Fuchsia Fox : "The Return of Alchema", by Centurion

[flirty_but_nice]

Here's the latest story crafted by Centurion, in response to my constant bantering. And once again, as always, your feedback is encouraged! ...

Fuchsia Fox: "The Return of Alchema"

Prologue --


The two burley bodyguards dressed in black slacks and tee-shirts stood in front of the double doors, watching the young woman cooling her heels in the waiting room.

She was extremely pretty. A lustrous mass of shoulder-length, chestnut-brown hair framed her face, which was so flawless and beautiful, the men couldn't help thinking they had seen it on a magazine cover somewhere. If that weren't enough to draw their attention, the outfit she was wearing sealed the deal. Her curvy frame was clad in a sleeveless royal blue crop top, tight enough to highlight e shapes of her two perfect breasts, and below that she wore red bikini briefs. Her legs, crossed as the girl waited impatiently, checking her watch every few seconds, had on yellow boots that came just short of her pretty knees.

Both men suddenly heard a voice in their earpieces. They walked over to the babe. "Mr. Devlin will see you now, Dr. Foster," said the man on the right. As the girl jumped anxiously to her feet, he stopped her. "You'll have to leave your gun with us."

The men smirked. Slung around her delectable waist was a belt and holster. The gun looked more like a kid's toy squirt gun than a serious weapon, but orders were orders.

The girl, who sometimes used the alias Alchema, cocked one eyebrow. Slowly drawing the gun from its holster, she suddenly leaped backward and pulled the trigger.

A clear liquid emerged from the barrel, turning instantly into a cloud of noxious, stinging mist. "Witch!" the men swore as the skin of their faces burned, their eyes swelling up and watering so much they couldn't see. One of the men lunged for the girl, but met only her high heel as it impacted with his left knee. He dropped to the floor, cursing, as the second thug stumbled over him, reaching out blindly for her.

Alchema gracefully side-stepped, the derma-plasm face mask she was wearing providing her ample protection from the irritant gas as she grabbed his wrist with both hands and twisted his arm. The bodyguard was roughly twice as big as her and three times as strong, but that didn't prevent the beautiful leg he had been admiring only a few moments ago from arching upward into his balls with a satisfying crunch.

Leaving both bodyguards on their hands and knees cursing, Alchema flicked the dial on her chemical gun, spraying a stream of her universal solvent on the double doors the men had been standing guard over. The lock melted and fell off. The girl burst through the doors, gun at the ready.

"Dr. Foster," said Damien Devlin amiably, sitting behind his mahogany desk, "if I had known you were this impatient to see me, I'd have let you in an hour ago."

Alchema sprang forward, leveling her gun at his chest. "All I have to do is squeeze the trigger, and a 70 psi stream of my universal solvent will shoot out, probably carving a neat hole straight through that sorry excuse for a heart of yours," she declared.

"Now... don't do anything you'll regret," Devlin said, spreading his arms wide. "Without me, you'll never get your procedure."

Alchema ground her teeth together. "When do I get it?" she growled. "You promised me after I stole that canister for you!"

"And a very profitable caper that was," Devlin said smoothly. "But these things can't be rushed. I need you to do another little job for me."

Alchema's green eyes flickered uncertainly, remembering what a certain superheroine had told her about Damien Devlin stringing her along and never fulfilling his promises. Meanwhile time was ticking away. There were 18 minutes and 22 seconds left before her derma-plasm mask dissolved and her own scarred and ruined face was visible again. "What kind of job?" she asked reluctantly.

"I want you to steal the Declaration of Independence," Devlin said.

Alchema gasped. That was what he called a 'little' job? "What if I run into the Fuchsia Fox again?" she asked.

Devlin sat back in his chair and smiled. "Yes," he said expansively. "What if you do?"


***


Chapter 1 --


Dr. Angela Pace, the Curator of the National Archives, was a beautiful African-American woman of forty, her slender body clad in a stylish silk blouse and a long pencil skirt that caressed her tight, rounded backside and elegant legs. "Good job on those e-mails, Janna," she said to her assistant as she emerged from her office. "Now I need you to see to it that the website is updated. And I had to move the Declaration down to the Restoration Room for some minor work on the case. Make sure the 'We apologize for the inconvenience' signs are posted."

"Already taken care of, Dr. Pace," said her 25-year-old brunette assistant, wearing a much shorter, sleeveless, geometric print dress. "But it's Jennifer, not Janna."

"Didn't I say Jennifer?" the curator said, cocking her head.

The younger girl smiled. On her very first day, Dr. Pace had asked her if she preferred being addressed as "Jennifer" or as "Mrs. Fletcher", but the idea of a 40-year-old woman calling her "Mrs. Fletcher" had just seemed ludicrous.

Dr. Pace tisked and went on, "I have a daughter named Janna just starting college, and that's why I keep doing that. If I do it again, just slap me on the head as hard as you can. I'll eventually get the message."

Jennifer couldn't suppress a tiny grin as her right hand touched the golden bracelet locked to her left wrist. If she were to literally hit her as hard as she could, Dr. Pace would probably be knocked straight through the wall. But as usual, the lapse didn't annoy her so much as it endeared her. Like most young women her age, Jennifer habitually took it for granted that she would always be in her mid-twenties. She never seriously considered the possibility of being over thirty, so for her, a beautiful woman who didn't mind calling attention to the fact that she was old enough to have a grown daughter was pretty incomprehensible.

"And there's a young man from the Pentagon downstairs," Dr. Pace continued, "with a load of declassified documents for storage. Could you deal with that? I've got to run over to the Air and Space for a few minutes."

"Right away, ma'am!" Jennifer said as she hurried out of the office, her heart beating a little faster. That "young man from the Pentagon" could be her husband Martin, come to check up on her. Crossing the rotunda, she skirted the crowds of tourists, thinking it a bit ironic that, after living in Washington for over four years and actually working at the National Archives for over a month, she had yet to see the Declaration of Independence herself. Shrugging off the thought, she made for the elevator which took her down to the building's utility entrance.

There was an Army hummer parked at the dock, and on the dock itself a large cart loaded with black-bound binders, guarded by two soldiers. One had four stripes on the sleeves of his uniform, but the other was an officer.

"Assistant Curator Fletcher, SIR!" said the officer, snapping to attention and giving her a crisp salute, his broad chest puffed out. The non-com beside him looked confused. It wasn't her husband, after all. It was one of his men, Lt. Oscar Jenkins.

"Don't start with me," Jennifer warned him darkly, blushing slightly as she took the manifest sheet from the sergeant. "What is it this time, records from the UFO crash at Roswell?"

