, yanking futilely at her restraints. "Either kill us or let us go!"
The Russian smiled. "I am afraid it is not going to be that simple, Little Goose! But suddenly I am thinking -- you did not tell your partner everything, did you? You did not tell her, for example, the true nature of the neurotoxin which I appropriated?"
The Fox threw a suspicious look at Blackbird. "What does she mean by that? What kind of toxin are we talking about?"
"It doesn't matter!" Blackbird spat, squirming in her bonds.
"Does not matter?" echoed Zennakova, sounding amazed. "Devochka, you will love this. It is called ultrasynthetetradotoxin 114, which is only the tinest portion of the horror. According to the laboratory reports, it suppresses the cerebral cortex, which is the center of reason and intelligence, while at the same time hyperstimulating the lower regions of the hypothalmus, driving the victim into an unreasoning, murderous rage. In tests on animals, it turned two playful little dogs into rabid killers. Even when one was dead, the other tore its body to rags, then chewed its own legs off."
Jennifer turned pale. This was zombie apocalypse stuff, if it ever got released over a city! She turned angrily on Blackbird. "Why didn't you tell me this? What was Banneker Labs doing with it in the first place?"
"Trying to figure out an antidote, if you must know!" the agent replied sulkily.
"Yes, and they were singularly unsuccessful," Zennakova said. "Of course it has not been tested on human beings... yet. How lucky you two are to be the first to know what it feels like." She leaned slightly forward, throwing a switch on the console in front of her.
A thin, white gas began pumping through the air vents into the chamber with the Fox and Blackbird.
"NO! DON'T!" screamed Blackbird, pulling frantically at her chains.
Together Blackbird and the Fuchsia Fox flew over Maryland, across Chesapeake Bay, and into Delaware. After nearly an hour, Jennifer began to wish that she could ask her companion how much further it was going to be, but at the pace the dark-clad girl was setting, it was impossible to carry on a conversation. Surely it couldn't be much longer. They passed the Delaware coast, their flight path taking them out over the Atlantic Ocean.
Out of sight of land, abruptly Blackbird banked sharply to the right. A few minutes more found the two lovely girls following in the wake of a big cargo ship. "This is it!" Blackbird shouted, cutting her jetpack and landing on the deck.
The Fox gently touched down beside her. There didn't seem to be anyone around. "Are you sure this is--?"
"Hands up, ladies!" said a gruff male voice with a Russian accent. A group of burly seamen stepped out onto the deck, completely surrounding the two girls and lecherously eyeballing their flawless, tightly-clad curves from every angle. Jennifer counted ten. Four had submachineguns, and the rest had crowbars, wrenches, or lengths of chain in their hands. "This is international waters," the spokesman said. "You have no authority here."
"Yes I realize that," the Fox said, raising one exquisite eyebrow as she planted her hands on her shapely hips. "But we have reason to believe that a wanted criminal may be hiding on board. Could we please speak to the captain?"
The chorus of contemptuous laughter came from the circle of men. "Forget it!" the leader said with a wicked grin. "You two cutie-pies are all alone and outnumbered! You're going to be too busy getting gang-banged! Maybe when we're done with you, the captain will take his turn!" He took a step forward, and the circle began to tighten.
"Blackbird," the Fox asked in a conversational tone of voice, "just out of curiosity, what's the NSA's policy on dealing with ten well-armed, extremely rude and sexist thugs?"
"That's easy, Fox," the girl in black said, smiling. "Five each." Suddenly Blackbird whirled, catching one thug in the jaw with a spinning martial arts kick, ducking under a chain swung at her by a second while almost simultaneously sweeping his feet out from under him. A third bore down on her with a crowbar only to have it sliced in half by a trio of steel talons which had unexpectedly popped out of the backs of the gallant girl's gloves.
At the same time, the Fox gracefully eluded the grabby paws of the leader of the group, bringing her lissome knee up into his groin and knocking most of the fight out of him. Seizing the brawny man by the back of his jacket, the spunky superheroine pivoted to her left, swinging his 300-pound body around like an overstuffed pillow and throwing him into two of the thugs with machineguns, sending all three of them sprawling. Out the corner of her eye, she could see the other two hesitating to fire, partly out of fear of hitting their own side, but mostly because they couldn't believe that two sexy supermodel types could give them that much trouble. Obviously they had only brought the guns in order to intimidate them.
The Fox allowed herself a thin smile. That was working out really well, she thought sarcastically, as two others armed with pipe wrenches came at her swinging. The invisible skin-tight force shield generated by her golden power bracelets was more than adequate protection as she blocked one, grabbing hold of the man's wrist as she high-kicked the other, then spun the first one like a top and tossed him across the deck. The two gunmen made up their minds to open fire at this point, but before they could pull the triggers, the sexy young brunette sprang on them like a tigress, ripping the weapons from their hands and knocking them flat.
Meanwhile, Blackbird was in trouble. Her supersuit had a partial exoskeleton to boost her strength, but after that long flight, her solar batteries were running low on power. She clonked one man in the jaw, only to have him grab her wrist and yank her slender frame into his grasp. A second jumped the girl from behind and then she was caught, helplessly pinned by two strong men, their hands groping at her willowy female shape through the skin-tightness of her suit.
"You're a feisty one, sweet-cheeks," one of the men grunted tauntingly into her ear, while his hand patted her round little booty, slipping in between her legs and feeling up her crotch. "We're gonna shell you like a clam."
"Not likely, 'sweet-cheeks'," Blackbird muttered, cybernetically triggering the static electron blaster in her right glove. It was down to only about a quarter charge as well, but when she shot it into the torso of one of her assailants, the jolt hit both of them like a live wire, stunning them. Quickly the heroine shrugged out of their grasping paws, drawing back her dainty little fist...
"I AM NEMESIS!" announced an amplified voice sounding like thunder. A woman was standing at the railing above them looking down. In comparison to Blackbird's, her armor wasn't what you would call "black" at all, more like a very dark gray. It was chiefly a rigid breast-and-backplate, with an articulated skirt below. Below the skirt her long legs were clad it black tights. Gauntlets were on her hands and high-heeled boots on her feet. Her helmet was faceless, with only two glowing blue eye slits and a pair of multi-band antennae resembling horns.
"FOX!" Blackbird yelled, letting the two stunned henchmen drop in their tracks. "Come on, let's get her!" Without waiting for backup, she leaped, caught the railing, and hauled herself up.
Jennifer had just dropped the last of the hoodlums. All ten were either unconscious or crawling painfully away clutching various parts of their anatomy. She looked up at the armored woman and froze in shock, she looked so much like the figure from her dream!
While she hesitated, Blackbird whaled away at Nemesis, sparks flying as her steel talons struck her armored torso. "Come on, Fox! I need your-- unnnh!"
Nemesis' right hand shot out suddenly, seizing Blackbird by the throat. An irresistible surge of energy ripped through the female agent's frail body, overloading her cybernetic control systems and shocking her senseless. Powerless, unable to even effectively struggle, she went limp as her attacker lifted her bodily off the floor by her neck.
"You are so like your predecessor, you silly black goose," Nemesis said, her voice betraying a Russian accent. "Let me see what you look like." Her left hand reached up and peeled off Blackbird's visor and cowl, unmasking her. "You are prettier than he was, I give you that..."
The Fox had recovered from her own paralysis as various clues clicked into place inside her head. "Leave her alone, Zennakova!" she challenged.
"So you have recognized me at last, devochka!" The faceplate of the helmet slid upward, revealing the beautiful 40-ish face of Major Ludmilla Zennakova, the Fox's long-time adversary. "Your Nemesis! You thought yourself safe from me, did you not? When you broke my mental hold over you, you did not realize that I could still send you bad dreams?"
"Put her down, Zennakova! Put her down right now or I swear I'll--"
"You will do nothing, devochka!" the villainess hissed, drawing Blackbird's helpless body closer. "On the contrary, you will surrender, unless you wish me to break her pretty neck!"
The Fox glowered up at her opponent. She didn't dare make a hostile move, because Zennakova was certainly capable of murder. At the same time, she didn't dare surrender. If the Russian villainess had sent that nightmare, playing upon her deepest fears and insecurities, she had miscalculated badly. Intending no doubt to frighten Jennifer into submission, she had instead reinforced the girl's determination to be worthy of the bracelets of Ishtar at all costs. But did that include risking Becca's life?
Unfortunately, with her attention focused upon resolving her dilemma, the stunning superlady neglected to cover her rear. A tripod-mounted hypersonic cannon rose up silently behind her, manned by a tall henchman with a buzz-cut. He took careful aim at her delicious, fuchsia-clad posterior, and... ZAP!!!
