“Ah yeah, baby. Yeah. Flex those thighs. Yeah yeah, that’s it. Run for daddy. Let daddy see how they jiggle. Ooooo yeah.”
It was another late night in the Cathedral of Pain. Normally a place of misery, treachery, and deceit, a place where all hope is abandoned and vile wickedness reigns supreme. But tonight, like the past several nights, the sounds reverberating down the halls made this citadel of all things evil sound more like a horny 15-year old’s bedroom at night with the door locked.
Inside the private chambers of the lord of this bastion of malice, the flickering glow of a big screen computer monitor was the only source of light to be found. In the shadows, his face barely illuminated by the monitor, the feared and treacherous Master Disaster sat in his oversized leather executive chair, his attention glued to the images dancing across the screen. His massive, beastly frame hunched low in his seat, his $2,000 Italian-made custom designer slacks crumpled unceremoniously down around his ankles. His monolithic engorged member squeezed tight inside a huge meaty fist. Were it not for his size, the ape-like furrowed brow and large, almost fang-like teeth clenching in wanton desire, and the sheer opulence of the gothic surroundings, one might look upon this scene and indeed think they were seeing a typical midnight porn-a-thon inside some pimple faced teenager’s room. It was an odd sight indeed to see such a powerful force of evil seemingly obsessed like a desperate schoolboy drooling over the captain of the local cheer squad, but obsessed he was. Of that there was no doubt.
And what were these images of, one might ask? None other than the latest flag waving champion of patriotism, American Glory, newest member of local super hero team The Justice Squad. Ever since she first showed her face in public with “The J-Squad” during a routine bust of some of his henchmen-in-training who were conducting a basic hit-and-run on First National Loan & Trust, she was all he could think about. He was immediately struck with an insatiable lust for this young heroine. All his free time was spent in that big leather chair, combing the internet, Googling every picture he could find, reading and re-reading every interview and news article, endlessly looping every minute of amateur video posted on YouTube. He couldn’t get enough. Maybe it was her spunky, vivacious spirit. Maybe it was her pure, virginal appearance. Or maybe it was just the red, white and blue theme of her costume (for the all-mighty Master Disaster secretly harbored a fetish for that whole patriotic princess shtick). Who knows? But one thing he did know with all certainty… he must possess American Glory.
She... would... be… HIS.
Finally, the time had come and he had had enough. Master Disaster had come to realize that too much of his attention was being diverted to chasing this unholy obsession, and he was neglecting his evil schemes and duties. It was time to make this fantasy into a reality. With his free hand he reached over and pushed an intercom button. Within seconds the voice one of his many disposable acolytes squeaked in response.
“Yes my lord. How may I serve your masterfulness this evening?”
“Which one are you?” the criminal mastermind inquired.
“Wormsley, sir,” was the reply.
“Wormsley, take this down.” Master Disaster growled into the intercom, never letting his eyes leave the frozen image of American Glory dominating his computer screen. “I want a contract issued. Release it to all of the major crime networks and classifieds. Fifty million dollars to anyone who can bring me American Glory.”
“Fif-fifty m-m-million, sir?” Wormsley stuttered back in shock at the number. “Are you sure?”
The master villain pondered for a second, then responded, “Hmmm. You’re quite right, Wormsley. That is an inappropriate figure.” The toady’s sigh of relief was almost audible through the intercom’s speaker. “Make it one hundred million dollars.” Wormsley’s gulp was unmistakably audible. “That should attract the right kind of people for the job. But I want her alive and well. Be sure to make that very clear. I’ll not pay full price for damaged merchandise.”
“Y-yes sir. Of course, sir.”
“Make sure that gets released first thing in the morning. Waste no time,” Master Disaster commanded.
“Absolutely, your worshipfulness. It shall be done,” Wormsley sniveled in compliance.
“Good man. See that it is.” With that, the villain ended the conversation. He returned his full attention to the glowing image of his desire, his fist clenching tighter around his ungodly tool.
“Soon, my sweet, very soon. I will have you for my own. I shall taste of you, I shall slake my thirst for you, and when I have had my fill, you will then cease to dominate my mind. Of course,” he sneered with a vile craving, “who knows how long that will take? You may last hours, or days, or even weeks. Maybe more. And perhaps, if you are fortunate, there might be something left of you for me to sell to the highest bidder when I am done. Heh heh heh…”
* * * *
It was a lovely, sunny day in the suburbs outside Freedom City. Looking radiant as ever, the mysterious villain, Chameleona, took the opportunity to soak in some of the sun’s glorious rays out on the balcony of her private penthouse apartment. She was a truly awe inspiring vision of psychedelic sexuality. If you were to ask most people, they would say that being born a mutant, with strangely colored skin and hair, would be something that they would consider a huge disadvantage, a source of shame even. But not Chameleona. Sure, growing up, it was hard being so different from all the other kids. But as she grew into adulthood, she grew in confidence as well, and eventually she learned to take pride in her uniqueness and the benefits it could yield. And today she simply oozed with pride and vanity at her own appearance.
The villainess laid out on a deck chair in all her colorful glory. Her soft, light purple shaded skin shown alluringly in the afternoon sun. Slick with tanning oil and dripping tantalizingly with sweat, her lavender complexion glistened like a fresh spring flower dripping with early morning dew. Her body, barely covered by a rather immodest white string bikini, was perfectly toned and proportioned; just the right combination of feminine curves and athletic strength. The result was a figure that would make any man weak with desire, and any Playboy playmate green with envy. And speaking of green, her long silken hair, a color of lustrous jade, was pulled back in a single ponytail which draped casually yet tauntingly behind her and over the back of her chair. At first glance one would say that it seemed that the day was made for Chameleona; like everything was going her way. Unfortunately, nothing could be farther from the truth.
Chameleona was in a bit of a pickle. Her funds were beginning to run dry. Typically she made her living by contracting her services out to big named villains and crime bosses, services that, thanks to her special mutant abilities, made her very popular, and usually very comfortable. You see, Chameleona was a shape-shifter. She possessed the uncanny ability to change her appearance to look and sound exactly like anybody she chose to mimic. A very handy talent indeed, and one that usually put her in high demand. But not lately. Maybe it was the faltering economy, who knows. All she knew was that the crime bosses and evil masterminds bent on world conquest hadn’t been calling her. She hadn’t gotten a paying gig in over 3 months, and thanks to her expensive tastes and rather lavish standard of living, what little cash she had saved up had quickly been depleted. Worse yet, the mob boss who owned the rather posh apartment building where she lived, Sal Tiglioni, was getting impatient with her not paying her rent. He had suggested on more than one occasion that her looks, and her unique ability, could prove to be very lucrative in his prostitution racket, and he’d be more than happy to let her use her “talents” to help pay her way and keep her penthouse. She knew by the way Sal would leer at her every time they spoke that he was just itching to have her over a barrel, in more ways than one. The mere thought of it made her purple skin crawl.
The lavender lovely sat on her deck chair, her laptop positioned in her lap, and was busying herself by scouring the crime net blogosphere, looking for any potential jobs that she could take… anything to avoid becoming Sal’s next plaything. Suddenly a listing caught her attention, and her luminescent green eyes began to twinkle as she read:
WANTED: Capture and delivery of American Glory,
newly inducted member of The Justice Squad. Subject
should be incapacitated and subdued, but otherwise
unharmed, pristine, and “unspoiled”, and in full costume.
Successful contractor to receive payment of $100,000,000.00
in cash upon delivery.
Remit to the Cathedral of Pain, c/o Master Disaster.
“Hmmm, what’s this?” she wondered to herself as she considered this particular posting on ‘Craig’s Crime List’. “Looks like Master Disaster has a first class boner for that bouncy little newbie, American Glory. Heh, can’t really say I blame him. Girl’s got an ass to die for. Firm and round and tight enough to bounce a quarter off of. And those tits of hers, not too shabby. I might even call them perfect, if I didn’t already know what truly perfect breasts look like,” she mused to herself as she took a second to glance down and admire her own chest, letting her eyes momentarily follow a single bead of sweat as it slowly traced it’s way down and disappeared into her cleavage. “But come on… $100,000,000?? You’ve got to be kidding me. Maybe for Power Queen or Galactress, or even that prissy bitch Lady Justice, but not a no-name, wet behind the ears twit like American Glory. I mean, seriously, just how good a lay does he think she’ll be? Hell, for a hundred mil, I’d f@ck him, and I guarantee you I’d show him a way better time than Little Miss Flag Panties would.”