"Nope, that one's still classified," Oscar grinned. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Jennifer laughed dutifully as she leaned against the cart, putting her weight on her left leg with her right slightly bent as she checked the manifest, which proved to be only routine documents. With nothing better to do, the two males couldn't resist admiring the snug fit of the girl's short dress and the exquisite tone of her long, lithe legs.

Jennifer was aware of a slight tingling sensation on the nape of her neck, the sixth sense that any attractive young woman has when men are checking her out. In this case it was more intense than usual because this was the first time she had been relatively alone with Oscar since he had accidentally seen some of the videos that had been taken of her in the nude in their apartment by her stalker, Irwin Butz. She could feel her cheeks grow warm as she thought about it. Was Oscar thinking of those videos right now? Was he picturing her without her clothes on, looking at her in her dress and imagining her naked butt, or her pink slit? The very thought unaccountably sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine.

"So... have you been seeing anybody special?" Jennifer asked, clearing her throat. Without quite realizing she was doing it, she slipped her foot out of her high heel, lightly stroking her smooth, bare calf.

"Well, you know..." Oscar said airily, his eyes picking up on every detail. "Been kind of busy lately."

"Too busy for chicks?" she laughed. "It seems like ages since we double-dated." Jennifer recalled, before she and Martin were married, going out several times with Oscar and whatever girl he was seeing at the time. There seemed to be an endless succession of them... mostly blonde, bouncy, big-chested girls. And all this time, she had never given him a second thought. As Martin's friend, he had been strictly verboten. She stole a glance at him now, marveling that she had never noticed how HOT he was, how broad his chest was, how huggable his shoulders were...

"Sure, we'll do that," he said. "There's a chick at the gym I've been meaning to--"

He broke off so suddenly, Jennifer whirled around to see what was wrong. He was just standing there, frozen like a mannequin. So was the sergeant. "Oscar? Oscar, are you all right?"

"Now this is more like it," said a female voice. Its owner stepped into view, a breathtakingly beautiful brunette apparently in her mid-forties, her lean body sheathed in a clingy, sapphire-blue full body suit that left her right leg and her left arm and shoulder tantalizingly bare, with a small triangular emblem over her left breast. If there had been an impartial observer, he or she would have noted the striking resemblance between this older woman and Jennifer.

"If you HAD to marry an Earth man," the woman said, "why not this one? Look at those arms! Look at that chest!" Her hands splayed across Oscar's chest and abs, feeling the shape of his body intimately as if she intended to unbutton his shirt for a closer look. "Oooh you can practically smell the testosterone rolling off of him. I'll bet he has an enormous gollywanger."

"MOTHER!" Jennifer said, blushing. "What are you doing here?" She wasn't worried about Oscar or the sergeant now, having recognized the operation of the slow-time envelope Ishtar had put on them.

The Zumerian space commander gave her daughter a quick hug, then pulled away. "Business, I'm afraid," she sighed.


***

Chapter 2 --


"What kind of business?" Jennifer asked, looking back and forth in spite of herself lest anyone be watching. Her secret identity as the superheroine Fuchsia Fox would be difficult to keep if alien beings kept arriving out of thin air around her.

"I have spoken to the Council," Ishtar said, "and they have agreed to accept Nibiru and Druj into our custody, just as we did those Kadians who tried to invade. I can at least promise that they will be relocated to a planet far away from here."

Jennifer was shaking her head. "Nope. I've spoke to three different generals, as far up the chain of command as I could get. They want to keep them in custody here on Earth."

"Don't they understand that those two are dangerous aliens?" Ishtar said incredulously.

Jennifer sighed. "No, I'm not sure that they do, really. What they are sure of is that, as a member of the ORCUS terrorist group, Nibiru was personally responsible for executing at least fourteen American and British citizens. And Druj..." No one could argue that Druj wasn't an alien, since his serpentine body was only about sixteen inches long and he had unexplained hypnotic powers. "...they're not sure WHAT Druj is, but he has been convicted by a military tribunal of aiding in the excape of terrorists from their super-secure prison."

"Male pride strikes again," Ishtar scoffed, glancing meaningfully at Oscar and the sergeant, still frozen in place. "I could take them anyway. I could be in and out and poor men would never know what hit them."

"Mother, no!" Jennifer said. "They'd know I had something to do with it, and they'd never trust me again. We just have to hope for the best."

Ishtar shrugged. "Well, the next time Nibiru and Druj escape from their 'super-secure' prison, maybe they'll reconsider." She paused to shift topics. "So how have you been?"

"Doing fine, doing great," Jennifer said. "I got a promotion. I took some of that unstable molecular fabric you gave me and made a couple of small alterations to the costume."

"Alterations?" said Ishtar, smiling. In fact she had been monitoring her daughter's appearances on the news lately and already noticed slight changes in her two-piece Fuchsia Fox costume. She had added a miniskirt, the halter top covered marginally more of her torso now, and even the shape of the chest emblem had subtly altered, reflecting Jennifer's own personality and self-confidence. "I can hardly wait to see," she said, "but I have to run. There's a crisis in sector Four Four Eight Zee that I need to watch. My champion there is up to her eyeballs in--"

"You have other champions?" Jennifer blurted, feeling a little bit unnerved.

"It's a big galaxy, Jennifer," the Zumerian replied simply. "In any case, unless I miss my guess, you're going to be up to your own neck in trouble the moment I'm gone." She reached forward and hugged Jennifer again, much more warmly this time. "Take care, daughter. I love you."

Flustered, Jennifer hugged her back, saying, "Wait a minute, mother. Trouble? What kind of--?" But Ishtar had already vanished.

"--ask out. We could do a double-date," Oscar said, finishing his thought as the slow-time ended. "Uh-oh. Looks like trouble." He gestured toward the security camera over the doorway, where a red alarm light was revolving silently.

At the same time, Jennifer's cell phone rang. "Mrs. Fletcher?" said a male voice. "This is Brookings in Security. Dr. Pace is out of the building, and you're the next one in line. I have to inform you that there's an intruder in the building. She knocked out the people in the Restoration Room, and we think she's stolen the Declaration. We're sealing the exits now."

"The Declaration?" Jennifer gasped, her mind whirling. "Yes, close the building. But try not to alarm the tourists. Have you called the DCPD?"

"Already done. You should come to the foyer, so that you'll be on hand if there are any more decisions to be made."

"All right," said Jennifer, nodding. "You said it was a female intruder?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Brookings. "We have her on security cameras now. You'll never believe this, but it looks like the Fuchsia Fox."