"Unnn!" Caught unprepared, the Fox's force shield was overwhelmed in an instant. The sexy young heroine crumpled slowly to the deck as she blacked out.
Zennakova laughed. "Well done, Prokofiev!" Some of the crewmen were beginning to recover from their rough treatment. To them she barked, "What are you standing around for? Secure her, quickly! Chloroform her to make sure! Then carry both of our guests to the Test Chamber!"
***
Chapter 4 --
The Fuchsia Fox groaned softly as she struggled back to consciousness like a swimmer fighting her way to the surface of a dark and turbulent body of water. Her brain felt mushy from the aftereffects of chloroform. Reality came back slowly, in bits and pieces. She heard the henchman Prokofiev's voice, saying, "Major, I tried to remove her bracelets, but they will not come off! They are locked tight!"
And then Zennakova's, murmuring with concern, "Is this some new trick you have learned to thwart me with, devochka?"
Jennifer had no idea what they were talking about. Certainly she had formed the resolution never to be separated from her power bracelets again, but that didn't mean she could make them stick to her, even while she was unconscious. Did it? She tried to struggle, but immediately strong male hands held her down, firmly putting a damp cloth smelling of chloroform over her face. Helplessly she felt her consciousness slipping away again.
Then the defenseless young heroine was being carried, slung over a man's broad shoulders like a sack of potatoes, her supple boobs rubbing against the back of his jacket. Her wrists were bound with many wrappings of chain, tugging her arms downward like lead weights, while her lissome legs draped down the man's chest. She could feel rough seaman's hands on the silken skin of the backs of her knees, stroking her smooth bare thighs. As he carried her down a narrow ship's companionway, he grabbed her pert round bottom to hold her steady, taking the opportunity to slide fingers inside the leg hole of her briefs. Making what was obviously a lewd comment in Russian, he let his middle digit burrow past the folds of her labia, deep into the fleshy warmth of her secret place.
In her drugged condition, the Fox was in no position to resist. She moaned, squirming with indignation as he fingered her moist clit, sending shivers of arousal through her body. The man only laughed, withdrawing his hand and giving her a hard slap on her tail. Other male voices joined in, and the girl began to fear that it was Zennakova's plan to simply hand her over, tied up and helpless, to the tender mercies of the ship's crew. This wasn't right... she was a married woman now. Only Martin was supposed to...
Suddenly the Fox was being stood upright, her back against a metal wall. Two men were holding her up, her trim knees still too weak and wobbly to support her body, while a third hooked the chains on her wrists to brackets high above her head. leaving her hanging with her toes just grazing the floor, her arms spread about two feet apart. Blackbird was already hanging from similar brackets a few feet away. Her cowl had been completely removed, the front seam of her black bodysuit unzipped halfway down, so that a band of creamy white flesh showed down the front of her torso, the twin hills of her sweet bosom on either side.
They were in an empty cargo hold or something... iron walls formed a room approximately twenty feet by twenty feet, the ceiling somewhat higher. There was only one small air-tight hatch in or out, but the opposite wall had a big picture window of thick, transparent plastic, looking into an adjoining room. On the walls and floor were dark, reddish stains like rust, or... it couldn't be BLOOD, could it?
Their task completed, the man who had carried the defenseless superheroine reached up and took hold of her face, turning her profile from one side to the other as if judging her beauty. "Such a waste, pretty girl," he said. "You not be so pretty when the Major is through with you."
The Fox had enough spunk left to snatch her head back and try to bite his fingers, although not enough strength to carry it off. He drew back his hand, laughing, and instead grabbed both her breasts, jiggling her coconuts up and down like juggling balls, fondling her nipples through the thin fabric of her costume. The Fox strained to break her chains, but with her head still a little mazy from the chloroform, she felt weak and powerless.
All at once the men froze, then scurried from the room like mice who have just seen the cat coming, sealing the hatch behind them. The reason soon became clear. Zennakova was in the adjoining room, looking at the two heroines through the transparent window. She was still wearing the Nemesis armor, but she had removed the helmet, letting her short blonde tresses dance around her face as she occupied herself with something they couldn't make out.
"You okay, Fox?" Blackbird whispered, a little breathless.
The fuchsia-clad heroine nodded. "How long have we been out? It feels like..."
"Hours, I think," the agent said. "They chloroformed us... every time we started to come around. But they've outsmarted themselves... putting me too close to a power cable running through this bulkhead. Wide-spectrum assimilators... recharging the suit. A few more minutes... I'll be strong enough to break these chains. Then we'll see..."
The Fox didn't answer. She knew Zennakova better than that. Whatever the villainess had in mind, it wasn't going to be that easy to escape.
"Good evening," said the Russian beauty, clicking on an intercom system. "I trust you two are quite recovered from your... indisposition? I want you to be in perfect health for my little demonstration."
"Cut the crap, Zennakova!" Blackbird shouted, yanking futilely at her restraints. "Either kill us or let us go!"
The Russian smiled. "I am afraid it is not going to be that simple, Little Goose! But suddenly I am thinking -- you did not tell your partner everything, did you? You did not tell her, for example, the true nature of the neurotoxin which I appropriated?"
The Fox threw a suspicious look at Blackbird. "What does she mean by that? What kind of toxin are we talking about?"
"It doesn't matter!" Blackbird spat, squirming in her bonds.
"Does not matter?" echoed Zennakova, sounding amazed. "Devochka, you will love this. It is called ultrasynthetetradotoxin 114, which is only the tinest portion of the horror. According to the laboratory reports, it suppresses the cerebral cortex, which is the center of reason and intelligence, while at the same time hyperstimulating the lower regions of the hypothalmus, driving the victim into an unreasoning, murderous rage. In tests on animals, it turned two playful little dogs into rabid killers. Even when one was dead, the other tore its body to rags, then chewed its own legs off."
Jennifer turned pale. This was zombie apocalypse stuff, if it ever got released over a city! She turned angrily on Blackbird. "Why didn't you tell me this? What was Banneker Labs doing with it in the first place?"
"Trying to figure out an antidote, if you must know!" the agent replied sulkily.
"Yes, and they were singularly unsuccessful," Zennakova said. "Of course it has not been tested on human beings... yet. How lucky you two are to be the first to know what it feels like." She leaned slightly forward, throwing a switch on the console in front of her.
A thin, white gas began pumping through the air vents into the chamber with the Fox and Blackbird.
"NO! DON'T!" screamed Blackbird, pulling frantically at her chains.
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Excellent second act. Particularly enjoyed the fight and the OTS scenes.
-
flirty_but_nice
- Staff Sargeant
- Posts: 151
- Joined: 10 years ago
- Location: Texas
- Contact:
Centurion, excellent first two installments!
In the first part where she had gotten dressed without putting on her Fox outfit, just the bracelets, I have to admit I was very excited at the prospect of the Fox having to do battle, supercharged, but without her regular uniform! The idea of her being in "regular" clothing to do battle is something that I find to be very arousing.
I am also really liking that they could not remove her bracelets! I love the idea of them being a more permanent fixture upon her, so that the Fox is no longer so easily disarmed of her power.
Oh, also, I love that, although now married, she is still sexually exploited and in fact, as a result, aroused. I just get so damp thinking of her involuntarily enjoying and getting off on being taken by another. It's soooo NAUGHTY!
Very excited to read on. I hope you are soon with an update!
In the first part where she had gotten dressed without putting on her Fox outfit, just the bracelets, I have to admit I was very excited at the prospect of the Fox having to do battle, supercharged, but without her regular uniform! The idea of her being in "regular" clothing to do battle is something that I find to be very arousing.
I am also really liking that they could not remove her bracelets! I love the idea of them being a more permanent fixture upon her, so that the Fox is no longer so easily disarmed of her power.
Oh, also, I love that, although now married, she is still sexually exploited and in fact, as a result, aroused. I just get so damp thinking of her involuntarily enjoying and getting off on being taken by another. It's soooo NAUGHTY!
Very excited to read on. I hope you are soon with an update!
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
Jenn (aka Flirty)
I appreciate it. I do enjoy a good Over The Shoulder carry. The drawback to my style of storytelling -- i.e., mostly heroine POV -- is that she's usually unconscious when she's carried that way and isn't aware of it. This was a great opportunity to actually describe it.DrDominator9 wrote:Excellent second act. Particularly enjoyed the fight and the OTS scenes.