Chameleona stopped momentarily at that thought to consider the possibility of turning to a life of prostitution and the kind of money she could rake in. Then she visualized Sal’s bloated face grinning at her, and she just as quickly dismissed the idea. “Nah, I ain’t that desperate yet. Besides, if Master Disaster’s willing to drop that kind of coin for American Glory, I could take him up on his offer and keep my dignity in tact.”
She pondered the prospect for another minute or two, then her mind was made up. This job was too good to pass on. Besides, how hard could it be to tag and bag such a no-nothing little rookie like American Glory. This was the contract of a lifetime. She closed her laptop with a resounding “snap!”, then marched into her apartment to gear up for work. She had some superheroine hunting to do, and she knew she had to act quick. A price tag like this one was sure to draw the attention of lots of competitors.
* * * *
Evading the outer security of the “Enclave of Justice” was embarrassingly simple. Chameleona snickered to herself, “‘Enclave of Justice’… pffff… whatever.” Such a grand and imposing name for what in reality was nothing more than a glorified mansion with a privacy fence around the yard. Sure, it was a nice place… two stories, lots of land, nicely landscaped grounds, with their own private swimming pool and tennis courts. And that privacy fence, 8 feet of good solid brick and masonry, couldn’t have been cheap. But it certainly was no Fortress of Solitude.
After effortlessly dodging the security cameras and scaling the wall, the lovely lavender lawbreaker made her way across the estate grounds, stealthily ducking behind shrubbery and darting from tree to tree. She had donned a simple, form fitting grey jumpsuit with tactical pockets strategically placed. The front of her suit was unzipped a little lower than it probably should have been, but that’s just the way she liked it. Never let it be said that Chameleona didn’t always make a point of blending practicality with aesthetic allure. On her back she wore a small backpack, not too cumbersome and just the right size for storing some essential equipment for surveillance and property invasion.
Circling the main building, she skirted detection while scouting out the structure. After making a complete check of the perimeter, she hunkered down in a secure location out of sight and began to formulate her strategy.
“OK, looks simple enough, but looks are deceiving. Nobody knows that better than me,” she thought to herself. “And judging by the laser beam trip lines, tactile target plates, and high-end motion sensors they’ve got cleverly hidden around the outside of the house, I think it’d be safe to say that they put a lot more effort into securing the building than they did the yard. And if I miss my guess, the front door is equipped with a voice recognition/retinal eye scan combo lock system. Voice detection I can handle, but even I can’t replicate a person’s retina. That’s going to be tough. No walking in the front door on this job. Gotta to find a different way in.”
As she sat contemplating her best plan of attack, Providence extended her generosity to the shapely shape-shifter. Almost as if on queue, Chameleona heard voices approaching along the walking path to her right. Female voices. She couldn’t see who it was yet, but she could tell that they were young and lively, and there were apparently only two of them. She crouched a little lower behind her cover and waited… and almost peed herself when she saw who they were.
Around the corner and into view stepped two young heroines. One Chameleona recognized as Astro-Girl, the spunky sidekick of the big-time heroine Galactress. The second was none other than her target, American Glory. The villainess had dismissed the patriotic championette earlier as nothing more than the latest in a long line of silly little superhero wannabes, someone certainly not worthy of the obsession that Master Disaster was obviously feeling for her. But as she watched her meal ticket from her hiding place, she could now see what the big deal was. In the warmth of the afternoon sunlight, American Glory looked undeniably radiant. A young woman in full bloom of her burgeoning womanhood, she strolled with a winsome bounce that would make anyone sigh with longing for her. Her long, red hair cascaded over her shoulders with a luminescent, almost fiery glow. Her figure was the thing that wet dreams are made of. The top of her costume was a resplendent shade of blue, decorated with white stars, the long sleeves of which were met with tight red gloves that ran just above the elbows. The lower edge of her costume top extended barely below the bottom her perfect breasts, leaving all who were fortune enough to gaze upon her a tantalizing view of her toned and tanned midriff. The lower half of her costume was composed of a pair of red and white striped bikini-style panties that rode high on the sides of the hips. Her legs were long and lean, muscled perfectly, with skin that looked to be as smooth to the touch as buttered silk, and which terminated in a pair of blue knee-high boots, pointed in the front, and topped with wide white trim. As she chatted with her friend, she displayed an easy smile that made her pale blue eyes twinkle in the middle of her blue Robin-style mask. All in all, she was an absolute vision. For a second Chameleona almost felt a twinge of jealousy as she observed the heroine, until she realized that she could look just like her if she wanted to. She always did have a knack for making herself feel better about herself.
Wanting to get a better understanding of the person she would have to get close to, Chameleona reached back into her backpack and fished out a high powered microphone… “all the better to eavesdrop on you, my dear.” Plugging the ear buds into her ears, she pointed the microphone toward the strolling heroines and zoomed in on their conversation…
“… ha ha hah…” American Glory was laughing at something Astro-Girl had said. “Cindy, you are such a nut. I don’t know how you get away with some of these things.”
“Talent,” replied Astro-Girl, “Pure talent.”
The two girls laughed together.
“But I’ll tell you one thing,” American Glory continued with her side of the conversation, “I am soooo getting tired of the rest of the team treating me like I’m some kind of child. I’m a super hero, just like them. Heck, I’m as tough and strong and at least half of them, and I’m faster than most of them. I can handle the big jobs, if they’d only just give me a chance to prove it, instead of leaving me behind to ‘study’. What am I? A member of The Justice Squad, or enrolled in prep school!?”
“Please Michelle,” Astro-Girl joined in on the rant, “don’t even get me started. You think you have it tough? Try being Miss Galacta-bitch’s ‘trusty sidekick’ for a while. I’ve been part of this team longer than you have, and I’m still being put on bystander duty. ‘Go wait in the Galacta-Mobile, Astro-Girl’… ‘Go stand watch at the front door, Astro-Girl’… ‘No, sorry Astro-Girl, you can’t come this time, it’s too dangerous. Maybe next time’… gawd!! Sometimes I just want to put my boot in her crotch. Ahhhh!!”
American Glory giggled girlishly at her friend’s humorous display of frustration. “I know. One of these days, we’ll show all of them. Either that, or we’ll just quit this two-bit operation and start our own super team.”
“Damn right!” Astro-Girl responded, dog piling on her friend’s idea, “That’d show those high and mighty tight asses!”
Again the girls shared a much needed laugh. At that, they came to a fork in the walking path.
“Well,” Astro-Girl said, “I think I’m going to head to the gym and work off some of this aggravation. Hell, there’s nothing else to do around here anyway while we wait for the ‘grownups’ to get back from their latest epic adventure that we’re too young and inexperienced for. Wanna come?”
“No, you go ahead,” American Glory declined, “I think I’m just going to go to my spot in the garden, relax, and catch up on my reading, seeing as how it’s such a beautiful day and all.”
“Alrighty. I’ll catch up with you later, girlfriend,” said Astro-Girl as she started off down the left fork of the path.
“You know it,” replied American Glory as she turned toward the right fork in the path. The two beauties parted and went their separate ways.
“Score!” Chameleona thought to herself as she watched American Glory and Astro-Girl separate. She couldn’t have asked for a more valuable conversation, or for more of a perfect opportunity. In less than 2 minutes of snooping, she had found out all she needed to know. First, she learned that all of the other Justice Squad members, at least the ones that might pose a threat, were out of sight, which would give her plenty of time to take care of business. And thanks to the gist of the conversation, Chameleona had come up with the perfect set up for her approach on American Glory, and she wouldn’t even have to try to be all stealthy or forceful. And if she acted quickly, she could get this over with and be gone before dinner time. It was just too perfect.