Then the doors leading from the dock into the building crashed open, and sure enough, there she was... the Fuchsia Fox! Washington's resident superheroine was instantly recognizable. Her sexy, reddish purple costume was well-known -- a tight halter top with a distinctive fox head chest emblem following the delicious curves of her bust, and below her lean, bare midriff a matching 14-inch miniskirt. Her legs were clad in ankle boots, her slender arms in elbow length gloves. Even her face, framed with shoulder-length brunette hair, was identical to the face so often seen on the television news! For a moment, Jennifer was simply too stunned to speak.

The Fox was carrying two objects. Cradled in her left arm was a cylindrical plastic tube about a yard long, just right for holding the rolled-up Declaration of Independence! And in her right hand she carried a big gun. Her eyes quickly travelled across the docks, taking notice of the three people and, more importantly, the hummer. "YOU!" she commanded, pointing the gun at the sergeant. "Get in and drive! The rest of you get against the wall!"

Neither Oscar nor the sergeant had been armed for the simple task of carrying unclassified documents to be archived. As both of them raised their hands, the sergeant moved obediently toward the vehicle, but Oscar stopped him. "I'm in charge here," he spoke up. "I'll do it."

"Suits me, hunk," the superheroine said, sliding into the passenger seat. "Get in! Eureka!"

"It'll be okay, Jenn," Oscar whispered to Jennifer as he moved toward the driver's side. "The Fox must have a good reason for doing this."

"But Oscar, she's not--" Jennifer broke off, biting her lip. How could she tell him she was certain that this was an imposter, because SHE was the Fuchsia Fox?


***

Chapter 3 --


Jennifer could almost feel her bracelets of Ishtar throbbing with power as her instincts screamed at her to chase after Oscar and his captor. But with both the sergeant and the security camera watching her, unless she wanted to compromise her secret identity she could only stand by, helpless to act, as the hummer backed away from dock area. The doors to the building burst open again, and Brookings and four other security men swarmed onto the dock as the vehicle turned into traffic and was lost to sight.

"Subject is an olive drab military Hummer heading north on 7th Street," Brookings said urgently into his hand-held radio as three of the men with him sprinted toward the street. Screaming sirens announced the presence of two District of Columbia police cars rushing off in pursuit. "Mrs. Fletcher?" the security man said briskly. "Let's get you inside, ma'am."

"But... but I--" Jennifer desperately tried to think up some excuse so that she could slip away and change into her costume, but her mind was blank. Numbly she allowed herself to be led back inside the building. Poor Oscar was in the hands of that criminal imposter, and there was nothing the Fuchsia Fox could do about it. With all her powers, she felt helpless.


***


Oscar drove, making sharp turns to the left and right, following the instructions snapped at him by "the Fox". For the time being, he was too busy admiring her body and wondering what was up to pay much attention to where they were going. At first they were being chased by two police cars, but then two other green hummers appeared as decoys, and the pursuit fell behind. It was beginning to look like a well-planned heist.

"So what's the deal, Fox?" Oscar asked, making conversation. "You can tell me. I won't--"

"Shut up and drive," she replied, keeping him covered by the gun while glancing at the sky as if she expected to be chased by someone airborne. She seemed almost disappointed that they weren't.

"I mean, I know it must be something big. I just want to know--"

"You want to know what the deal is, hunk?" the superheroine interrupted. "The deal is I wised up. I realized that being a do-gooder doesn't pay very well."

Gracefully she slid across the seat, pressing her smooth, spandex-clad body against his. Keeping the barrel of her gun rigidly pointed at his chest, her left arm snaked seductively across his broad shoulders. Oscar could smell her sweet, feminine scent, feel her bent knee almost in his lap, her soft breast rubbing against his arm. He glanced downward, enjoying his birds-eye view of her lush cleavage. He groaned as, between his legs, his trouser snake grew thick and hard.

The Fox grinned as she noticed the bulge. "My what huge teeth you have, you big, bad wolf," she said slyly. "Once I get my pay-off, I'm going to need a boy toy to help me spend it. What do you say, hunk? You and me?"


***


For Jennifer, it felt like the longest day of her life. Dr. Pace soon returned, but she kept the young assistant busy running the routine business of the archives, since they were trying hard to keep the theft from becoming public knowledge. Jennifer even had to have lunch in her office, which had been turned into a command post by Lt. Harry Caldwell of the D.C. Police Department.

"She apparently got into the building dressed as a tourist," reported Brookings. "We found her disguise in a ladies room near the Public Vaults. It looks like she used the ventilation ducts from there. She knocked out everyone in the Restoration Room with sleep gas."

"We just found the hummer," said one of the detectives, "abandoned on New Hampshire Avenue."

"What about Oscar?" Jennifer couldn't help blurting out. "The officer she kidnapped?"

"No sign of him. Sorry."

"None of this sounds like the Fuchsia Fox I know," said Caldwell sourly, despite the evidence of the surveillance cameras. He sighed reluctantly. "Dr. Pace, the perpetrator is probably in Maryland by now. We have to make the decision soon whether to call the FBI in on this."

"Lieutenant," said an officer guarding the door, "there's a reporter here -- Keri Keller from channel 3. She says she has important information."

The beautiful young redhead was escorted into the office. "I found this on my desk not fifteen minutes ago," she said, holding out a thumb drive. "You'd better take a look."

On the drive was a video file. The Fuchsia Fox -- or a girl who looked very much like her -- was standing in front of a plain, unremarkable cinderblock wall. Almost off the picture, you could see the corner of a small fire alarm, such as you might see in a factory or a chemical laboratory. Her hands were draped lightly around the neck and shoulders of Oscar Jenkins, who was on his knees in front of her. HIS hands were occupied caressing the girl's creamy smooth bare thighs, moving upward underneath her sassy little miniskirt, squeezing her supple, round butt cheeks and sliding back down again.

Jennifer was relieved to see that Oscar was all right, although less than pleased at what he was doing. All the police officers and security men in the room inched closer to the monitor screen, watching spellbound as Jenkins lifted the "Fox's" tiny skirt out of the way, then leaned closer so that he could put his mouth over her snatch.

The girl who looked like the Fox let out a soft, shuddery moan, spreading her legs a little further apart as Oscar pulled down her fuchsia panties, showing everyone her shaved pussy for a brief moment before he went to work, his tongue sliding apart the tender folds of her wet cooch. Jennifer, watching from the back of the room, couldn't help feeling a little aroused, and at the same time embarrassed. The way the other men in the room were ogling the girl who looked so much like her, it was almost as if they were watching Jenn get eaten.

Languidly the girl opened her eyes and looked directly at the camera. "You know what I have, and I know what it's worth," she said, smiling. Oscar was really going to town on her now. He was obviously very experienced at this kind of thing. While his eyes looked up at her with pure unadulterated lust, his mouth waggled back and forth across her clitoris, sucking noisily at her juices. Jennifer crossed her legs in self-defence, squirming in her seat. She could so easily imagine that it was HER up there on the screen, that those were HER legs he was kneeling in between, HER love hole he was tasting. His hands were roaming upward along the girl's lean, lithe body, groping for her perky tits and squeezing her firm globes like grapefruits...