In that case I will definitely have to try and think of a situation where she has to fight in street clothes (maybe shorts and a tube top?). It will be tricky because she relies on the properties of her costume to conceal her secret identity. Plus you know if she has her bracelets on she can summon her costume in the same way that she can summon her bracelets if she has her costume. Hmmm. Maybe there's a distance limit...?flirty_but_nice wrote:Centurion, excellent first two installments!
In the first part where she had gotten dressed without putting on her Fox outfit, just the bracelets, I have to admit I was very excited at the prospect of the Fox having to do battle, supercharged, but without her regular uniform! The idea of her being in "regular" clothing to do battle is something that I find to be very arousing.
I'll have more to say about this later, but let me wait until after chapter 7.I am also really liking that they could not remove her bracelets! I love the idea of them being a more permanent fixture upon her, so that the Fox is no longer so easily disarmed of her power.
Chapter 5 --
"NO! NOOOO!" the dark-haired girl begged, thrashing back and forth in her chains like an animal in a trap as the white mist engulfed both her and the Fuchsia Fox. Wrinkling her pert little nose as though from a horrible stench, Blackbird began to flail her head from side to side as if trying to shake something off of her. "Noorrrghhhhh!!!!" she yowled, her sylph-like body arching against her restraints.
"Amazing how quickly it works," said Major Zennakova, safe in the other room. "And you, devochka? How are you feeling?"
The Fox, hanging suspended from her own set of chains, was concentrating on her force shield, willing it to protect her from the gas. "No... comment..." she grunted, perspiring freely.
"And this is only a small sample," the villainess went on, "a teaspoon, mixed with nitrous oxide to make it aerosol. The rest is being loaded into a cruise missile as we speak. I believe it will make quite an impression, burst over Washington along with all those lovely fireworks..."
Oh God, the fireworks! Jennifer thought. It was the Fourth of July! All those thousands of people turned into ravenous, murderous zombies! And Martin! He was going to be at the reviewing stand with General Hanson!
With a savage, primal scream, Blackbird twisted her lissome body upward, planting her wedge-heeled boots against the wall for leverage as she wrenched herself loose from the brackets holding her restrained. The staples snapped, letting her drop to the floor on all fours, tearing herself free of the chains. For a moment she remained crouched, panting from the effort like some blood-intoxicated wild thing. The front of her suit had come open, letting her lush round breasts bob freely as her chest rose and fell. Jennifer didn't dare speak or make a sound.
Then the girl in black looked up, bloodshot eyes focusing on the Fox, chained and helpless. Her full lips pulled back in a grimace of pure hatred, showing fine, pearly white teeth. A deep predatory growl rumbled in her pretty throat.
"Becca?" the Fox whispered. If she attacked, Jennifer would have to split her concentration to defend both against her attack as well as repel the gas, something she wasn't sure she was up to in her present state. "Please, Becca! Try to keep hold of yourself! Try to keep control! You don't want to hurt me! You don't want to--"
"YEOOORRRR!!" the girl snarled, leaping on her. Jennifer screamed, twisting her body, trying to evade as far as her restraints would allow. Her only chance was that Becca had just been blowing smoke about her suit being nearly recharged. If she had her full strength... Jennifer swung her face to the left just as Blackbird's fist came down, missing her by inches, with enough force to put a dent in the iron wall behind her. So much for that idea, Jennifer thought. American ingenuity triumphs again...
Fortunately for the Fox, Blackbird's steel talons got momentarily embedded in the wall of the test chamber. Jennifer brought up her legs, clamping her silken limbs around Becca's lithe, slender waist, struggling desperately to hold her at bay. Somehow she got her knee in between their bodies, summoning the strength from her bracelets of Ishtar to kick the agent off of her. Then with a mighty effort, she ripped her chains free and dropped to the floor.
"Neeeaggh!!" Becca jumped her instantly and the two heroines grappled, hands clawing at clothing as their two supple bodies intertwined bust to bust. In close contact, the Fox could smell the flowery scent of the other girl's body wash, combined with the tang of her sweat, along with a faint third note... a bitter smell like almonds. OH NO, she was afraid of this! With the extra strain, the deadly gas was seeping through her force shield!
It hit her suddenly like a migraine right between the eyes. The Fox gasped out loud, helpless to fight against the tidal wave of violent emotion. Within moments, her heart was hammering like a kettledrum, her blood surging, pulse racing with adrenalin. Gone was reason, gone was intelligence and compassion; there was only the white-hot burning hunger, the irresistable carnal need to tear, to rip, to claw, and to BITE!
As Zennakova watched them from the safety of the observation room, Blackbird attacked. Grabbing the Fox in a head lock, she scrambled for a firm hold by hooking her fingers into the bottom edge of the brunette's halter top. Jennifer instinctively tried to pull away, resulting in the ebon-clad girl peeling her top completely off, letting her supple B-cups pop into view. Blackbird threw the skimpy garment aside with a cry of rage, leaping forward with talons extended. The two heroines clashed head-on, uttering inarticulate squeals as they fought like cats in heat. This time Jennifer got the upper hand, twisting Becca around and pinning her arms behind her. The agent immediately wriggled free by slipping her arms out of the sleeves of her body suit.
Both girls were now naked from the waist up. Blackbird had lost the edge given her by her super suit, and the Fox, although still armed with the bracelets of Ishtar, had no rational means of focusing their awesome powers. The combatants tumbled across the floor in a confusion of lovely arms and legs, the brunette coming up on top, legs astraddle her opponent's shapely hips as she squirmed and struggled like a wildcat. Once Becca was pinned and defenseless, Jennifer leaned forward, her hot mouth latching onto the smooth skin of the girl's vulnerable bare breasts, trying to bite.
"Nah! Nahaaahhh!!!" Blackbird growled, bucking underneath her. The Fox forced her back down, letting her body glide sensuously forward, up and then back, her supple breasts stroking the whole delicious length of the other girl's torso. Up and back, her nipples hard as bullets, her mouth sucking at the soft skin of the girl underneath her, teeth lightly nipping at her rosy flesh, tasting slightly salty with her perspiration.
As Blackbird struggled, her buttocks tensing against the floor, their nubile young bodies set up a natural counter-rhythm, back and up, back and up, rubbing, squeezing together with exquisite silken friction, their lips and tongues sampling one another's female softness. Becca's hands, left free to explore, were now touching, stroking Jennifer's body, sliding up and around her waist, squeezing her pliant little coconuts and pinching her nipples. Zennakova pressed forward against the safety glass, biting her lip, her own pulse racing in voyeuristic sympathy.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," the Fox moaned, as erotic feelings stirred her blood. A fire was building in the innermost parts of her body, spreading and growing. Her mind reduced to a primal, animal level, the superheroine couldn't realize that her half-Zumerian body chemistry was having an unpredictable hormonal reaction to the toxin, offering the two of them one slim hope for survival. Stimulated to such an unnatural degree, her hormones were breaking the toxin down into natural aphrodesiacs, transmuting violent energy into sexual energy. If she could only keep going long enough to outlast the toxin, they might have a chance.
Blind passion alone was driving her now. Hardly aware of what she was doing, the Fox scooted backward, crouching on her knees while she yanked Blackbird's bodysuit down over her full hips and butt, down her creamy thighs until her neatly trimmed bush was exposed in all its naked feminine beauty. Becca tried to leap up with a snarl, but Jennifer once again threw her onto her back. Holding her dominated by the pressure of her body, she forced her mouth over the other girl's in a savage kiss. At the same time her hand was urgently groping down there in the dark cleft between Becca's smooth inner thighs. Trembling fingers found her secret place, pushing past the moist petals to touch the soft pink spot within.
"Gahhh!" Becca gasped, her body quivering in submission. Her lower legs were tangled up in her body suit, but her thighs parted invitingly, her hands tightening around Jennifer's alluring waist and pulling her closer.
Major Zennakova, watching as if spellbound, couldn't suppress a barely audible moan deep in her throat, her fingers slipping underneath her armor's skirt and rubbing her slightly damp crotch through the fabric of her tights. She didn't even notice Prokofiev came into the room to report the readiness of the missile. The henchman opened his mouth and then froze on the spot when he saw what was going on between the more than half-naked superheroines.
The Fuchsia Fox had pulled back in between Blackbird's legs, bringing her face to the level of her juicy cooch. In a mindless frenzy of lust, she plunged into that dangerous musky vortex, two slender fingers holding the folds of Blackbird's labia parted while her tongue probed her succulent cleft, sucking and licking. The scent of the other girl's sex was thrilling, intoxicating, driving her insane with arousal.
"Yeahsss!!" Becca squealed. "Pleaseyahs! Please!"