The purple seductress was ready to put her quickly devised scheme into action. But first, she needed to provide a little change of scenery. Double checking to make sure the coast was clear, Chameleona removed her backpack, then slipped out of her jumpsuit. Though she could change the appearance of her body and even mimic the appearance of clothing, she could not make her own outfit change shape, so in order to assume someone else’s fully-dressed form, she had strip herself down to her birthday suit first. It was an inconvenience to be sure, and a bit embarrassing at times, but a necessity nonetheless. Now naked, she situated herself comfortably in a seated position, closed her eyes, and concentrated. In a couple seconds, her body was enveloped in a subtle light blue glow, and as it faded, instead of Chameleona in all her lavender loveliness, there sat the spunky and delightfully curvaceous Astro-Girl, or at least a perfect copy of her. Her transformation complete, the shape-shifter opened her eyes and looked down to inspect her handy work. Everything was as it should be, from Astro-Girl’s silver costume (resembling a sexy college cheerleader uniform, complete with tight, body hugging top and frilly, sassy little pleated skirt), to her black gauntleted gloves and black boots, both with gold trim, right down to her perky bosoms and taut little ass. Even the black silhouetted emblem of a ringed planet was emblazoned perfectly across her chest. Reaching up to adjust her chestnut brown ponytail, she cleared her throat and tried out her new voice. “Hi Michelle, it’s me, Cindy. Hi Michelle. Hey there, girlfriend.” She repeated it a couple more times until she felt that she had Astro-Girl’s pitch and rhythm down just right. Her new identity in place and perfect, Chameleona reached into her backpack and pulled out a pair of the most trusted tools of the trade… a small, folded white cloth, and a brown bottle labeled ominously with the dreaded “C” word. Chloroform. Thus armed and ready for work, the disguised villainess steadied her mind, took a deep breath, then sprung like a cat from her hiding place and went off in pursuit of her prey.
It wasn’t long before she found her. As Chameleona turned a corner in the garden, there sat American Glory. She had taken up residence on a charming little bench boxed in oh-so discretely behind a row of high, thick shrubbery. “Damn, she’s making this waaaay too easy,” she thought to herself, “It’s almost as if she’s begging to get kidnapped. Very well, allow me to oblige her,” the undercover villain snickered to herself and leapt into action.
Stepping around the corner, she approached American Glory warmly as if they were old friends, keeping the bottle and cloth hidden behind her back. “Hey Michelle. How’s the book coming?”
American Glory was noticeably surprised to see her, but not the least bit displeased. “Cindy? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to the gym?”
“I was, um, I mean I did,” Chameleona fabricated her story, “I was in the locker room getting ready to change clothes, when I noticed Power Queen’s locker was slightly open. Well, I got nosey, and I took a peak inside.”
“Oookay,” responded American Glory with obvious trepidation, “You know you could get into a lot of trouble for that.”
“Yeah I know,” Chameleona said, “but, you know, I just admire her so much, and I couldn’t help myself.”
“Admire her?” American Glory seemed surprised at this revelation, “I thought you couldn’t stand Power Queen? You said you thought she was conceited and bossy?”
Chameleona quickly covered her tracks. “Yeah, I did. And she is. But she still could be really cool, you know, if she weren’t such a bitch all the time.”
“Whatever,” American Glory replied and turned back to reading her book.
Not wanting to lose her target’s interest, Chameleona continued, “But you’ll never guess what I found in there.”
“I don’t think I want to know,” American Glory seemed unsure of her friend.
Dramatically, Chameleona pulled her hand from behind her back, “Dum dum duuuuuh.” She held the bottle out for the heroine to see. American Glory at first glanced politely from her book, and as soon as it registered with her what her friend was showing her, she immediately became more interested.
“Is… is that what I think it is?” the redhead quizzically asked, as her voice dropped in volume and a sense of awe and wonder fell over her.
“Yep. This is it. The big bad. Chloroform,” Chameleona, sensing her companion’s reaction, a reaction that seemed all at once fearful and full of wonder, took the queue and played into it.
The two sat and stared at the smoky brown bottle for several minutes, not really saying anything, just taking in the moment. Finally, American Glory broke the silence. Her voice was hushed, almost reverent. “So… that’s what it looks like. I’ve never seen any chloroform before, you know, up close. But I’ve heard so many stories. The other heroines, they always talk about it… I overhear them sometimes… about how the villains and bad guys are always pulling it out and using it on them. About how it seems to wipe them out. And of course, whenever they realize I’m there, they quickly shut up and change the subject. Like they’re afraid to let me find out about it.”
“I know, right,” Chameleona egged her on, “I always thought that ‘chloroform’ was some great, evil secret weapon, something that’d make me pee my pants if I ever saw it. But then I found this, and I was like ‘Really? This is it? This is what they’re all afraid of?’”
“And you said it was in Power Queen’s locker? Why on earth would she have something like this in her locker?” American Glory inquired, her eyes never leaving the smooth contoured surface of the bottle. It was almost as if she was mesmerized by it.
“I don’t know,” the villainess replied, enjoying the charade, “maybe she found the bottle lying around somewhere and tried to hide it. Hide it from us.”
“But why?” the shapely redhead took the bait.
“Why?” You know why,” Chameleona reeled her in, “Because we aren’t strong enough. We aren’t old enough or experienced enough. We’re too little and weak. They don’t think we’re big enough to handle it.”
American Glory smarted at the proposed assumption, and Chameleona could see the anger flicker behind her target’s eyes. She knew she had her right where she wanted her. Her ruse was working like a charm.
“You know what I think?” she continued, “I think they’re afraid. Afraid to admit that we’re just as strong as them. Afraid to give us the chance to prove that we are. That’s why they always leave us behind like this. That’s why she hid it.”
“You’re right.” American Glory gritted her teeth at the injustice of it all. “Damn them. How dare they… they…” Hook. Line. Sinker.
“You know what?” Chameleona moved in to close the deal, “I think we should prove them wrong. I think we should try some of this stuff and prove we’re big enough to handle it. That’ll show those high-handed bitches.”
Trepidation suddenly began to replace American Glory’s demeanor, and she seemed to shy away from the bottle at the suggestion. “I don’t know, Cindy… maybe we shouldn’t mess with that stuff. What if it… hurts us… or something?”
“Oh come one, don’t be such a baby,” Chameleona chided. “How bad can it be? The other heroines talk like they’ve had this stuff used on them several times, and they’re still alive and kicking. Unless you’re trying to say that you’re not as strong as they are…”
That did the trick. That little verbal slap seemed to renew American Glory’s resolve. “No, no… I’m not saying that. I am as strong as them. I know I’m strong enough.”
“Cool, then let’s do this.” Chameleona waved the bottle temptingly in front of her. “Let’s put this stuff to the test.” American Glory looked as if she remained hesitant. The villainess continued to prod. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, we’re all alone here, no one will know.”
“Well….” the heroine continued in her sheepishness.
“OK, look, I’ll go first and prove it’s nothing to be afraid of.”
With that, Chameleona had set her trap. All she had to do now was convince American Glory that the chloroform was no big deal, and boom, she’d have her.
“How… how do we… you know… do it?” The redhead seemed emboldened again, and her curiosity was overwhelming her cautiousness.
“Well, if I understand it right, all we need is one of these.” Chameleona pulled out the white cloth. “We just pour some of the chloroform onto the cloth, hold it up to our nose and mouth, then just breath it in. Kinda like huffing paint or something.”
“That’s all?” American Glory’s excitement was getting harder to contain. “That sounds easy enough.”
“Sure it is. Watch.” The shape-shifter opened the bottle, set the cap aside, cupped the cloth in her free hand, then turned the bottle into the cloth. American Glory was almost literally on the edge of her seat as she watched. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t watching carefully enough. If she had been, she might have noticed Chameleona use a little slight of hand and secretly move her thumb into position over the mouth of the bottle, stopping it up and preventing the noxious liquid from soaking the rag. The villain pretended to let the bottle soak the cloth for several seconds, then turned it upright again, moving her thumb back away from the opening. All of the trickery went unnoticed by the heroine.
Chameleona recapped the bottle, set it aside, then continued with her act. “OK, here goes…” Slowly, she raised the cloth to her own face, locking eyes with American Glory as she did. Making sure to demonstrate the proper technique to the heroine, she placed the cloth firmly over the lower half of her face, completely covering her nose and mouth. Then she started to breathe. She made sure to take good, long, deep breaths, letting American Glory hear her inhaling. Not only did she want to convince the redhead that she wasn’t holding her breath, but she also wanted to make sure the heroine knew exactly how she was supposed to do it when her turn came.