Alchema! Jennifer thought suddenly, recognizing the shapes of those breasts. It had to be! Who else could counterfeit her face so perfectly, with her derma-plasm masks? And it explained Oscar's behavior -- he must be under the influence of her aphrodisiac potion! But where did that knowledge leave her? How could she convince Lt. Caldwell that the wanton slut in this video wasn't really the Fuchsia Fox?

"Because I'm in a very good mood," the girl on the video continued breathlessly, her hips thrusting gently up and down as Oscar ate her snatch, "I'm only going to ask for twenty million dollars in new, unmarked bills. Have it ready by five o'clock. I'll contact you later to tell you where. Don't try anything, or you'll never see the item again. Oh... my... God!" She suddenly closed her eyes and gasped from either a genuine orgasm or a very good imitation of one. Jennifer felt her own cheeks flush crimson as the video ended, much to the disappointment of the watching policemen, who immediately started it again from the beginning.

"I suppose," said Dr. Pace evenly, "it's time to call the FBI..."

"That woman is not the Fuchsia Fox," declared Caldwell, who had been watching the video as intently as the others. The men looked at him dubiously. Jennifer held her breath. Was he going to call attention to the well-known fact (well-known at least to a young woman with slight insecurity issues about her bust size) that the Fox was only a B-cup?

"That woman has green eyes. The Fox has brown eyes." Jennifer released her breath in a whispered thank you, feeling absurdly flattered that he had actually noticed the color of her eyes.

"There was a note included with it," said Keri Keller, "demanding that it be broadcast over the air at four. I know the Fox; she's saved my life more than once. So I managed to talk my station manager out of it. But this hussy could easily send it to another station with less scruples."

Everyone's eyes went to the wall clock. It was a quarter to four now.

"Dr. Pace, may I be excused?" Jennifer said suddenly, no longer able to bear the tension. "I don't feel well."

The older woman looked at her sympathetically. "Of course. This is difficult for all of us. Why don't you go to the lounge and lie down for a while?"


***


Chapter 4 --


Jennifer went straight to the O'Brien Gallery, which she knew was closed for renovations. On the way, she took out her phone and speed-dialed her husband at the Pentagon.

"Jenn!" he said in a low voice. "Sergeant Walker told us about your problems over there. Any word on Oscar?"

"Nothing yet, darling," she said. "But I'm going to get him back safe. I promise!"

"I know you will, angel," he assured her.

"I've got to go." As the girl returned her phone to her purse, she saw her other phone, the one with the untraceable line. There were already four text messages on it from Lt. Caldwell to the Fuchsia Fox. It reassured her to know that he had never considered for a moment that the imposter was really her.

Jennifer pulled one of her patented quick-changes. Less than five minutes later, she strode into the command post as the real, the genuine, the one and only Fuchsia Fox.

The police detectives and security men frankly gawked at her, speechless, obviously comparing her to the woman still visible on the monitor in that x-rated video -- and it wasn't much of a stretch for Jennifer to assume that they were trying to picture her with her panties off as well. But there really was no comparison. Alchema may have exactly copied the heroine's costume and her physical appearance, but she couldn't copy the subtle aura of allure generated by her suit's Zumerian fabric, the gentle smoothing of feminine lines, the sheer sex appeal that incidentally kept people from recognizing her as Jennifer Traylor Fletcher.

"Fox! Thank God!" said Caldwell. "I've been texting you all day!"

"Yes, I know, lieutenant," Jennifer said. "I'm sorry. I had... other matters to attend to."

The detective waved that aside. Many people assumed that the Fox had a secret identity, perhaps as a billionairess or a movie star. The difficulty was that she was just so damned beautiful, she would surely stand out in any conceivable disguise. Caldwell himself had long ago stopped trying to puzzle it out. "Never mind that. It's enough that you're here now." He quickly filled her in on everything that had happened.

"Can you show me where the lieutenant's hummer was found?" the Fox asked briskly.

There was a big board with a map of the city. Caldwell pointed out the spot on New Hampshire Avenue where Oscar's hummer had been abandoned, right at the border of the District of Columbia. "And the decoy cars were last seen here... and here. Do you have an idea?"

"Just a hunch, lieutenant," she replied thoughtfully. After their previous encounter, Jenn had checked up on Alchema under her real name, Dr. Tara Foster. It turned out that, before the bank foreclosed on it, she once owned a chemical laboratory in the College Park area, which was only a couple of miles beyond New Hampshire Avenue. And the backdrop on the video could have been a laboratory of some kind. "It's a pretty long shot. Maybe you should go ahead and arrange the ransom money. I'll be back before five o'clock." She spun on her heel and strode from the room.


***


"Almost four o'clock," said the henchman, grinning as he turned on the portable television set and tuned it to channel 3. "They should be broadcasting that video any minute now."

Alchema scoffed. Half hidden behind the open door of a storage cabinet, she was changing back into her own blue and red outfit. There was no use trying to keep up the pretense of being the Fuchsia Fox after her derma-plasm mask had started to dissolve. Oscar Jenkins, sitting in a chair with manacles on his wrists, and the four mercenaries provided by Damien Devlin, dressed in black Kevlar body armor, all watched the woman's tantalizing movements as she wiggled into her clothes. She emerged tugging on her yellow boots.

"They're not going to broadcast the video, idiot!" she said, adjusting the gold doll-like mask over her burned face. "Keri Keller is a friend of the Fuchsia Fox. Why do you think I sent it to her? She took it straight to the police, where the Fox has certainly seen it by now. She's probably so angry, she'll insist upon delivering the ransom money herself when the time comes."

"And that's when we capture her, right?" said the thug.

Alchema sighed. "Yes, that's when we capture her. Why don't you men get into position?"

The old laboratory had sat unused and uninhabited for almost a year, but was still perfectly serviceable. Here in the heart of the building, the main lab looked almost like a factory with it two-story high ceiling, four long lab tables plus a jumble of equipment and storage cabinets piled along the walls. In the middle was an enormous apparatus that looked like a walk-in annealing oven. Overhead, pipes and heating conduits were visible below narrow skylights in the roof.

This room only had two entrances, both of them broad, heavy fire doors. The one on the north end led toward the building's main entrance, which had a wide lobby perfect for an ambush. The other led to a warren of small offices and storage rooms. There was a rear exit in that direction, but it was strictly an exit, and in addition they had booby-trapped it with explosives, ensuring that the main entrance was the only way in.