The Fox was on her knees, her tempting little tail bobbing up and down as she ate Blackbird's muff. She slipped her fingers into the other girl's wet slit, feeling for her G-spot. The government agent squirmed helplessly under such exquisite torture, her hands finding her way to her tender breasts, fondling, pinching her swollen nipples until her climax suddenly peaked and she came like a tidal wave! "YES! GOD! OHYES!!!" she screamed, gasping for breath.
Jennifer felt the merciful release of her own climax a second later. Weak and trembling, she sagged backward against the wall of the test chamber. The scandalous truth that she had done it with another girl hadn't quite begun to sink it; for now it was enough that she was still alive and still in her right mind. "Saved by an orgasm," she muttered, stroking her inner thighs soothingly. "I can't believe it..."
In the observation room, Major Zennakova was incensed. "Oh no you don't, devochka," she hissed angrily. "You don't escape me seeing you die that easily!" She clicked on another intercom channel. "Get in there, quickly! Seize those two!"
***
Chapter 6 --
The Fuchsia Fox saw the wheel on the air-tight hatch start to turn and roused herself for action. A quick glance assured her that Blackbird was still out of it, conscious but too exhausted to be of much use. The spunky superheroine forced herself to her feet, hands softly cupping her nubile breasts as she frantically looked around for her halter top. She spotted it still lying crumpled on the floor where Blackbird had thrown it... but the hatch was already beginning to open!
The first man to step through was holding a big, dangerous-looking ionic energy rifle, his finger poised on the trigger ready to fire. Fortunately for the Fox, the unexpected full-frontal of her two spectacular bare bosoms made him freeze, gawking with his mouth open. Jennifer thrust her fists out in front of her and charged like a slender missile, picking him up and carrying him through the doorway into the corridor, where six more roughnecks were waiting.
Summoning desperate strength from her bracelets, the beautiful young heroine hit them like a tornado, keeping them off balance, not giving them the opportunity to use their weapons. The first chance she got, she smashed that raygun, gracefully eluding the thugs whenever they tried to grab her sweet, sylph-like body. Within moments, four of the men were on the floor either unconscious or hurting badly, and the other three were running away, having had enough.
The Fox would have dearly loved to take a breather, if only to put her top back on. But where the corridor turned, she caught a glimpse of Major Zennakova, retreating just ahead of her henchmen. In the heat of the moment, she couldn't let her regroup to work more mischief. Racing down the corridor in pursuit, the stunning superheroine caught up with them at a companionway leading up; Zennakova had already ascended and the trio were bunched up trying to climb. Jennifer tore into them like a fury, chopping the first one down with a single blow, delivering a spinning kick to the second. As the third turned to her, she grabbed him by the lapels and flipped him, sending him flying down the corridor the way she had come. Then she rushed up the ladder, having no more time to waste on inferior lackeys.
The top of the companionway came out on the deck of the ship. The Fox was surprised to find that it was already twilight, and immediately thought of the fireworks in Washington, due to begin soon... Suddenly the sensational superlady was jumped from behind as the henchman with the blonde buzzcut, Prokofiev, snaked his arms around her lissome waist and grabbed her. He was immediately joined by a stout man, both of the thugs seizing her wrists and latching their impertinent male hands onto her smooth, naked breasts. Jennifer gasped at the feel of their cold fingers fondling her, touching her nipples...
"Now don't struggle, cupcake," said the stout one, Minsky, grinning as he gave her supple little coconut a squeeze. "You're caught!"
"Oh spare me!" the Fox scoffed. "You two losers couldn't catch a girl scout!" With hardly any effort, she tore herself from their grasp, driving an elbow into one, swinging her silken knee up into the other's crotch. Spinning around, she slapped their heads together, grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks, and tossed them both down the companionway, where they landed on the deck below with a crash.
The Fox had barely finished when a ball of lightning erupted around her, tendrils shooting sparks where it contacted her skin tight force shield. The young heroine cried out, nearly fell, but caught herself.
"That was a warning, foolish girl," Major Zennakova said, standing a dozen yards away across the deck, encased in the dark gray Nemesis armor. "Take heed of it." She gestured toward a superstructure at the midsection of the ship, where a huge launch cradle was swinging a cruise missile into position on silent hydraulics. "The missile lies there, waiting for my radio signal to launch it at Washington... and at your young man. Would you become a widow so soon after your wedding?"
"Leave Martin out of this!" Jennifer warned, balling up her fists and tensing for action.
"Such fire!" Zennakova laughed. "But there is a simple solution, devochka. Surrender your bracelets to me. Crawl over here, kiss my feet, beg me to spare his life, and perhaps I will have mercy."
"You? Mercy? You don't know the meaning of the word!"
"I know the meaning of destruction, child," Zennakova said, her smile fading away. "This is your last chance."
"You can kiss my sweet ass!" the Fox said, charging. The spunky superheroine flew across the intervening space, both fists in front of her, ready to plow through the Russian beauty. Zennakova sidestepped at the last second, deflecting the Fox's attack to send her alluring body crashing right through the iron wall of the ship's superstructure. Jennifer pulled herself free and threw herself at her foe again.
This time Zennakova met her charge, face to face, body to body, catching the Fox in a bear hug. The Fox brought her fists down on either side of her helmet, forcing her to let go. The two women grappled, each desperately groping for a hold. The Russian's hand struck like a cobra, seizing the Fox by the throat, fingers tightening like clamps, choking her. At the same time her other hand reached up to cup her pert little breast. It was so exactly like Jennifer's nightmare!
"This pathetic attempt to fight me is so amusing, devochka," Zennakova taunted as the lissome girl struggled. "The Nemesis armor was designed to be used on the battlefield. The breastplate can withstand a direct hit by an artillery shell. The armitures amplify the wearer's strength 75 times! I could easily lift eight tons if I wished! Can you say the same?"
The Fox grimaced, ignoring the pain. She thought of Martin, and all those people who were going to die if she failed. "Maybe I just... never had... a good enough reason to... before!"
She struck out with both legs like an uncoiling spring, slamming into Zennakova's chest with every ounce of force she could possibly summon. Not only was the Russian beauty's hold broken, she was thrown back, tumbling several yards across the deck. She looked up at Jennifer as if she couldn't believe what had just happened.
"A lucky punch, devochka," Major Zennakova said. "One you will not live to repeat!" Raising her arm, she fired off her electrical bolt, striking the Fox squarely on her lovely chest.
Jennifer held her ground, gritting her teeth as she surged forward. Lightning crackled against the valiant heroine's invisible force shield, making her feel as if she had stepped into a live current, but still she came on. No excuses, no turning back. She was in this to win it.
Zennakova struck furiously, like a madwoman. The Fox dodged and leaped like a gazelle, getting in a body blow here, a kick there. Suddenly it was all clear. The fear and the pain that she had endured the past few hours came boiling to the surface to remind her of everything she had to lose. And yet, as Wonder Woman had said to her a few weeks earlier, although anger was there for her to use if she needed it, anger didn't rule her. She didn't lose control for one second; with every punch, she instinctively reinforced her force shield to absorb the impact so that she didn't break every bone in her fists. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was methodically pounding that stupid armor to pieces!
One final head shot swept Zennakova off her feet, sending her horned helmet flying. As the blonde tried to get up, she found that her breastplate had been reduced to junk, literally falling apart around her body, leaving her with nothing but the black body stocking she was wearing underneath. "You... you don't win, devochka! I still get in the last shot!"
She pressed a control on her left gauntlet. The circuit fizzled, shorting out, but the radio command went through nevertheless. From the missile launcher came a shrill beepbeepbeepbeep... and then with a roar, the cruise missile took off! It soared away a hundred or so yards, corrected its course, and arched off on a beeline straight for Washington!
Jennifer gasped. MARTIN!
"Fox? What did I miss?" Blackbird came racing up the companionway, her black powersuit back in place, clutching Jennifer's fuchsia halter top.
"Hold down the fort," the Fox said. Without another thought, she leaped into the air on the trail of the missile.
"NO! NOOOO!" the dark-haired girl begged, thrashing back and forth in her chains like an animal in a trap as the white mist engulfed both her and the Fuchsia Fox. Wrinkling her pert little nose as though from a horrible stench, Blackbird began to flail her head from side to side as if trying to shake something off of her. "Noorrrghhhhh!!!!" she yowled, her sylph-like body arching against her restraints.
"Amazing how quickly it works," said Major Zennakova, safe in the other room. "And you, devochka? How are you feeling?"
The Fox, hanging suspended from her own set of chains, was concentrating on her force shield, willing it to protect her from the gas. "No... comment..." she grunted, perspiring freely.