- - -
Unbeknownst to the sly shape-shifter or her unassuming victim, they were in fact not alone in the Enclave gardens that afternoon. From behind the hedgerow of shrubbery a short, squat, but broad and stout shadow lurked and watched. It was Wormsley, oft-abused toady to the great and powerful Master Disaster himself. Wormsley had grown tired of being a lower level acolyte at the Cathedral of Pain. He wanted to move up in the organization. And when he had received the call from the Master to issue the contract on American Glory, he decided it was an opportunity too good to pass up. He figured that if he succeeded in capturing the young heroine and delivered her to the Master personally, then the Master would have to recognize his potential and give him his long overdue promotion to full-fledged henchman status. Or heck, if nothing else, with a cool hundred million in his pockets, maybe he would just quit the Cathedral and go into business for himself. Either way, it had to be better than his current lot in life.
As he watched from the shadows, he could not believe his luck. He had found American Glory out in the open, ripe for the picking, and on a day when it seemed like every other superhero worth their salt was off doing something else. There was one complication, though. She was not alone. Before he could act, another young heroine had walked up and joined her. He wasn’t exactly sure who she was, but he thought her silver, space-agey costume looked somewhat familiar. In any case, he was sure she wasn’t a heavy hitter. But still, she presented a problem. He was confident that he could handle American Glory by herself if he could only get the drop on her, but two heroines, even young ones, might be too much for him.
But then, as he watched, his mouth began to drop. Could it be? Yes, the new heroine had what looked like a bottle of chloroform and a cloth. Not only that, but it looked like the silly little twit was actually going to use it on herself. What a truly lucky and fortunate day. He wouldn’t have to figure out how to deal with her at all; she was going to take herself out of the equation for him. The henchman wannabe hunched down in his spot and continued to observe the strange but fortuitous goings-on with baited breath.
- - -
All's Fair in Love, Villainy, and Chloroform
All's Fair in Love, Villainy, and Chloroform, Part 2
Completely oblivious to her unseen audience, Chameleona continued her performance. As she inhaled, she started to flutter her eyes, letting them roll slightly. She giggled a little under the cloth, letting the heroine know that she wasn’t getting hurt, and actually was kind of enjoying the experience. Deeper and deeper she breathed, and suddenly she felt her head begin to swim a little. As the stars started to appear around the corners of her eyes, the villain wasn’t sure what was happening. Maybe a small amount of chloroform had leaked past her thumb onto the fabric, maybe all that forced heavy breathing was making her a little high from the excessive oxygen intake, or maybe she was just feeling a euphoria over the prospects of her plan working so wonderfully. In any case, she adjusted the cloth slightly, cut back on her breathing a bit, and soon the stars faded and she felt in control. “Gotta be careful,” she thought to herself, “can’t let myself play this part too well.”
After a few minutes, Chameleona slumped back into the bench, pretended to become very weak and drowsy, and giggled some more. Finally, she let her hand drop limply from her face, and sat there smiling a drunken smile. American Glory showed concern for her friend, and curiosity for the experience.
“Cindy? Cindy? Are you OK?”
“Mmmmmm… yeahhhhh… I feel… fiiiiine…” Chameleona purred in response. “Woooo… what a trip. That stuff… gives you one helluva buzz. Feel all… tingly… hee hee hee…”
The villainess let herself play it out for a couple more minutes, then shook her head and pulled herself upright. Taking a deep breath, she showed American Glory that everything was alright, and that she in fact felt pretty damn good.
“Wow, that stuff was great. Can’t believe they make such a big deal of it.”
“So you feel fine?” American Glory inquired.
“I feel better than fine, sweetie,” assured the villain, “never better.”
“That’s weird. I wonder why the other heroines are always so down of this stuff then, and why was Power Queen hiding it from us?” the patriotic princess pondered.
“Probably because they want to keep it all to themselves,” said Chameleona. “Selfish bitches won’t let us have any fun. OK Michelle, it’s your turn now.”
“I don’t know…” American Glory turned squeamish again. She was fine with the idea as long as it was her friend trying it out, but now that she had to do it, she started to back peddle.
“Oh no you don’t. We agreed we’d both try it.” Chameleona wasn’t about to let the heroine off the hook. “Quit being chicken shit.”
Wincing from her friend’s scolding, American Glory finally conceded. “OK, hand it over.”
“Now we’re talking,” Chameleona strained to contain her excitement. “Hang on a sec.” She picked up the bottle, uncapped it again, and again turned it into the cloth, only this time there was no trickery, no slight of hand. This time she poured a large and powerful dosage into the rag. She could feel the coolness of the liquid coming in contact with her hand as it soaked completely through the fabric. “This ought to knock her on her pretty little ass for sure,” she mused to herself as she repressed a wicked little grin.
Having thoroughly soaked the cloth, she offered it to the trusting heroine. “Here you go, Michelle. Now do it just like I did.”
- - -
Wormsley was completely flabbergasted. He didn’t know what to think. So far his day was going up and down like a roller coaster. Just when he thought American Glory’s little super friend was going to knock herself out, clearing the path for him to make his move on the redheaded patriot, she stopped just before finishing the job. “Damn super bitches can’t be trusted to do anything right,” he grumbled to himself. His only hope now was to rush in while the friend was still weak and take out American Glory before the other one could get up and offer him much of a fight. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best plan he could come up with.
Then, before he could rush out and take them on, he stopped frozen in his tracks. He couldn’t believe what his own eyes were seeing. Now American Glory was going to take the cloth and use the chloroform on herself, too. What the heck was going on? He figured these two super twits must be playing some kind of game with each other, trading chloroform and seeing how much they could take. Well, that was just fine with him. If they wanted to goof around and get themselves all dazed and giddy, he sure wasn’t going to stop them. A couple of barely conscious super heroines would be easy to bring down, even for a low level grunt like him. He parted the bushes a little more with his trembling, anxious hands to provide a clearer view of the action and watched further, oblivious to the drool forming at the corners of his mouth.
- - -
American Glory took the saturated rag from her “friend”. She studied it for a moment, felt the weight in her hand, squeezed it slightly to feel the squishiness. Still unsure, she raised it slightly to within a few inches of her nose and took a precursory sniff. The faint whiff of fumes made her curl her nose in disgust.
“Ughhhh…” she complained, “This stuff smells awful.”
“Just at first,” Chameleona eagerly tried to encourage her. “Once you get past that first jolt, it gets smoother and easier to take. Kinda like drinking beer for the first time.”
The nervous heroine gulped a little in shame at her companion’s reference to beer drinking. She had always been a bit envious of Astro-Girl. Her friend was always so daring and adventurous in her personal life, always willing to try new things even if she knew she could get into trouble. Always so devil-may-care. But not American Glory. She was the consummate “good girl.” Always did what she was supposed to, never bucked the system. She knew that if Astro-Girl had known that she had never tried beer, or any alcoholic beverage for that matter, she’d never hear the end of it. Instead she just played it off like she agreed and understood.
“Yeah, OK,” she mumbled back unconvincingly.
Getting impatient, the villainess prodded further, “Go on, give it a go. Don’t puss out on me now. Pull up your big girl panties and suck it up.”
Finally giving in to peer pressure, American Glory conceded. “OK, here goes.” Still nervous, but not wanting to disappoint her friend, she sat up straight, held her breath and slowly raised the cloth and pressed it to her face, covering her nose and mouth, just like Astro-Girl had done. She could feel the cold dampness on her skin, and felt the first tendrils of fumes begin to creep up her nose. Bracing herself, she went for it and took her first deep breath. POW! That first breath was like getting hit by a truck. Immediately she could feel her head tingle and a rush of dizziness hit her. It was kind of like getting a sudden head rush when you stand up too quickly, but times a hundred. The impact of the fumes was so unexpected, so overwhelming, that she lost her balance and rocked back into the bench. Her hand instinctively fell away from her face.