"Sure," said the thug, grinning. "Gotta pick out a good spot." In his mind he was already spending the million dollars each of them had been promised over and above their standard fee for bringing the superheroine in alive. The four of them each picked up heavy ion rifles and disappeared through the north fire door.

"Those jerks," muttered Oscar, rattling the loose chains of his manacles in frustration. "You've got a neat bag of tricks, lady, but tricks won't capture the Fuchsia Fox."

Alchema strolled to another table, where the Declaration of Independence lay still inside its protective tube beside a pile of gadgets. "You might be surprised, hunk," the woman said mildly, hefting a weapon about the size of a sawed-off shotgun. "Now be a good boy toy and shut up so I can think." Nervously she began to stroll back and forth. Twenty feet one way, her heels clicking on the tile floor. Twenty feet back...

She hadn't completed more than five when the skylight overhead crashed open and a beautiful female figure in a skimpy, purplish-pink costume dropped from the ceiling. "Lieutenant Jenkins, are you all right?" the Fox said, landing on her feet, her miniskirt swirling seductively around her trim waist as she took a step toward the soldier. "Alchema, you'd better not have hurt him!"

"Stop right where you are!" the villainess commanded, aiming the weapon at her. "What took you so long? I was beginning to worry that you hadn't pick up on any of my hints! Now, superslut, I'm going to give you this one chance to surrender."

"Why don't you take your best shot?" the stunning superheroine challenged.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Alchema squeezed the trigger of her gun. A stream of glutinous, greenish material shot out of its wide barrel, arcing toward the Fox like a lasso. Element X!

"You don't catch me that easily a second time, Tara," the young heroine said with a smug toss of her head. It wasn't a net this time, only a single coil, which the Fox could easily elude without the need to employ her force shield. She spun like a dancer, her sassy miniskirt briefly riding up to flash a glimpse of her gorgeous tail as she leaped over and let it splatter harmlessly against the wall.

"Oh, don't I?" taunted the villainess, at the same instant pressing a remote unit on her belt. A storage cabinet behind the Fox suddenly popped open and discharged about two dozen small darts. Whizzing through the air, most of them missed the alluring superheroine, a few of them glanced off her lithe, twisting form, but three scored solid hits on her pert, rounded backside.

"OUCH!" the Fox gasped, as the needles struck home in her shapely buttocks. Her lissome legs immediately felt weak and wobbly. The heroine stumbled on her high heels and landed flat on her face. Jenn tried to catch herself, but every muscle in her sylph-like frame seemed to be frozen. She couldn't move at all!

"That is my curare-derived paralysis drug," said Alchema proudly, cocking her lovely hips as she stood over the helpless superheroine in triumph. "That ought to keep you manageable for an hour or so. Some people say you're like a living doll. You're about to become one literally."


***


Chapter 5 --


This is not good, Oscar Jenkins was thinking. The Fuchsia Fox had come to his rescue, but now it looked as if SHE was the one who needed rescuing.

The four mercenaries had been summoned back, a bit disgruntled that Alchema had managed to capture the superheroine all by herself. Two of them were fiddling around with that huge, walk-in apparatus in the middle of the room, while the other two wheeled over two big glass bottles filled with some bluish liquid, which they connected to it by hoses.

"You still can't move a muscle, can you?" Alchema said, standing over the supine figure of the paralyzed Fox. Her face was unreadable behind her doll-like mask. "Well, you'd better get used to it. I don't know if you follow science fiction, but I'm about to do to you what Darth Vader did to Han Solo in 'The Empire Strikes Back'."

The Fox's brown eyes grew wide with alarm. Martin loved those movies. Wasn't that the one where Harrison Ford got mashed into a block of coal or something?

Alchema nodded in response to the horror on the heroine's face. "Yes, I see you do. The difference is that while your body will be carbonized solid, it will still look every bit as perfect as it does now. You'll literally be a living mannequin."

Jennifer's immobilized body was trembling. She could feel her pulse racing, her lungs expanding. "T-tara... d-d-don't--" she croaked, forcing her vocal cords to choke out the words.

"Don't look at me like that," the villainess snapped. "It gives me no pleasure to do this. But I have my orders."

The Fox knew what that meant. Damien Devlin was still pulling her strings, holding out the hope of fixing her ravaged face in order to make her do whatever he wanted. She also knew that further argument would be pointless.

"You won't get away with this!" Oscar shouted, yanking at his manacles. The five foot chain in between them was looped through a ring bolted to the floor in front of him. "I'll hunt you down. There's no place you can hide from me, lady."

"Oh shut up," Alchema said wearily. "I'm letting you live, aren't I? You can carry the Declaration back, once they've paid the twenty million. You know something? I liked you better as my fawning boy toy." She drew her chemical gun from its holster and pulled the trigger, squirting him once again with her milky aphrodisiac drug.

Oscar groaned as a surge of sexual arousal rushed through his body, making him feel hot all over. His cock got instantly hard inside his trousers, his testicles swollen and tender. He bit his lower lip as he gazed at Alchema's perfect body, so sleek and sexy and nnnnn irresistible in that clingy blue top and tight red bikinis. Weakly he subsided into his chair.

"All right, let's get her into the chamber," the goddess snapped to her minions.

Two of the mercs stood by the machine making final checks as the other two picked up the Fuchsia Fox. The beautiful brunette heroine moaned inarticulately, but she couldn't even put up a struggle as the grinning males grabbed her alluring body and lifted her off the floor, taking advantage of her helplessness to fondle her supple breasts. Desperately she concentrated on her bracelets of Ishtar, feeling their power flowing through her sylph-like body, but still unable to move a muscle. There had to be something she could do!

As Oscar watched the thugs carrying the Fox like that, a fresh tidal wave of lust shot through his body, completely eclipsing all thought of Alchema. The Fuchsia Fox! Unnnnnnnn! She had been the object of so many fantasies! Adrenalin poured into his bloodstream as his hands tightened around the chain. Grrrrr!!! With a deep, primal groan, he pulled at the chain for all he was worth, but it refused to budge...

Alchema was checking over the control panel of her machine, flicking switches, warming up the generators. The thugs carrying the Fox were getting closer to the hatchway of the machine. Now they were setting her inside. Concentrate! She had to do something or it would be too late!

Suddenly a blue, pencil-thin beam of energy shot from the superheroine's bracelet, striking Oscar's chain and severing it! Unexpectedly finding himself freed, the soldier almost fell. "Let her go!" he growled, like a caveman defending his mate.

"Stop him, you morons!" Alchema cried, as Oscar lunged for the table piled with her gadgets. Snatching up the wide-barrelled gun she had left there, he took aim and fired. The stream of Element X shot out, ensnaring the villainess and two of her minions in its unbreakable coils. "NO!" Alchema shrieked, finding herself bound and helpless along with her thugs.