"And this is only a small sample," the villainess went on, "a teaspoon, mixed with nitrous oxide to make it aerosol. The rest is being loaded into a cruise missile as we speak. I believe it will make quite an impression, burst over Washington along with all those lovely fireworks..."
Oh God, the fireworks! Jennifer thought. It was the Fourth of July! All those thousands of people turned into ravenous, murderous zombies! And Martin! He was going to be at the reviewing stand with General Hanson!
With a savage, primal scream, Blackbird twisted her lissome body upward, planting her wedge-heeled boots against the wall for leverage as she wrenched herself loose from the brackets holding her restrained. The staples snapped, letting her drop to the floor on all fours, tearing herself free of the chains. For a moment she remained crouched, panting from the effort like some blood-intoxicated wild thing. The front of her suit had come open, letting her lush round breasts bob freely as her chest rose and fell. Jennifer didn't dare speak or make a sound.
Then the girl in black looked up, bloodshot eyes focusing on the Fox, chained and helpless. Her full lips pulled back in a grimace of pure hatred, showing fine, pearly white teeth. A deep predatory growl rumbled in her pretty throat.
"Becca?" the Fox whispered. If she attacked, Jennifer would have to split her concentration to defend both against her attack as well as repel the gas, something she wasn't sure she was up to in her present state. "Please, Becca! Try to keep hold of yourself! Try to keep control! You don't want to hurt me! You don't want to--"
"YEOOORRRR!!" the girl snarled, leaping on her. Jennifer screamed, twisting her body, trying to evade as far as her restraints would allow. Her only chance was that Becca had just been blowing smoke about her suit being nearly recharged. If she had her full strength... Jennifer swung her face to the left just as Blackbird's fist came down, missing her by inches, with enough force to put a dent in the iron wall behind her. So much for that idea, Jennifer thought. American ingenuity triumphs again...
Fortunately for the Fox, Blackbird's steel talons got momentarily embedded in the wall of the test chamber. Jennifer brought up her legs, clamping her silken limbs around Becca's lithe, slender waist, struggling desperately to hold her at bay. Somehow she got her knee in between their bodies, summoning the strength from her bracelets of Ishtar to kick the agent off of her. Then with a mighty effort, she ripped her chains free and dropped to the floor.
"Neeeaggh!!" Becca jumped her instantly and the two heroines grappled, hands clawing at clothing as their two supple bodies intertwined bust to bust. In close contact, the Fox could smell the flowery scent of the other girl's body wash, combined with the tang of her sweat, along with a faint third note... a bitter smell like almonds. OH NO, she was afraid of this! With the extra strain, the deadly gas was seeping through her force shield!
It hit her suddenly like a migraine right between the eyes. The Fox gasped out loud, helpless to fight against the tidal wave of violent emotion. Within moments, her heart was hammering like a kettledrum, her blood surging, pulse racing with adrenalin. Gone was reason, gone was intelligence and compassion; there was only the white-hot burning hunger, the irresistable carnal need to tear, to rip, to claw, and to BITE!
As Zennakova watched them from the safety of the observation room, Blackbird attacked. Grabbing the Fox in a head lock, she scrambled for a firm hold by hooking her fingers into the bottom edge of the brunette's halter top. Jennifer instinctively tried to pull away, resulting in the ebon-clad girl peeling her top completely off, letting her supple B-cups pop into view. Blackbird threw the skimpy garment aside with a cry of rage, leaping forward with talons extended. The two heroines clashed head-on, uttering inarticulate squeals as they fought like cats in heat. This time Jennifer got the upper hand, twisting Becca around and pinning her arms behind her. The agent immediately wriggled free by slipping her arms out of the sleeves of her body suit.
Both girls were now naked from the waist up. Blackbird had lost the edge given her by her super suit, and the Fox, although still armed with the bracelets of Ishtar, had no rational means of focusing their awesome powers. The combatants tumbled across the floor in a confusion of lovely arms and legs, the brunette coming up on top, legs astraddle her opponent's shapely hips as she squirmed and struggled like a wildcat. Once Becca was pinned and defenseless, Jennifer leaned forward, her hot mouth latching onto the smooth skin of the girl's vulnerable bare breasts, trying to bite.
"Nah! Nahaaahhh!!!" Blackbird growled, bucking underneath her. The Fox forced her back down, letting her body glide sensuously forward, up and then back, her supple breasts stroking the whole delicious length of the other girl's torso. Up and back, her nipples hard as bullets, her mouth sucking at the soft skin of the girl underneath her, teeth lightly nipping at her rosy flesh, tasting slightly salty with her perspiration.
As Blackbird struggled, her buttocks tensing against the floor, their nubile young bodies set up a natural counter-rhythm, back and up, back and up, rubbing, squeezing together with exquisite silken friction, their lips and tongues sampling one another's female softness. Becca's hands, left free to explore, were now touching, stroking Jennifer's body, sliding up and around her waist, squeezing her pliant little coconuts and pinching her nipples. Zennakova pressed forward against the safety glass, biting her lip, her own pulse racing in voyeuristic sympathy.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," the Fox moaned, as erotic feelings stirred her blood. A fire was building in the innermost parts of her body, spreading and growing. Her mind reduced to a primal, animal level, the superheroine couldn't realize that her half-Zumerian body chemistry was having an unpredictable hormonal reaction to the toxin, offering the two of them one slim hope for survival. Stimulated to such an unnatural degree, her hormones were breaking the toxin down into natural aphrodesiacs, transmuting violent energy into sexual energy. If she could only keep going long enough to outlast the toxin, they might have a chance.
Blind passion alone was driving her now. Hardly aware of what she was doing, the Fox scooted backward, crouching on her knees while she yanked Blackbird's bodysuit down over her full hips and butt, down her creamy thighs until her neatly trimmed bush was exposed in all its naked feminine beauty. Becca tried to leap up with a snarl, but Jennifer once again threw her onto her back. Holding her dominated by the pressure of her body, she forced her mouth over the other girl's in a savage kiss. At the same time her hand was urgently groping down there in the dark cleft between Becca's smooth inner thighs. Trembling fingers found her secret place, pushing past the moist petals to touch the soft pink spot within.
"Gahhh!" Becca gasped, her body quivering in submission. Her lower legs were tangled up in her body suit, but her thighs parted invitingly, her hands tightening around Jennifer's alluring waist and pulling her closer.
Major Zennakova, watching as if spellbound, couldn't suppress a barely audible moan deep in her throat, her fingers slipping underneath her armor's skirt and rubbing her slightly damp crotch through the fabric of her tights. She didn't even notice Prokofiev came into the room to report the readiness of the missile. The henchman opened his mouth and then froze on the spot when he saw what was going on between the more than half-naked superheroines.
The Fuchsia Fox had pulled back in between Blackbird's legs, bringing her face to the level of her juicy cooch. In a mindless frenzy of lust, she plunged into that dangerous musky vortex, two slender fingers holding the folds of Blackbird's labia parted while her tongue probed her succulent cleft, sucking and licking. The scent of the other girl's sex was thrilling, intoxicating, driving her insane with arousal.
"Yeahsss!!" Becca squealed. "Pleaseyahs! Please!"
The Fox was on her knees, her tempting little tail bobbing up and down as she ate Blackbird's muff. She slipped her fingers into the other girl's wet slit, feeling for her G-spot. The government agent squirmed helplessly under such exquisite torture, her hands finding her way to her tender breasts, fondling, pinching her swollen nipples until her climax suddenly peaked and she came like a tidal wave! "YES! GOD! OHYES!!!" she screamed, gasping for breath.
Jennifer felt the merciful release of her own climax a second later. Weak and trembling, she sagged backward against the wall of the test chamber. The scandalous truth that she had done it with another girl hadn't quite begun to sink it; for now it was enough that she was still alive and still in her right mind. "Saved by an orgasm," she muttered, stroking her inner thighs soothingly. "I can't believe it..."
In the observation room, Major Zennakova was incensed. "Oh no you don't, devochka," she hissed angrily. "You don't escape me seeing you die that easily!" She clicked on another intercom channel. "Get in there, quickly! Seize those two!"
***
Chapter 6 --
The Fuchsia Fox saw the wheel on the air-tight hatch start to turn and roused herself for action. A quick glance assured her that Blackbird was still out of it, conscious but too exhausted to be of much use. The spunky superheroine forced herself to her feet, hands softly cupping her nubile breasts as she frantically looked around for her halter top. She spotted it still lying crumpled on the floor where Blackbird had thrown it... but the hatch was already beginning to open!