“Wh-whoa...” she moaned as she closed her eyes and tried to force the world to stop spinning. “That was… uhhhh… that… whooaaa…”
As American Glory sat back moaning and sucking in fresh air, Chameleona thought to herself, “Oh no, this just won’t do. We’re not through yet, little girl.” She slid in a little closer to the heroine and her put hand behind her shoulders, gently pushing her back up into an upright seated position. Her other hand nudged at the cloth still in American Glory’s hand. “Come on, Michelle, that was pathetic. You didn’t give it near a good enough try. I took a lot more than that. And you know Power Queen and Galactress probably wouldn’t even feel anything from a little girly-sized whiff like that one. You can’t quit now. You said you’d try it with me. Don’t let me down.”
Still spinning from her first taste of chloroform, the redhead at first had a hard time comprehending what Astro-Girl was saying to her. All she could comprehend was being push back up and being pressed into doing it again. Something didn’t feel quite right. Why was her friend trying to force her to do something she obviously didn’t want to do? It wasn’t like Cindy to be this way, she was usually so thoughtful and understanding. But she did have that reckless side to her, so maybe she was just too caught up in the moment. As her head began to clear, she decided to humor Astro-Girl a little longer, just to make her feel better. This chloroform stuff was stronger than she had anticipated, but she felt sure she could handle one or two more breaths of it, and then she’d quit.
“Hhhhhuhhh… OK. Just one more time,” she agreed.
“That’s my girl,” Chameleona happily replied.
American Glory straightened up again, her friend tenderly and reassuringly rubbing her back. “Just one more time,” she thought to herself. Besides, she wasn’t truly prepared the first time, but now she knew what to expect, this time it would be better, easier. Steeling herself, she raised the cloth once again, pressed it to her face, and took another breath. Again came the rush and the tingling. Her pale blue eyes looked around the garden as she inhaled, and she could see the corners of her vision growing darker and darker. She started to feel warm and numb all at the same time as the world started to spin once more.
“Yeah, that’s it girl. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.” The false Astro-Girl cheered the heroine on, like a frat boy chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug” while one of his brothers funneled a beer. American Glory could tell this was somehow very important to her good friend, though she had no idea why. Nevertheless, she was not one to let her friends down, so she kept going.
Again she inhaled the fumes. Her nose was on fire from the chemical, and her head spun faster and faster. The dizziness was overpowering. She could feel herself begin to sway in her seat. She could no longer feel her toes, and as she tried to steady herself, her thighs, usually so strong and firm, felt like jelly. Her eyes rolled over toward Astro-Girl, and even though she could see her smiling face, she could not make out was she was saying, and she realized it was because of the ringing in her ears. This was enough, she had to stop. She couldn’t take it any longer.
American Glory’s hand grew limp, and she allowed it to drop away from her face. She tried to speak, but her words were slurred and hard to produce. “n-nuffff… no mmmmorhhhh… had eh-ehnuffff…”
Chameleona acted quickly. Not wanting to lose the momentum, she saddled up right next to American Glory and slipped her arm flirtatiously around the heroine’s trim waist. Pulling the groggy redhead right up close against her, she used her free hand to take hold of American Glory’s falling hand from underneath. Holding her victim tight, she guided the heroine’s hand back up to her face again.
“Oh no you don’t, American Glory, we’re not through yet,” she whispered into the redhead’s ear. “We’re not through by a long shot. You’re a big girl, you can take a lot more than that.”
“Huhhh?... wha-what are you mmhmmmm…” American Glory tried weakly to protest at her friend’s pushiness, but her words were cut off as Chameleona used her hand to press the cloth back into place. The heroine was beginning to get upset with her so-called friend, and she looked sternly, if not dazedly, back at her. Still, she could not help but to breath as her fellow heroine forced her to hold the cloth to her face. More and more of her resolve was being melted away by the insidious drug. The spinning was out of control now, her whole body had gone numb. She could feel herself growing weaker and weaker.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl. Suck it all in. There you go.” Chameleona continued to purr into the redhead’s ear.
“mmm… mmffff… hmmmMmmmmfff…” American Glory moaned in pointless protest.
“What’s that?” the villainess asked mockingly in response to the heroine’s moans, “What’s that you say? I can’t quite make that out. Did you say you want some more? Heh heh, OK sweetie. You can have some more. You can have aaaaall you want,” she taunted, and pressed American Glory’s hand even tighter against her nose and mouth.
Something was definitely wrong. Even in her barely conscious, addled state of mind American Glory could tell that. Weakly, she tried to pull her hand away from her face. When it became clear that her friend wasn’t going to let her, she tried with her free hand to pull Astro-Girl’s arm way. This effort also proved too weak to be effective. Normally, under any other circumstances, she could have overpowered her compatriot easily. But not this time. The chloroform had done its job. She was as weak and helpless as a newborn kitten in Chameleona’s eager, persuasive, and unyielding arms.
Finally, in a last ditch effort to escape the fumes, American Glory decided that since she could not force Astro-Girl to let go, she would stop participating in this little game and stop breathing. She held her breath, hoping she could wait long enough for the spinning to stop, and then regain enough composure to push her friend away. But Chameleona was no fool. With their bodies pressed so close together, the villainess could feel the cease in rising and falling of American Glory’s chest, she could hear the lack of breathy gulps under the cloth. She was on to the redhead.
“Oh no you don’t,” she chided, “No fair holding your breath.” The heroine just sat there, looking stubbornly back at her. “OK, if that’s how you want to play it, then let’s just change the rules up a little.”
The dazed and sleepy heroine tried to remain as stalwart and resolute as she could, but Chameleona wasn’t into playing fair. Without another word, she smiled wickedly as she looked deep into American Glory’s blue eyes, then quickly slid her arm down, moving her hand from around the redhead’s waist and slipped it expertly down the front of the heroine’s costume panties. Deftly she forced her fingers between the young girl’s thighs and found her crotch. Immediately she targeted the clit and began to pinch and rub and manipulate it with great proficiency.
“hhmmmMmmmmm!....” American Glory was shocked at the sudden invasion of her nether regions and could not repress her surprised moan. Her eyes opened wide and panicky at the violation. “MmmmMmmmHmmmmMmmhhhh!...”
This is exactly what Chameleona wanted. Normally, the seductive villainess was an expert at manipulating a woman’s erogenous zones, and never failed to bring any female to a screaming orgasm, no matter how stubborn or uptight she was. But this time she didn’t need to force a climax, this time all she needed was the breathy moans, and she was getting those in spades. She delighted at the feeling of American Glory’s moistening silkiness between her fingers as her hips squirmed and bucked. It was hard to tell whether the heroine was wriggling and fidgeting in protest or pleasure. It didn’t matter, so long as she kept moaning, so long as she kept breathing.
And breathe she did. The heroine’s small measure of remaining resolve broke the instant she felt those magic fingers. She could not control herself. Helplessly she continued to suck in the conquering fumes. It was over. Her vision was blurred, her ears ringing deafeningly, her body was completely numb except for the tingling, her muscles basically useless. She could comprehend nothing, other than sweet sensations being forced upon her clit and the ever enclosing darkness. Soon her body stopped its pitiful gyrations. Her arms went limp, her body relaxed, and she became nothing more than a warm and inviting ragdoll in Chameleona’s arms.
The villainess rolled the redhead’s head over so that she could look into her eyes. The heroine’s eyelids grew so heavy that she could barely keep them open. Chameleona stared intently into those big baby blues for few more seconds, then whispered with a sinister sweetness, “Nitey-nite, princess.”
The last thing American Glory saw as a brief flicker of an inhuman green glow flash across Astro-Girl’s eyes. With the fleeting realization that her friend was not her friend at all, the heroine gave up the fight. With a final breathy moan, her beautiful eyes rolled back in her head, her lids fluttered shut, and she was gone. The mighty heroine was defeated.
“‘Bout time,” the shape-shifter snorted as she watched American Glory give in to final defeat. She held the cloth in place for a few more seconds, making sure that her victim was completely under, then removed her hand and let the cloth fall. Slipping her other hand from between the sleeping redhead’s legs, she took her arm from around her waist and laid the heroine gently back against bench, allowing her head to loll limply against her shoulder. The villainess daintily licked her fingers and enjoyed the taste of triumph. “Mmm mmm mmm, sweeter than honey.”