The other two mercenaries released the Fox and rushed toward Oscar. The superheroine suddenly activated her flight capability. But with no way to control her direction of travel, her alluring body merely bumped hard into the side of the doorway and hung there. While one of the mercs continued toward Oscar, the other turned back to push the girl back inside.

"Throw the switch before she escapes!" shouted Alchema. With her arms pinned to her sides by the Element X, there was nothing she could do. The henchman beside her, tugging his hand free with difficulty, reached across, grabbed the activating switch, and yanked it down.

The carbonizer began to hum as the other mercenary reached the Fox in order to shove her back inside the chamber. At that precise moment, the lithe young heroine desperately shifted her weight and skimmed through the doorway. Twisting in mid-air, her legs knocked the henchman into the chamber, taking her place. There was suddenly a great rush of steam, accompanied by a horrible bubbling sound and the screams of the mercenary being carbonized alive...

A second later, the Fox crashed into the remaining thug from behind, knocking him off his feet. The spunky girl continued a few more yards then flopped awkwardly to the floor, unable to control her direction of flight any longer. Oscar grabbed a mini-grenade from the table and tossed it. The grenade burst in a cloud of reeking irritant gas, which left the mercenary coughing and incapacitated.

"Fox, mmmmm, oh Fox..." Oscar groaned as he picked up the limp superheroine in his arms, unable to resist kissing her face and neck, and squeezing her soft, shapely little breasts. His trouser snake felt like it was going to explode if he didn't ram it into her soon.

"Os...car... please..." the Fox said weakly, her body tingling all over as he touched her body, massaging her pliant coconuts, making her nipples hard. "This isn't... the time..."

"Oh right," the horny soldier gasped, struggling to fight off the aphrodisiac by effort of will. "Got to... get you out of here..." Quickly he lifted her slim 110 pounds into his arms and made for the fire doors. Needing a free hand to work the handle, he shifted the stunning superlady over his left shoulder and pressed on, pausing only to jam the door shut behind him.

Unfortunately, he had picked the wrong door. "At least something has gone right," Alchema said bitterly. "They're heading into a cul-de-sac. We've got them!" She was squirming uncomfortably in the rigid bonds of her own Element X, her nubile, scantily-clad body trapped in close contact with the muscular male bodies of her two mercenaries. The villainess rolled her eyes as the men deliberately rubbed against her curvy frame, not in any great hurry to escape. And the other minion was still coughing and choking from her irritant gas grenade. "If we can only get out of this ridiculous predicament..."

The Fox, being carried like a sack over Oscar's muscular shoulder, his hands erotically caressing her creamy thighs and her up-thrust tail, couldn't help dwelling upon what an incredibly undignified and humiliating position this was. But she was hardly in a position to complain.

"Uh-oh," Oscar said suddenly. "Dead end. They've booby-trapped the back door." Quickly he retreated and ducked into one of the empty offices, where he found the windows firmly barred. Gently he laid the Fox down on the desk. Seeing her like that, lying on her back with her breasts jutting upward and her legs half-spread, sent another overwhelming jolt of lust through his body. Oh damn, his boner felt hard as iron! "Oh God, Fox, I can't resist any more..."

"Oscar please... don't..." the heroine moaned, paralyzed and helpless to fight as the sex-crazed man jumped her, his hands pawing at her breasts while his mouth, like a trail of fire, ravaged her face and swan-like neck. Desperately she struggled to think of some way out of the trap they had fallen into, but Oscar's squeezing and fondling was too much of a distraction. Even worse, her own body was beginning to respond. Her satin skin felt flushed and hot. Her pussy trembled with arousal, tingling with the desire to be touched. And that could only mean that all this close contact had transferred some of the aphrodisiac potion onto her body as well!

"I'm sorry about this, Fox," the soldier groaned, climbing on top of her. "I can't fight it... If I don't bang you right now, I'm going to explode..."

"Oh God no..." Jenn whispered, finding herself kissing back almost against her will. Their mouths locked together, tongues mingling in passion. No! She couldn't do this, not with her husband's best friend! Never mind that he wasn't aware that she was Martin's wife, thanks to the image-enhancing properties of her costume. It was one thing to fantasize about it... but in reality she just couldn't! Only... how was she supposed to STOP him?


***


Chapter 6 --


Oscar grabbed the front of the Fuchsia Fox's halter top, pulling upward to expose her sweet little breasts, flawless and unprotected. "Oooooh," the paralyzed superheroine moaned, lying inert underneath him like a love doll as he took her left breast in his mouth, licking and sucking. A few moments later, he moved to her right boob, subjecting it to the same treatment. Ohhhhh it felt so GOOD! Thanks to the aphrodisiac drug she had been exposed to, she wanted so much to give in...

"God you've got gorgeous little tits!" he moaned in between mouthfuls. "I just wanna eat them!" And while he was lavishing attention up there, his hands were busy further down. The Fox could already feel his rigid manhood through the cloth of his uniform trousers, stroking rhythmically against her thigh. Her mother wasn't kidding... he had a HUGE gollywanger! The very touch of its masculine hardness made her feel weak and submissive.

"No, Oscar! Please don't..." the Fox protested, desperately trying to ignore her sexual arousal and focus on her bracelets. Despite their power aura, her muscles were paralyzed by the drug, her body felt as if it were made of lead. But if she could get her half-Zumerian metabolism pumping faster, maybe she could work it off...

Suddenly in the distance, there was pounding on the fire door. Some of the villains, at least, must have gotten free and were coming after them. Oscar completely ignored them, so intent was he upon boffing the object of his desire. Jenn felt a fresh wave of shame, her heart thumping faster and faster. On top of everything else, how humiliating would it be if Alchema and her thugs caught the two of them coupled together, humping like a couple of randy minks?

"Oh man, Fox, I gotta nail you..." Oscar groaned, his fingers reaching under the Fox's miniskirt, tugging at her bikini panties, pulling them over her hips and down her legs, while his mouth continued kissing her breasts.

"Unnnnnnnn," the superheroine moaned. Her womanhood felt wet and clammy, glad to be free of the confining fabric of her panties. She could feel her own juicy wetness, the smooth, slippery feel as his fingers pushed boldly into her love hole, teasing, her buttocks rocking back and forth against the desktop as she struggled to resist. Some movement was finally returning to her muscles, but it wasn't enough. She still felt as if she were bound in a strait-jacket.

Oscar fumbled with his belt and zipper, dropping his pants. Jenn stared aghast at his one-eyed monster, rising up like some serpent. There was no way that thing was going to fit inside her! Desperately she tried to get her arms to move. "Oscar, stop!" she cried frantically. She managed to grab his shoulders, grappling with him as he bore down on her, strong enough to hold him at bay, but not quite strong enough to push him off of her.