The first man to step through was holding a big, dangerous-looking ionic energy rifle, his finger poised on the trigger ready to fire. Fortunately for the Fox, the unexpected full-frontal of her two spectacular bare bosoms made him freeze, gawking with his mouth open. Jennifer thrust her fists out in front of her and charged like a slender missile, picking him up and carrying him through the doorway into the corridor, where six more roughnecks were waiting.
Summoning desperate strength from her bracelets, the beautiful young heroine hit them like a tornado, keeping them off balance, not giving them the opportunity to use their weapons. The first chance she got, she smashed that raygun, gracefully eluding the thugs whenever they tried to grab her sweet, sylph-like body. Within moments, four of the men were on the floor either unconscious or hurting badly, and the other three were running away, having had enough.
The Fox would have dearly loved to take a breather, if only to put her top back on. But where the corridor turned, she caught a glimpse of Major Zennakova, retreating just ahead of her henchmen. In the heat of the moment, she couldn't let her regroup to work more mischief. Racing down the corridor in pursuit, the stunning superheroine caught up with them at a companionway leading up; Zennakova had already ascended and the trio were bunched up trying to climb. Jennifer tore into them like a fury, chopping the first one down with a single blow, delivering a spinning kick to the second. As the third turned to her, she grabbed him by the lapels and flipped him, sending him flying down the corridor the way she had come. Then she rushed up the ladder, having no more time to waste on inferior lackeys.
The top of the companionway came out on the deck of the ship. The Fox was surprised to find that it was already twilight, and immediately thought of the fireworks in Washington, due to begin soon... Suddenly the sensational superlady was jumped from behind as the henchman with the blonde buzzcut, Prokofiev, snaked his arms around her lissome waist and grabbed her. He was immediately joined by a stout man, both of the thugs seizing her wrists and latching their impertinent male hands onto her smooth, naked breasts. Jennifer gasped at the feel of their cold fingers fondling her, touching her nipples...
"Now don't struggle, cupcake," said the stout one, Minsky, grinning as he gave her supple little coconut a squeeze. "You're caught!"
"Oh spare me!" the Fox scoffed. "You two losers couldn't catch a girl scout!" With hardly any effort, she tore herself from their grasp, driving an elbow into one, swinging her silken knee up into the other's crotch. Spinning around, she slapped their heads together, grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks, and tossed them both down the companionway, where they landed on the deck below with a crash.
The Fox had barely finished when a ball of lightning erupted around her, tendrils shooting sparks where it contacted her skin tight force shield. The young heroine cried out, nearly fell, but caught herself.
"That was a warning, foolish girl," Major Zennakova said, standing a dozen yards away across the deck, encased in the dark gray Nemesis armor. "Take heed of it." She gestured toward a superstructure at the midsection of the ship, where a huge launch cradle was swinging a cruise missile into position on silent hydraulics. "The missile lies there, waiting for my radio signal to launch it at Washington... and at your young man. Would you become a widow so soon after your wedding?"
"Leave Martin out of this!" Jennifer warned, balling up her fists and tensing for action.
"Such fire!" Zennakova laughed. "But there is a simple solution, devochka. Surrender your bracelets to me. Crawl over here, kiss my feet, beg me to spare his life, and perhaps I will have mercy."
"You? Mercy? You don't know the meaning of the word!"
"I know the meaning of destruction, child," Zennakova said, her smile fading away. "This is your last chance."
"You can kiss my sweet ass!" the Fox said, charging. The spunky superheroine flew across the intervening space, both fists in front of her, ready to plow through the Russian beauty. Zennakova sidestepped at the last second, deflecting the Fox's attack to send her alluring body crashing right through the iron wall of the ship's superstructure. Jennifer pulled herself free and threw herself at her foe again.
This time Zennakova met her charge, face to face, body to body, catching the Fox in a bear hug. The Fox brought her fists down on either side of her helmet, forcing her to let go. The two women grappled, each desperately groping for a hold. The Russian's hand struck like a cobra, seizing the Fox by the throat, fingers tightening like clamps, choking her. At the same time her other hand reached up to cup her pert little breast. It was so exactly like Jennifer's nightmare!
"This pathetic attempt to fight me is so amusing, devochka," Zennakova taunted as the lissome girl struggled. "The Nemesis armor was designed to be used on the battlefield. The breastplate can withstand a direct hit by an artillery shell. The armitures amplify the wearer's strength 75 times! I could easily lift eight tons if I wished! Can you say the same?"
The Fox grimaced, ignoring the pain. She thought of Martin, and all those people who were going to die if she failed. "Maybe I just... never had... a good enough reason to... before!"
She struck out with both legs like an uncoiling spring, slamming into Zennakova's chest with every ounce of force she could possibly summon. Not only was the Russian beauty's hold broken, she was thrown back, tumbling several yards across the deck. She looked up at Jennifer as if she couldn't believe what had just happened.
"A lucky punch, devochka," Major Zennakova said. "One you will not live to repeat!" Raising her arm, she fired off her electrical bolt, striking the Fox squarely on her lovely chest.
Jennifer held her ground, gritting her teeth as she surged forward. Lightning crackled against the valiant heroine's invisible force shield, making her feel as if she had stepped into a live current, but still she came on. No excuses, no turning back. She was in this to win it.
Zennakova struck furiously, like a madwoman. The Fox dodged and leaped like a gazelle, getting in a body blow here, a kick there. Suddenly it was all clear. The fear and the pain that she had endured the past few hours came boiling to the surface to remind her of everything she had to lose. And yet, as Wonder Woman had said to her a few weeks earlier, although anger was there for her to use if she needed it, anger didn't rule her. She didn't lose control for one second; with every punch, she instinctively reinforced her force shield to absorb the impact so that she didn't break every bone in her fists. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was methodically pounding that stupid armor to pieces!
One final head shot swept Zennakova off her feet, sending her horned helmet flying. As the blonde tried to get up, she found that her breastplate had been reduced to junk, literally falling apart around her body, leaving her with nothing but the black body stocking she was wearing underneath. "You... you don't win, devochka! I still get in the last shot!"
She pressed a control on her left gauntlet. The circuit fizzled, shorting out, but the radio command went through nevertheless. From the missile launcher came a shrill beepbeepbeepbeep... and then with a roar, the cruise missile took off! It soared away a hundred or so yards, corrected its course, and arched off on a beeline straight for Washington!
Jennifer gasped. MARTIN!
"Fox? What did I miss?" Blackbird came racing up the companionway, her black powersuit back in place, clutching Jennifer's fuchsia halter top.
"Hold down the fort," the Fox said. Without another thought, she leaped into the air on the trail of the missile.
Appreciate it, Digitalbleh. Just in time for the grand finale.
***
Chapter 7 --
How fast was a cruise missile anyway? As the Fuchsia Fox soared into the sky in pursuit, the thing was already a distant star on the evening horizon. She poured on the speed -- eighty, ninety, a hundred miles an hour, and still the thing outdistanced her. The beautiful young superheroine began to think that it was hopeless.
"Don't even THINK that!" she admonished herself, narrowing her eyes in concentration, flying faster than she had ever flown before. Racing over the water, she became a missile herself... more than a missile -- a bullet! The wind whipped her short brunette hair, air friction chafed the velvet skin of her bare breasts thrust out in front of her, but still she held grimly on.
And she was doing it! The Fox was gaining on it! The jet exhaust from the missile, at first a tiny spark in the dark evening sky ahead of her, grew to the size of a distinct ball. They were over land now, crossing Delaware, then the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Chesapeake Bay flashed by in less than three minutes. The missile was a taking on a shape now, recognizable as a missile. Faster and faster. Up ahead, she could see the lights of Washington, actually make out the shape of the Capitol Building and the Mall beyond, with the Washington Monument raising its point toward the sky.
The Fox overtook the missile as it was crossing the Anacosta River. She had naively hoped that what to do would be obvious... something like a big red button marked, "Press here to save the day", but there was nothing like that in evidence. There were only seconds left to act. She would have to resort to her disintegration beam and pray.
The little blue bead appeared, spinning around the leading edge of her bracelets. The stunning superlady concentrated, willing it to obey her. The blue beam lanced out, striking with surgical precision along the rear body of the rocket. Its remaining fuel ignited in a glorious fireball over the Capitol Building, consuming the missile and its deadly payload.
Jennifer screeched to a stop, hovering in mid air. Precisely one second later, the fireworks show started, filling the air over the Mall with bursting rockets and streamers of fire. On the ground, the crowds of people in their uncounted thousands were cheering, not quite drowned out by triumphant music blaring from loudspeakers.