Now she checked the slumbering girl to make sure all the signs of unconsciousness were there. She picked up her arm by the wrist and let it drop loosely to her hips. Once, twice, and third time. No resistance, totally limp. Check. Then she gently pushed open the redhead’s eyelids to look at her eyes. First one, then the other. Rolled back and no sign of cognizance. Check. Satisfied, she took a deep sigh of relief and appreciated her accomplishment.
“What a chump,” she said to her oblivious companion. “I can’t believe you fell for that so easily. You super types are always soooo trusting. Sure makes my job a whole helluva lot easier. Still, you proved to be more of a pushover than most. Certainly not a hero worthy of a hundred million dollar price tag.” Chameleona let her eyes venture down the form and figure of the snoozing girl beside her. She let her fingers trail gently and teasingly down American Glory’s body, from her slender neck, down and around her firm, generous breasts as they rose and fell slightly while the heroine breathed softly in her sleep, then down her toned midriff, across her hips, and up and down her inner thighs. “Then again,” she mused to herself, obviously getting turned on, “if I were somebody like Master Disaster, I’d pay a pretty penny to get a piece of you and have this body all to myself, too. Not too shabby at all. Mmmmm.”
- - -
This was it. His big chance. Wormsley watched as American Glory began to chloroform herself. He became excited at seeing her sway dizzily under the cloth. He then became even more excited when the other heroine coaxed her into doing it some more when it looked like she was going to quit. And when the tight little brunette pulled her in close and forced her to continue to suck in the stuff, he could hardly contain the bulge growing uncomfortably in his pants. This was too much to bare, but bare it he did. Finally, his heart leapt with glee as he saw the redhead pass out completely and get laid out unconscious. Now was the time. Whoever this other heroine was, she had done his job for him. All he had to do now was take her out of the picture, and American Glory was all his. He could just scoop her up and present her to the Master all tied up in a pretty bow.
In his grubby hands Wormsley eagerly fidgeted with the chloro-mask that he had absconded with back at the Cathedral. It was one of the handiest creations from Disaster Laboratories. A completely self contained rubber anesthesia mask with a built-in aerosol mister. Affixed to the front of the mask was a glass vial filled with chloroform. But not just any chloroform. This was a special, extra strong concoction that the boys at the lab had whipped up. It worked just like regular chloroform, only it didn’t dissipate and evaporate quite as fast and had ten times the kick. He knew American Glory was strong… certainly no Captain Mighty or Power Queen by any stretch of the imagination, but super strong nonetheless, and so he figured he’d need something a bit more potent than just your regular, run-of-the-mill chloroform or ether to take her down. But now that she was out, he decided he would use it on her friend instead. If it was good enough for one, it should be more than good enough for the other.
He couldn’t wait any longer. The young brunette seemed so preoccupied with her sleeping partner that he was sure she wouldn’t see him coming. It was time to pounce.
- - -
Chameleona was thoroughly enjoying her prize, but she knew she couldn’t stay there all day. She had no idea when the rest of the Justice Squad would return, and if nothing else, the real Astro-Girl was still on the grounds somewhere. She could come looking for her friend any minute. It was time to pack her things and get out while the getting was good.
Still, she couldn’t help but relish the moment. She sat back on the bench, crossed her legs, and rested her arms on the back of the seat. Closing her eyes, she let the sun’s warming rays soak into her skin, breathing in the moment, and reflected on how good life was going to be once she was a millionaire. All was right with the world. It was as if time had stopped to allow her to savor her well deserved victory.
Suddenly, her idyllic moment in time was shattered. Out of nowhere, a pair of strong thick arms grabbed her and jolted her out of her daydreams. One arm wrapped around her shoulders and over her chest and pinned her hard against the back of the bench. The other sweaty hand moved in front of her face and clamped a cupped rubber mask over her mouth and nose.
“What the fu… mmmmblmmm!...” the villainess tried to yell before the mask cut her off and muffled her words. Before she could react physically, a gruff and weasely voice growled in her ear from behind…
“Say good night, babe.”
The stubby thumb on the hand in front of her face then maneuvered and pressed a button on the front of the mask, and instantly a gassy mist sprayed from the inside of the rubber cup. Chameleona gasped and involuntarily gulped as the super chloroform vaporized and was sucked down into her lungs.
“Mmmmmffff mmmm… nooo-mmmmmhmmmmblmmm…”
She tried desperately to free herself, pulling at the hand on her face and clawing at the hairy, warty arm around her chest. Her legs kicked wildly in front of her, but it was all to no avail. The man who held her was too strong, and more importantly, the chloro-mist filling her lungs was way too strong. This drug was specially formulated to knock out extra tough metahumans, and aside from her mutant shape-shifting abilities, Chameleona possessed no additional powers, no super strength or heightened resilience. In short, she had no chance against these fumes. She was toast.
The shape-shifter struggled and kicked for another minute or two. Wormsley enjoyed the feeling of her warm wiggling body in his arms. He giggled depravedly as he squeezed her, and Chameleona seemed to recognize the tone and pitch of his voice. Her last thought was that she had heard that horrid, sniveling little laugh somewhere before.
Before she could put two and two together, it was over. The scientifically engineered drug had performed its duties all too well. The shapely vixen ceased her kicking and struggling. As her body went limp, her eyes grew heavy and, with a final soft moan, they fluttered and fell shut. She had a one-way ticket to Slumberville, and she had finally reached her destination.
Wormsley was giddy with success. He released the flaccid, vanquished brunette and hopped and danced around, celebrating his victory.
“Yes! I win! Now the Master will see. Now he will see Wormsley in all his glory. Victory is mine. Mine, mine MINE!”
As he danced, he worked his way around to the front of the bench. There he stopped and looked down upon not one, but two costume-clad beauties, both sleeping soundly and at his mercy.
“Oh, what joy. Two lovely lassies for the taking.” He looked over at the would-be Astro-Girl. “I don’t know who you are, little girl, but you must be somebody. And you’re certainly pretty enough. I’ll take you to the Master as a bonus. Two for the price of one. Certainly then he will see my quality and worth, and reward me richly. Oh, happy day!”
The brutish little pug clapped to himself like a child as he leered at his dozing conquests. Then something strange happened. The young brunette started to glow, a faint blue glow, and as she did, she started to change. Wormsley was frightened at first, not understanding what was happening, but as he watched, he saw her body contort, grow longer, taller, fuller, more curvaceous. Her skin changed color, shifting from a pale flesh tone to a lustrous shade of purple. Her hair sparkled as the mousy brown hue turned into a tussle of bright green silk. And her silvery outfit faded away and was replaced by… nothing. Before he knew it, Wormsley found himself staring down at the naked and irresistible body of none other than the criminal shape-shifter, Chameleona. It took him a good solid minute to realize what was going on, to piece together the puzzle of the situation. Had he actually outsmarted somebody else who was out to steal his glory? Yes, it would appear that he had. But more impressive than this revelation was the discovery of who that somebody else was.
His mouth drooped with amazement, and the drool dribbled from his bottom lip like a leaky faucet. His hands went limp and he dropped the chloro-mask to the ground. Long had Wormsley worshipped Chameleona from afar. OK, maybe worship wasn’t quite the right word; the only being an acolyte of the Cathedral of Pain was allowed to worship was the Master himself. But he had lusted and longed for her from afar, that was to be sure. To him she had always seemed a fresh, exquisite flower, perfect and unblemished, and eternally unattainable. So many times he had seen her at the various conferences and soirees that the Master had held at his estate, always flirting and flitting from one powerful super villain or crime boss to another, but never did she have time for Wormsley. The few occasions on which he had summoned up the courage to approach her at one of these events, just to say hello or to get a mere whiff of her perfume, were met with the foulest contempt and rejection.
But now here she was, in all her glory, laid out before him. His eyes hungrily scoured her figure, the suppleness of her neck, the tautness of her arms, the curves of her breasts, the swirl of her belly button, the delicate curling of the stripe of baby-fine green pubic hair neatly trimmed above her holiest of holies. His hands shaking, he stepped forward and reached out to her. His fingers grazed her soft cheek, then trembled onto her shoulder. They tripped down her chest, and clumsily groped and stroked one of her breasts. He cupped his hand underneath her bosom, then squeezed it rudely, letting his thumb play across the bluish-violet skin of her nipple. A trail of drool drizzled from his lower lip and trickled down along her satiny inner thigh as he grinned and took pleasure in his new found toy.