"You say no, baby, but you really mean yes..." he said, clearly too far gone with lust to stop himself. Like it or not, she had to give him some kind of release or she'd never get out from under him. She had to let him take her. In order to win this struggle, she had to surrender...

Oscar spread the Fox's legs wide and dived into her defenseless cleft. Jenn's body still felt like lead as his randy schlong pushed through the tender petals of her flower. God it was a tight fit! She could feel the amazing pressure of his thick shaft working its way inside, almost painfully as her womanhood slowly expanded to accommodate his girth.

The continued hammering on the fire door was only a distant annoyance now. The Fox groaned with arousal as Oscar's cock penetrated into her tunnel. It seemed as if she could feel every inch of it, hitting her g-spot and sending every nerve inside her into a frenzy. "Oh... wow!" she breathed, as her body was rocked by an orgasm. "This feels so... so... God!"

Then he was pushing in and out, riding her slowly and deliberately. Jenn told herself that it was only the drug, only chemical, as a burning flood of carnal emotions began to rise up inside the core of her body, higher and higher as if it meant to drown her. At the same time she could feel her own muscles responding. "Oh baby... push! PUSH!" the heroine gasped. Her hips were thrusting back now in sync with his masterful strokes, until without warning the man on top of her had his own climax, releasing his seed inside her. For Jenn, it was almost like a bomb going off inside her womb as she felt his hot semen gushing into her.

"OH MAN... OH MAN..." Oscar gasped, his penis shifting position inside her as he let go with another tsunami of sperm. Underneath him, Jenn squealed with helpless pleasure as she climaxed a second time. And still more sperm came flooding from his monster. Good grief! How much jizm could a man HAVE?

"Woo-boy that was great!" Oscar wheezed, his big chest heaving as he rolled off of her.

But the Fox wasn't done with him. Her body was still quivering with post-coital ecstasy as she changed positions, wrapping her silk-gloved hands around his throbbing johnson and pumping him vigorously. Oscar groaned as his peter, which had been about to deflate, shot back to attention. The superheroine leaned forward, letting her tongue slide along the length of his throbbing member, rubbing wetly over the ridges of his shaft. Oscar closed his eyes reaching out blindly to take hold of her luxurious brunette tresses as she took his rod into her divine mouth, her lips expertly caressing his knob, her tongue licking him like a lollipop. To his amazement, he shot yet another load of cum, directly into her mouth.

And that was all she wrote. They both collapsed on the desk, weakly gasping for breath.

"I'm glad it was good for you," the Fox whispered, tugging her halter top back down over her lovely breasts. Clearly her multiple orgasms had finished the work of metabolizing the paralysis drug she had been given. She could move again, although every muscle in her body felt stiff and painful. Suddenly she clutched herself in alarm the full impact of what she had just done hit her. She looked at Oscar, her husband's best friend, as she wondered what she could possibly say. How was she going to explain this to Martin?

Mercifully, just then they heard the fire door crash open. Wonderful! the superheroine thought with relief. A life and death battle against a supervillainess and her heavily armed mercenaries! That's sounds like something I can deal with! "You'd better let me handle this one," she said to Oscar, sliding off the desk and pulling her panties back on.

The three mercenaries were strolling down the hallway, glancing into office doors to the right and left as they came. Expecting only a single unarmed man and a paralyzed girl, they hadn't even brought their heavy weapons. The first two had police batons out. Suddenly the Fuchsia Fox stepped into the hall a few yards ahead of them and planted her slender body in their path.

"You guys are in so much trouble," the spunky superheroine smirked, tugging at one elbow-length glove, "you just wouldn't believe it." Her entire body still felt like one big ache, but she didn't dare let on.

The first two minions charged, thinking that their body armor gave them a decided edge over one slim girl clad in spandex. They were right, up to a point. The body armor kept their bones from breaking as the Fox dodged their attacks, her fist striking like a battering ram. As the first thug went down, the other managed to slip behind the lissome lady, bringing his baton down on the back of her head. But this time her force shield was active. As the club glanced off at an angle, the young heroine spun with a kick that sent her attacker flying painfully straight through the ply-board wall.

The remaining man opened fire with his Uzi. The Fox smiled grimly. Her body felt sore and almost totally wiped out, but her bracelets of Ishtar provided all the power she needed. Briskly she strode toward the remaining man, a fusillade of ricochets bouncing off her force shield. As the man panicked and started to retreat, the sexy superheroine leaped after him and slammed him unconscious.

Now to deal with Alchema! The Fox charged through into the main room. Tara was waiting, standing next to her infernal machine, her multi-purpose chemical gun at the ready. "I should have known," the villainess smirked. "When I heard the gunfire I knew that you had somehow shaken off the paralysis. You never cease to surprise me with your resourcefulness, Fox."

"Some people just have it," the heroine said modestly. "Are you going to come quietly, Tara?"

"You know I can't do that," Alchema replied, raising her chemical gun and firing. A stream of liquid shot forth, which upon contact with air immediately expanded into a dark, boiling cloud. As it drifted toward the Fox, it burst into flames. The stunning superheroine hesitated, but was not overly impressed. There was plenty of space in this big room to skirt around it and--

The Declaration of Independence! It was lying in its tube directly in the path of the incendiary cloud! Jenn's heart leapt into her throat. Forgetting all about the villain, forgetting her own safetly, the spunky lady lunged for the tube. The cloud was bearing down, the intense heat melting everything in its path. Trusting in her force shield to protect her, the Fox got as close as she dared, hoisted up a lab table and swinging it into the heart of the cloud. To her relief, the cloud dispersed, raining flaming residue all over the floor, but the Declaration was safe!

Out the corner of her eye, the Fox could see the fire door opposite clamp shut as Alchema made her escape. She would dearly love to chase after her, but her weary bones didn't have that much perk left in them. Besides, that would leave Oscar alone to deal with four mercenaries who might be coming around at any moment. Let her go for now. Surely they'd meet again...


***


Epilogue --


Fifteen minutes later, the laboratory was swarming with District of Columbia police. Lieutenant Caldwell personally took charge of the tube with the Declaration, after carefully making sure that it was still intact. "Dr. Pace will be happy to see this back safe and sound," he said. "I knew you'd come through for us, Fox."

"I'm just glad that I could do my part," the heroine said, watching as the four mercenaries were marched past her in handcuffs. Caldwell went with them. The men were claiming that as far as they knew, Alchema had been the boss. The Fox knew better. It was Damien Devlin, but without Alchema, they had no proof of that.

Somehow in the midst of the confusion, Oscar was standing beside her, grinning from ear to ear. "Wow!" he said. "What a ride, huh?"