"Don't mention it," the Fox muttered to herself, a tiny speck going completely unnoticed in the vast sky. Her heart ached to see Martin, to throw herself into his arms and hold him close. But she suddenly remembered with a rush of embarrassment that she was still naked from the waist up! She had left her top back on Zennakova's ship! Hastily she spun around and retraced her course, taking considerably more time about the return trip.
Jennifer was somewhat surprised at how difficult it was to locate a single ship out there on the vast ocean in the dark. But she did find Zennakova's ship, mainly because it was the one with the Coast Guard cutter moored to it, sending over boarding parties! Zennakova and her goons were in handcuffs. The deck of the ship seemed to be crawling with men, and Blackbird was in the middle of them, still obliviously hanging onto the Fox's halter top, leaving her with her boobs flapping in the breeze! The life of a superheroine was like a roller-coaster ride, total triumph followed by total humiliation.
One of the Coast Guard officers was talking to Blackbird. "The Fuchsia Fox was involved? I'd sure like to meet her!" He had his hands on his hips, his eyes scanning the activity on deck in a very business-like fashion, but they kept returning with a kind of erotic fascination to the sexy little reddish-purple garment that Blackbird was clutching in her hands, with its fox-head emblem showing.
"Yeah, I'm sort of holding this for her," the government agent replied. "Oh, here she is now, lieutenant! Fox! I take it the missile--"
"Blackbird," the brunette interrupted shortly, her arms clasped tightly across her beautiful bust, "before you go on, may I please have my top back?" She was grateful that in the dark they couldn't tell how much she was blushing.
"Oh! Sure!"
Jennifer turned facing out to sea, feeling the hot burning stares of dozens of male eyes on her bare back and her tight little butt as she wiggled into her costume. When all was in place, she turned back to face them.
"I take it the missile didn't..." Blackbird resumed.
"No, it didn't."
The agent sighed, looking down at the battered remains of the Nemesis armor, piled on the deck. "You did it again! Project Oracle said that if you got involved, the suit would end up destroyed. That's why the NSA dispatched me in the first place. I was supposed to find it before you did."
The Fox crossed her arms. "Well, I'm so sorry," she said testily. "Next time I'll just let her kill me. Would that suit the NSA?"
"Don't get your undies in a bundle," Blackbird said soothingly. "I'm on your side. Just one thing..." She reached over and kicked the breastplate with her wedge-heeled boot. "Remind me to never get you mad at me."
***
Once it became clear than neither Blackbird nor the Coast Guard needed her any longer, the Fuchsia Fox flew back to Washington. Retrieving her street clothes from the place she had stashed them earlier, the spunky superheroine decided not to change. Instead she simply took the bundle and flew back to her apartment in Alexandria.
That was what she liked about her old third-story walk-up. It was an old building (the elevator was always breaking down), and her side of it, with its little balcony, was across an alley from an old factory, so that it was easy to come and go without being seen. Martin wanted to move into his condo, which was admittedly bigger and closer to Fort Myer, and she supposed that once her lease ran out, she would go along with him. For now, she was grateful to be able to slip into her own apartment without having to change.
Safely inside, Jennifer took off her ankle boots, wiggling her toes and luxuriating in their freedom. Oh what a day it had been! Lying back on the sofa, the girl massaged the knots out of her smooth calves, thinking about how much she needed a nice hot bubble bath. She glanced at the clock. Martin would be getting off his shift in another three hours. Plenty of time to soak for awhile and still greet him at the door wearing his favorite pink teddy. Stirring herself, she moved into the bathroom, turning on the taps to the bathtub.
While she waited for the tub to fill, Jennifer reached up and undid the fasteners of the halter top. Letting the skimpy garment fall loose from her chest, she draped it over the edge of the tub. Slipping her fingers into the waistband of her briefs, she slid them over her hips and down her long legs. Naked, she turned off the taps and stepped into the bathtub. Then she tried to take off her bracelets.
For some reason, they wouldn't budge! Suddenly Jennifer recalled Zennakova and Prokofiev talking about how they couldn't get them off of her. At the time she had put it down to fuzziness in her mind from the chloroform. She tried again. It was as if the metal had shrunken to exactly fit her wrists. They weren't too tight, they weren't the slightest bit uncomfortable; they just wouldn't move.
Jennifer was feeling close to panic now. Frantically she removed her elbow-length gloves, by tearing them. Of course her original silk gloves were long gone, but she had enough unstable Zumerian fabric from her mother to make dozens of pairs, or even a cape if she felt like it.
The bracelets still wouldn't budge. Jennifer sat in the warm bath and forced herself to calm down. It wasn't exactly the end of the world. But... well, she had always thought of her Fuchsia Fox identity as a costume she could put on and take off when she needed to. Was she going be like Supergirl and Wonder Woman from now on -- a superheroine 24/7 whether she wanted to be or not? Surely there had been times when her bracelets had been taken away from her, leaving her to deplore how vulnerable she was without them, but still...
"Be careful what you wish for," she whispered, as she sat back in her bath.
>>>> THE END
***
Chapter 7 --
How fast was a cruise missile anyway? As the Fuchsia Fox soared into the sky in pursuit, the thing was already a distant star on the evening horizon. She poured on the speed -- eighty, ninety, a hundred miles an hour, and still the thing outdistanced her. The beautiful young superheroine began to think that it was hopeless.
"Don't even THINK that!" she admonished herself, narrowing her eyes in concentration, flying faster than she had ever flown before. Racing over the water, she became a missile herself... more than a missile -- a bullet! The wind whipped her short brunette hair, air friction chafed the velvet skin of her bare breasts thrust out in front of her, but still she held grimly on.
And she was doing it! The Fox was gaining on it! The jet exhaust from the missile, at first a tiny spark in the dark evening sky ahead of her, grew to the size of a distinct ball. They were over land now, crossing Delaware, then the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Chesapeake Bay flashed by in less than three minutes. The missile was a taking on a shape now, recognizable as a missile. Faster and faster. Up ahead, she could see the lights of Washington, actually make out the shape of the Capitol Building and the Mall beyond, with the Washington Monument raising its point toward the sky.
The Fox overtook the missile as it was crossing the Anacosta River. She had naively hoped that what to do would be obvious... something like a big red button marked, "Press here to save the day", but there was nothing like that in evidence. There were only seconds left to act. She would have to resort to her disintegration beam and pray.
The little blue bead appeared, spinning around the leading edge of her bracelets. The stunning superlady concentrated, willing it to obey her. The blue beam lanced out, striking with surgical precision along the rear body of the rocket. Its remaining fuel ignited in a glorious fireball over the Capitol Building, consuming the missile and its deadly payload.
Jennifer screeched to a stop, hovering in mid air. Precisely one second later, the fireworks show started, filling the air over the Mall with bursting rockets and streamers of fire. On the ground, the crowds of people in their uncounted thousands were cheering, not quite drowned out by triumphant music blaring from loudspeakers.
"Don't mention it," the Fox muttered to herself, a tiny speck going completely unnoticed in the vast sky. Her heart ached to see Martin, to throw herself into his arms and hold him close. But she suddenly remembered with a rush of embarrassment that she was still naked from the waist up! She had left her top back on Zennakova's ship! Hastily she spun around and retraced her course, taking considerably more time about the return trip.
Jennifer was somewhat surprised at how difficult it was to locate a single ship out there on the vast ocean in the dark. But she did find Zennakova's ship, mainly because it was the one with the Coast Guard cutter moored to it, sending over boarding parties! Zennakova and her goons were in handcuffs. The deck of the ship seemed to be crawling with men, and Blackbird was in the middle of them, still obliviously hanging onto the Fox's halter top, leaving her with her boobs flapping in the breeze! The life of a superheroine was like a roller-coaster ride, total triumph followed by total humiliation.
One of the Coast Guard officers was talking to Blackbird. "The Fuchsia Fox was involved? I'd sure like to meet her!" He had his hands on his hips, his eyes scanning the activity on deck in a very business-like fashion, but they kept returning with a kind of erotic fascination to the sexy little reddish-purple garment that Blackbird was clutching in her hands, with its fox-head emblem showing.
"Yeah, I'm sort of holding this for her," the government agent replied. "Oh, here she is now, lieutenant! Fox! I take it the missile--"
"Blackbird," the brunette interrupted shortly, her arms clasped tightly across her beautiful bust, "before you go on, may I please have my top back?" She was grateful that in the dark they couldn't tell how much she was blushing.
"Oh! Sure!"