Suddenly, he had a revelation. “Wait a minute. I… don’t have to give you over to the Master. Heh heh… he only wants the Glory girl. He said nothing about you, my sweet. Wormsley can have it all. I can deliver her to the Master, I can receive the reward, and probably a promotion. And… and… I can have you… all to myself. Heheheheheh…”
Wormsley delighted in his decision. Barely able to contain his joy, he quickly went to work securing his goods. Picking up his chloro-mask, he moved over to American Glory. Fixing a pair of elastic straps to the mask, he slid it over her head, positioning it over her face. The movement seemed to jog the heroine a bit, and as he adjusted the mask’s position, the heroine moaned very slightly, and he saw her eyes start to flutter open. He pressed the button on the mask, and again the built-in aerosol mechanism vaporized the super-chloroform and misted it into the redhead’s nose and mouth. He held her face steady and watched intently as the faint glimpse of life that had crept into her eyes quickly faded, and with a breathy sigh she was once again lulled into a chemical induced slumber. Satisfied that she was fully out, Wormsley then took a roll of industrial strength binding tape from his belt and trussed the heroine up, taping her wrists, then her ankles, then her legs, and then finally he taped her arms to her sides. With her body bound and the mask firmly fixed to her face, he had the heroine secured, in perfect, unspoiled condition, and ready for delivery.
Next he turned to the object of his lecherous affections. He taped and bound Chameleona’s body up in the same manner as American Glory. He then took the discarded cloth from the seat of the bench, as well as the bottle the shape-shifter had brought for the job. Opening the bottle, he poured virtually all of the remaining contents of the container into the rag, soaking it until it literally dripped with chloroform. He pressed the cloth to the villainess’ face, then secured it in place with more of the binding tape. The sleeping beauty never stirred, as she was still under the full affect of the super-chloroform dosage she received before. Now, she had her own cloth taped to her face, soaked with her own chloroform, which was more than potent enough to keep a regular-strength female like herself out for hours. Had she been awake, the irony would not have been lost on her.
His packages secure, the squat little toady hoisted the unconscious women up, slinging each over one of his broad shoulders. Looking around one last time to make sure no one was around to see him, he trotted off toward the back of the Enclave property, to where his van was waiting on the other side of the fence.
“Off we go, my lovelies. I apologize for the bumpy ride. Well, I don’t apologize to you, my sweet,” he snickered as he turned and kissed Chameleona’s naked lavender hip. “For you, I can promise a very bumpy ride. Heheheh… You laughed at Wormsley before. Wormsley wasn’t good enough for you, was he? No, he wasn’t. Well, let’s see you reject old Wormsley this time. You will be screaming Wormsley’s name before I’m through with you. I promise, you will scream my name. Heheheheheh! Who’s laughing now? Hmmmm? Who’s… laughing… now? Hehehahahoohaha!”
Chameleona could not answer as her sleeping face bounced on her new master’s back. The happy little toady scampered and skipped merrily across the yard to the wall with both his prize and his powerless princess, where his coach, his prosperity, and his every fantasy awaited him.
THE END
After a few minutes, Chameleona slumped back into the bench, pretended to become very weak and drowsy, and giggled some more. Finally, she let her hand drop limply from her face, and sat there smiling a drunken smile. American Glory showed concern for her friend, and curiosity for the experience.
“Cindy? Cindy? Are you OK?”
“Mmmmmm… yeahhhhh… I feel… fiiiiine…” Chameleona purred in response. “Woooo… what a trip. That stuff… gives you one helluva buzz. Feel all… tingly… hee hee hee…”
The villainess let herself play it out for a couple more minutes, then shook her head and pulled herself upright. Taking a deep breath, she showed American Glory that everything was alright, and that she in fact felt pretty damn good.
“Wow, that stuff was great. Can’t believe they make such a big deal of it.”
“So you feel fine?” American Glory inquired.
“I feel better than fine, sweetie,” assured the villain, “never better.”
“That’s weird. I wonder why the other heroines are always so down of this stuff then, and why was Power Queen hiding it from us?” the patriotic princess pondered.
“Probably because they want to keep it all to themselves,” said Chameleona. “Selfish bitches won’t let us have any fun. OK Michelle, it’s your turn now.”
“I don’t know…” American Glory turned squeamish again. She was fine with the idea as long as it was her friend trying it out, but now that she had to do it, she started to back peddle.
“Oh no you don’t. We agreed we’d both try it.” Chameleona wasn’t about to let the heroine off the hook. “Quit being chicken shit.”
Wincing from her friend’s scolding, American Glory finally conceded. “OK, hand it over.”
“Now we’re talking,” Chameleona strained to contain her excitement. “Hang on a sec.” She picked up the bottle, uncapped it again, and again turned it into the cloth, only this time there was no trickery, no slight of hand. This time she poured a large and powerful dosage into the rag. She could feel the coolness of the liquid coming in contact with her hand as it soaked completely through the fabric. “This ought to knock her on her pretty little ass for sure,” she mused to herself as she repressed a wicked little grin.
Having thoroughly soaked the cloth, she offered it to the trusting heroine. “Here you go, Michelle. Now do it just like I did.”
- - -
Wormsley was completely flabbergasted. He didn’t know what to think. So far his day was going up and down like a roller coaster. Just when he thought American Glory’s little super friend was going to knock herself out, clearing the path for him to make his move on the redheaded patriot, she stopped just before finishing the job. “Damn super bitches can’t be trusted to do anything right,” he grumbled to himself. His only hope now was to rush in while the friend was still weak and take out American Glory before the other one could get up and offer him much of a fight. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best plan he could come up with.
Then, before he could rush out and take them on, he stopped frozen in his tracks. He couldn’t believe what his own eyes were seeing. Now American Glory was going to take the cloth and use the chloroform on herself, too. What the heck was going on? He figured these two super twits must be playing some kind of game with each other, trading chloroform and seeing how much they could take. Well, that was just fine with him. If they wanted to goof around and get themselves all dazed and giddy, he sure wasn’t going to stop them. A couple of barely conscious super heroines would be easy to bring down, even for a low level grunt like him. He parted the bushes a little more with his trembling, anxious hands to provide a clearer view of the action and watched further, oblivious to the drool forming at the corners of his mouth.
- - -
American Glory took the saturated rag from her “friend”. She studied it for a moment, felt the weight in her hand, squeezed it slightly to feel the squishiness. Still unsure, she raised it slightly to within a few inches of her nose and took a precursory sniff. The faint whiff of fumes made her curl her nose in disgust.
“Ughhhh…” she complained, “This stuff smells awful.”
“Just at first,” Chameleona eagerly tried to encourage her. “Once you get past that first jolt, it gets smoother and easier to take. Kinda like drinking beer for the first time.”
The nervous heroine gulped a little in shame at her companion’s reference to beer drinking. She had always been a bit envious of Astro-Girl. Her friend was always so daring and adventurous in her personal life, always willing to try new things even if she knew she could get into trouble. Always so devil-may-care. But not American Glory. She was the consummate “good girl.” Always did what she was supposed to, never bucked the system. She knew that if Astro-Girl had known that she had never tried beer, or any alcoholic beverage for that matter, she’d never hear the end of it. Instead she just played it off like she agreed and understood.
“Yeah, OK,” she mumbled back unconvincingly.
Getting impatient, the villainess prodded further, “Go on, give it a go. Don’t puss out on me now. Pull up your big girl panties and suck it up.”
Finally giving in to peer pressure, American Glory conceded. “OK, here goes.” Still nervous, but not wanting to disappoint her friend, she sat up straight, held her breath and slowly raised the cloth and pressed it to her face, covering her nose and mouth, just like Astro-Girl had done. She could feel the cold dampness on her skin, and felt the first tendrils of fumes begin to creep up her nose. Bracing herself, she went for it and took her first deep breath. POW! That first breath was like getting hit by a truck. Immediately she could feel her head tingle and a rush of dizziness hit her. It was kind of like getting a sudden head rush when you stand up too quickly, but times a hundred. The impact of the fumes was so unexpected, so overwhelming, that she lost her balance and rocked back into the bench. Her hand instinctively fell away from her face.