The Fox blushed faintly. She had been struggling unsuccessfully to forget about their little one-on-one. How far could she count on his discretion? "Um... Lieutenant... er... Jenkins, isn't it? I hope you don't--"

"I know what you're going to say," he interrupted. "I can't believe I lost it like that. You must think I'm some kind of doofus."

The heroine sighed in relief. "Er... not at all, Lt. Jenkins. I know from experience how powerful Alchema's drugs are. There's no reason to feel ashamed about succumbing."

"But I have to tell you..." he said, sidling even closer, "you were amazing."

"Thanks," Jenn said, blushing to the roots of her hair. "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Yeah? Maybe, like... we could go out sometime? A date maybe? I can get tickets to the Venus2 concert, or to the ballet if you'd rather--"

"I don't think that would be a good idea," the Fox said quickly, folding her arms across her bust.

"Hey, come on! We'd be great together!"

"Don't push it, lieutenant."

And suddenly there was Martin, making his way past the police line, officially to check up on his wayward officer. Oscar saluted him. "Lieutenant Jenkins reporting, sir."

"At ease, Oscar," Martin said, clasping him in a bear hug. "You okay, you big dope?"

"Better than okay, Fletch," Oscar said. "It was nothing a pair of red-blooded American heroes couldn't handle." Leaning toward the Fox, he flashed the stunning superheroine a wink, then sidled away. Martin could have sworn that he also gave her a quick pat on the fanny.

"Uh, Jenn," Martin whispered suspiciously, "is there anything you want to tell me about?"

The superheroine rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you all about it later, darling."


THE END>>>>

By Centurion
posted on his behalf by Flirty

[DrDominator9]

Enjoyed this story, as per usual. Seems that Fuschia Fox should keep her power shield up the moment she goes into battle. That dart in the rump trick seems like a rookie mistake for a heroine of her experience.

Also, that is going to be quite an awkward double date with Oscar and the girl he brings to go out with Martin and Jenn.

[shevek]

Great story, Flirty! Right now I'm working on a story as well with a collaborator on the forum, so it's nice to see results as good as this, I hope I can measure up.

I get the idea that it is *your* fantasy to be Fuchsia Fox, then?

[flirty_but_nice]

Enjoyed this story, as per usual. Seems that Fuschia Fox should keep her power shield up the moment she goes into battle. That dart in the rump trick seems like a rookie mistake for a heroine of her experience.

Also, that is going to be quite an awkward double date with Oscar and the girl he brings to go out with Martin and Jenn.

Hi Dr. Thank you for the nice feedback. I hear what you are saying about the power shield up, but two things about that. Number 1, where is the fun in that? <wink>; Number 2, I am not sure if Centurion will agree with this thought, but I like to think that willing her protective power shield into place is a very power taxing endeavor. Ergo, if she over uses it, she'll find her power drained which will in turn leave her not able to perform up to standard and ultimately leave her vulnerable as well. Hence, generally she only uses it when necessary.

I know, weak excuses, but nevertheless, like I said, there's not much fun in her always being so impervious.

As for the double date thing, yes so many interestingly saucy possibilities, hey. lol

Thank you so much for the feedback. I'll be sure to pass your comments on to Centurion.


..............................

Great story, Flirty! Right now I'm working on a story as well with a collaborator on the forum, so it's nice to see results as good as this, I hope I can measure up.

I get the idea that it is *your* fantasy to be Fuchsia Fox, then?

Hi shevek. Well, I must admit that when reading the Fox stories and when bombarding Centurion with all of my naughty Fox story suggestion, yes, I am totally imagining myself as her! <blush>

Thank you for your kind words. Most of the credit, probably about 95% of it, must go to Centurion, though. He takes the crazy scenarios I throw at him and molds them and writes them into generally well thought out, coherent, interesting whole stories ... something I am quite incapable of doing. I will pass your kind words on to him. Thank you again for the feedback!

[flirty_but_nice]

Enjoyed this story, as per usual. Seems that Fuschia Fox should keep her power shield up the moment she goes into battle. That dart in the rump trick seems like a rookie mistake for a heroine of her experience.

Also, that is going to be quite an awkward double date with Oscar and the girl he brings to go out with Martin and Jenn.

Hi Dr. Here is the reply from Centurion to your comment ...

"I agree that it's a rookie mistake, and one which she has fallen for only twice that I can recall. I don't think the force shield is that much of a "drain" really, but she doesn't bother with it when she thinks her agility is sufficient to the purpose that she can get away without it. By way of example, I've seen Green Lantern do the same thing. Quite often he doesn't bother with his force field unless he knows he's fighting somebody with a projectile weapon. In this case, Alchema's previous modus operandi did not include drugged darts. The Fox will definitely know better than to underestimate her next time. I much appreciate all of you taking time to comment."

[Zeta Clark]

This story had a fun Wonder Woman television show vibe (working for the government, secret identities, a visit from mom. etc.). Wonderfully blended together. I enjoyed it quite a bit.

My favorite part though, would have to be..."gollywanger"...hehe.

[flirty_but_nice]

This story had a fun Wonder Woman television show vibe (working for the government, secret identities, a visit from mom. etc.). Wonderfully blended together. I enjoyed it quite a bit.

My favorite part though, would have to be..."gollywanger"...hehe.

Zeta, thanks for your kind feedback! I know that I really liked that Centurion has been receptive to some of the more "naughty" suggestions I have thrown at him, like having a situation arise where the Fox gets sexually involved with Martin's best friend, Oscar, which he did indeed incorporate into this story.

I too was very much amused when I read Centurion's draft and saw his stiffy characterized as gollywanger. It actually caused me to chuckle out loud! That one is 100% credited to Centurion. He does indeed prefer to try to keep things "light", no matter how dark I have been pushing him to go. I generally like that he seems to so excellently reign in so many of my warped ideas, generally giving them a nice, delightfully lighter treatment.

Anyway, thank you so much for the feedback. I don't think most readers understand how motivating feedback can be, especially positive feedback. I really think the more positive feedback an author receives, the more motivated he or she will be in writing up MORE stories! I think we can all agree that more stories is a very good thing!

[flirty_but_nice]

This story had a fun Wonder Woman television show vibe (working for the government, secret identities, a visit from mom. etc.). Wonderfully blended together. I enjoyed it quite a bit.

My favorite part though, would have to be..."gollywanger"...hehe.

Centurion's response ...

"I really appreciate this because I worried over that word for a long time. I pondered every single euphemism I could think of. It had to be a word that expressed both Ishtar's appreciation for Oscar's manliness and at the same time her slightly frivolous attitude about men in general. I'm happy to see that I nailed it. : - )"