Jennifer turned facing out to sea, feeling the hot burning stares of dozens of male eyes on her bare back and her tight little butt as she wiggled into her costume. When all was in place, she turned back to face them.
"I take it the missile didn't..." Blackbird resumed.
"No, it didn't."
The agent sighed, looking down at the battered remains of the Nemesis armor, piled on the deck. "You did it again! Project Oracle said that if you got involved, the suit would end up destroyed. That's why the NSA dispatched me in the first place. I was supposed to find it before you did."
The Fox crossed her arms. "Well, I'm so sorry," she said testily. "Next time I'll just let her kill me. Would that suit the NSA?"
"Don't get your undies in a bundle," Blackbird said soothingly. "I'm on your side. Just one thing..." She reached over and kicked the breastplate with her wedge-heeled boot. "Remind me to never get you mad at me."
***
Once it became clear than neither Blackbird nor the Coast Guard needed her any longer, the Fuchsia Fox flew back to Washington. Retrieving her street clothes from the place she had stashed them earlier, the spunky superheroine decided not to change. Instead she simply took the bundle and flew back to her apartment in Alexandria.
That was what she liked about her old third-story walk-up. It was an old building (the elevator was always breaking down), and her side of it, with its little balcony, was across an alley from an old factory, so that it was easy to come and go without being seen. Martin wanted to move into his condo, which was admittedly bigger and closer to Fort Myer, and she supposed that once her lease ran out, she would go along with him. For now, she was grateful to be able to slip into her own apartment without having to change.
Safely inside, Jennifer took off her ankle boots, wiggling her toes and luxuriating in their freedom. Oh what a day it had been! Lying back on the sofa, the girl massaged the knots out of her smooth calves, thinking about how much she needed a nice hot bubble bath. She glanced at the clock. Martin would be getting off his shift in another three hours. Plenty of time to soak for awhile and still greet him at the door wearing his favorite pink teddy. Stirring herself, she moved into the bathroom, turning on the taps to the bathtub.
While she waited for the tub to fill, Jennifer reached up and undid the fasteners of the halter top. Letting the skimpy garment fall loose from her chest, she draped it over the edge of the tub. Slipping her fingers into the waistband of her briefs, she slid them over her hips and down her long legs. Naked, she turned off the taps and stepped into the bathtub. Then she tried to take off her bracelets.
For some reason, they wouldn't budge! Suddenly Jennifer recalled Zennakova and Prokofiev talking about how they couldn't get them off of her. At the time she had put it down to fuzziness in her mind from the chloroform. She tried again. It was as if the metal had shrunken to exactly fit her wrists. They weren't too tight, they weren't the slightest bit uncomfortable; they just wouldn't move.
Jennifer was feeling close to panic now. Frantically she removed her elbow-length gloves, by tearing them. Of course her original silk gloves were long gone, but she had enough unstable Zumerian fabric from her mother to make dozens of pairs, or even a cape if she felt like it.
The bracelets still wouldn't budge. Jennifer sat in the warm bath and forced herself to calm down. It wasn't exactly the end of the world. But... well, she had always thought of her Fuchsia Fox identity as a costume she could put on and take off when she needed to. Was she going be like Supergirl and Wonder Woman from now on -- a superheroine 24/7 whether she wanted to be or not? Surely there had been times when her bracelets had been taken away from her, leaving her to deplore how vulnerable she was without them, but still...
"Be careful what you wish for," she whispered, as she sat back in her bath.
>>>> THE END
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DrDominator9
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Another winning submission, Centurian. 
Just one thought though: Even with the missile exploding wouldn't the payload of deadly toxin be sprayed all over the people-filled mall below. Is our government now filled with Zombies? Seems likely. 
Just one thought though: Even with the missile exploding wouldn't the payload of deadly toxin be sprayed all over the people-filled mall below. Is our government now filled with Zombies? Seems likely. -
flirty_but_nice
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Centurion, all in all, I love it!
And I like that her bracelets seem to have mysteriously become more permanent. This should make for a rather exciting future confrontation with her bracelets being seized up on for removal. Can't wait!
And I like that her bracelets seem to have mysteriously become more permanent. This should make for a rather exciting future confrontation with her bracelets being seized up on for removal. Can't wait!
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
Jenn (aka Flirty)
Yeah, I get what you're saying. The missile exploded over the Capitol Building, which should presumably have been empty at that time. But if Congress was suddenly turned into a bunch of mindless, bloodsucking zombies, would anyone notice?DrDominator9 wrote:Another winning submission, Centurian.
Ah yes! I do intend to explain why it happened in an upcoming story, if I can only manage to find the time to sit down and write it. Things are kind of busy for me right now.flirty_but_nice wrote:Centurion, all in all, I love it!
And I like that her bracelets seem to have mysteriously become more permanent. This should make for a rather exciting future confrontation with her bracelets being seized up on for removal. Can't wait!
Now... about the Fox having to fight in street clothes. Before this it wouldn't have been possible, because up until now Jennifer had to activate the bracelets by saying "Ishtar", and the resulting sudden surge of energy would generally burn up ordinary clothing. This was the reason she took off her wedding dress before she transformed in "Til Death Do Us Part", or it would have been ruined. Now that her bracelets are permanent fixtures (more or less), they are basically always activated at a low level, so this isn't a concern anymore. If she wants to raise her force shield, she still has to be careful to allow the power to build gradually, because if she draws too much all at once she might find herself unexpectedly au naturel.
I remember the story suggestions you and Dr. Dominator both made about a heroine caught "undercover" in her street clothes. It sounded interesting, but I'm just not sure what sort of perils you have in mind in that situation. Can you give me some idea what kind of thing you're thinking of, either here on the topic or by PM if you'd rather?
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DrDominator9
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I'm curious how you'll be able to get around FF's identity problem with her bracelets fused to her now, or if she'll just be a superheroine 24/7 and let Martin be the breadwinner in a one-income family now that they're married.
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flirty_but_nice
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As you know, my reply with ideas sent via email.Centurion wrote: Can you give me some idea what kind of thing you're thinking of, either here on the topic or by PM if you'd rather?
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
Jenn (aka Flirty)
I'm sorry I didn't make that clear. She'll still have the secret identity thing, it's just that she'll have powers all the time (at a low level at least) without having to "activate" the bracelets. She'll just wear long-sleeved blouses whenever possible so as not to call attention to the bracelets. (It works for Diana Prince, after all. The Bracelets of Submission are the one item of her Wonder Woman costume that she can never remove, and yet nobody ever seems to notice them.)DrDominator9 wrote:I'm curious how you'll be able to get around FF's identity problem with her bracelets fused to her now, or if she'll just be a superheroine 24/7 and let Martin be the breadwinner in a one-income family now that they're married.
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DrDominator9
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That's not how I remember either the tv show or the comics. The bracelets only appear after she changes in the flash of light that brings her costume and tiara and lasso from storage in another dimension.Centurion wrote: (It works for Diana Prince, after all. The Bracelets of Submission are the one item of her Wonder Woman costume that she can never remove, and yet nobody ever seems to notice them.)
I'm not saying your idea can't work, but you've ruled out any trips to the beach for FF in her secret identity.
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flirty_but_nice
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Well, bracelets can be rather generic looking. I am sure that in the fantasy world of superheroes, where bracelets are often power bracelets, there'd be all kinds of knock-offs and costume jewelry that would make it so one never knows.
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
Jenn (aka Flirty)
That's a very good point. It's a well-established part of the Wonder Woman mythos that she can NEVER remove the bracelets of submission. It's part of the covenant the Amazons made with Athena after Hercules took away Hippolyta's Girdle of Gaea and captured them all, putting them in chains. (That's probably where the television people got the idea that WWs belt was the source of her strength, but actually it was Hippolyta who wore the Girdle, not Diana.) And yet, in the comics Diana Prince can be clearly seen running around without them, including the occasional scene in the shower, wearing nothing at all. (My collection dates from the 70s, 80s and 90s, so DC may have changed all of this for all I know.) The only logical solution I can come up with is that whatever magic makes her costume vanish also makes the bracelets invisible, to avoid awkward questions. They're still there, you just can't see them.DrDominator9 wrote:That's not how I remember either the tv show or the comics. The bracelets only appear after she changes in the flash of light that brings her costume and tiara and lasso from storage in another dimension.
At any rate, I believe that's the tack I'm going to take (unless I think of something better). The technology that allows Jennifer's bracelets to pass through metal detectors and x-ray machines without setting off alarms can also generate a sort of hypnotic aura so that people simply don't notice them. I'm thinking something similar to Douglas Adams' "Somebody-Else's-Business" field.