“Wh-whoa...” she moaned as she closed her eyes and tried to force the world to stop spinning. “That was… uhhhh… that… whooaaa…”
As American Glory sat back moaning and sucking in fresh air, Chameleona thought to herself, “Oh no, this just won’t do. We’re not through yet, little girl.” She slid in a little closer to the heroine and her put hand behind her shoulders, gently pushing her back up into an upright seated position. Her other hand nudged at the cloth still in American Glory’s hand. “Come on, Michelle, that was pathetic. You didn’t give it near a good enough try. I took a lot more than that. And you know Power Queen and Galactress probably wouldn’t even feel anything from a little girly-sized whiff like that one. You can’t quit now. You said you’d try it with me. Don’t let me down.”
Still spinning from her first taste of chloroform, the redhead at first had a hard time comprehending what Astro-Girl was saying to her. All she could comprehend was being push back up and being pressed into doing it again. Something didn’t feel quite right. Why was her friend trying to force her to do something she obviously didn’t want to do? It wasn’t like Cindy to be this way, she was usually so thoughtful and understanding. But she did have that reckless side to her, so maybe she was just too caught up in the moment. As her head began to clear, she decided to humor Astro-Girl a little longer, just to make her feel better. This chloroform stuff was stronger than she had anticipated, but she felt sure she could handle one or two more breaths of it, and then she’d quit.
“Hhhhhuhhh… OK. Just one more time,” she agreed.
“That’s my girl,” Chameleona happily replied.
American Glory straightened up again, her friend tenderly and reassuringly rubbing her back. “Just one more time,” she thought to herself. Besides, she wasn’t truly prepared the first time, but now she knew what to expect, this time it would be better, easier. Steeling herself, she raised the cloth once again, pressed it to her face, and took another breath. Again came the rush and the tingling. Her pale blue eyes looked around the garden as she inhaled, and she could see the corners of her vision growing darker and darker. She started to feel warm and numb all at the same time as the world started to spin once more.
“Yeah, that’s it girl. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.” The false Astro-Girl cheered the heroine on, like a frat boy chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug” while one of his brothers funneled a beer. American Glory could tell this was somehow very important to her good friend, though she had no idea why. Nevertheless, she was not one to let her friends down, so she kept going.
Again she inhaled the fumes. Her nose was on fire from the chemical, and her head spun faster and faster. The dizziness was overpowering. She could feel herself begin to sway in her seat. She could no longer feel her toes, and as she tried to steady herself, her thighs, usually so strong and firm, felt like jelly. Her eyes rolled over toward Astro-Girl, and even though she could see her smiling face, she could not make out was she was saying, and she realized it was because of the ringing in her ears. This was enough, she had to stop. She couldn’t take it any longer.
American Glory’s hand grew limp, and she allowed it to drop away from her face. She tried to speak, but her words were slurred and hard to produce. “n-nuffff… no mmmmorhhhh… had eh-ehnuffff…”
Chameleona acted quickly. Not wanting to lose the momentum, she saddled up right next to American Glory and slipped her arm flirtatiously around the heroine’s trim waist. Pulling the groggy redhead right up close against her, she used her free hand to take hold of American Glory’s falling hand from underneath. Holding her victim tight, she guided the heroine’s hand back up to her face again.
“Oh no you don’t, American Glory, we’re not through yet,” she whispered into the redhead’s ear. “We’re not through by a long shot. You’re a big girl, you can take a lot more than that.”
“Huhhh?... wha-what are you mmhmmmm…” American Glory tried weakly to protest at her friend’s pushiness, but her words were cut off as Chameleona used her hand to press the cloth back into place. The heroine was beginning to get upset with her so-called friend, and she looked sternly, if not dazedly, back at her. Still, she could not help but to breath as her fellow heroine forced her to hold the cloth to her face. More and more of her resolve was being melted away by the insidious drug. The spinning was out of control now, her whole body had gone numb. She could feel herself growing weaker and weaker.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl. Suck it all in. There you go.” Chameleona continued to purr into the redhead’s ear.
“mmm… mmffff… hmmmMmmmmfff…” American Glory moaned in pointless protest.
“What’s that?” the villainess asked mockingly in response to the heroine’s moans, “What’s that you say? I can’t quite make that out. Did you say you want some more? Heh heh, OK sweetie. You can have some more. You can have aaaaall you want,” she taunted, and pressed American Glory’s hand even tighter against her nose and mouth.
Something was definitely wrong. Even in her barely conscious, addled state of mind American Glory could tell that. Weakly, she tried to pull her hand away from her face. When it became clear that her friend wasn’t going to let her, she tried with her free hand to pull Astro-Girl’s arm way. This effort also proved too weak to be effective. Normally, under any other circumstances, she could have overpowered her compatriot easily. But not this time. The chloroform had done its job. She was as weak and helpless as a newborn kitten in Chameleona’s eager, persuasive, and unyielding arms.
Finally, in a last ditch effort to escape the fumes, American Glory decided that since she could not force Astro-Girl to let go, she would stop participating in this little game and stop breathing. She held her breath, hoping she could wait long enough for the spinning to stop, and then regain enough composure to push her friend away. But Chameleona was no fool. With their bodies pressed so close together, the villainess could feel the cease in rising and falling of American Glory’s chest, she could hear the lack of breathy gulps under the cloth. She was on to the redhead.
“Oh no you don’t,” she chided, “No fair holding your breath.” The heroine just sat there, looking stubbornly back at her. “OK, if that’s how you want to play it, then let’s just change the rules up a little.”
The dazed and sleepy heroine tried to remain as stalwart and resolute as she could, but Chameleona wasn’t into playing fair. Without another word, she smiled wickedly as she looked deep into American Glory’s blue eyes, then quickly slid her arm down, moving her hand from around the redhead’s waist and slipped it expertly down the front of the heroine’s costume panties. Deftly she forced her fingers between the young girl’s thighs and found her crotch. Immediately she targeted the clit and began to pinch and rub and manipulate it with great proficiency.
“hhmmmMmmmmm!....” American Glory was shocked at the sudden invasion of her nether regions and could not repress her surprised moan. Her eyes opened wide and panicky at the violation. “MmmmMmmmHmmmmMmmhhhh!...”
This is exactly what Chameleona wanted. Normally, the seductive villainess was an expert at manipulating a woman’s erogenous zones, and never failed to bring any female to a screaming orgasm, no matter how stubborn or uptight she was. But this time she didn’t need to force a climax, this time all she needed was the breathy moans, and she was getting those in spades. She delighted at the feeling of American Glory’s moistening silkiness between her fingers as her hips squirmed and bucked. It was hard to tell whether the heroine was wriggling and fidgeting in protest or pleasure. It didn’t matter, so long as she kept moaning, so long as she kept breathing.
And breathe she did. The heroine’s small measure of remaining resolve broke the instant she felt those magic fingers. She could not control herself. Helplessly she continued to suck in the conquering fumes. It was over. Her vision was blurred, her ears ringing deafeningly, her body was completely numb except for the tingling, her muscles basically useless. She could comprehend nothing, other than sweet sensations being forced upon her clit and the ever enclosing darkness. Soon her body stopped its pitiful gyrations. Her arms went limp, her body relaxed, and she became nothing more than a warm and inviting ragdoll in Chameleona’s arms.
The villainess rolled the redhead’s head over so that she could look into her eyes. The heroine’s eyelids grew so heavy that she could barely keep them open. Chameleona stared intently into those big baby blues for few more seconds, then whispered with a sinister sweetness, “Nitey-nite, princess.”
The last thing American Glory saw as a brief flicker of an inhuman green glow flash across Astro-Girl’s eyes. With the fleeting realization that her friend was not her friend at all, the heroine gave up the fight. With a final breathy moan, her beautiful eyes rolled back in her head, her lids fluttered shut, and she was gone. The mighty heroine was defeated.
“‘Bout time,” the shape-shifter snorted as she watched American Glory give in to final defeat. She held the cloth in place for a few more seconds, making sure that her victim was completely under, then removed her hand and let the cloth fall. Slipping her other hand from between the sleeping redhead’s legs, she took her arm from around her waist and laid the heroine gently back against bench, allowing her head to loll limply against her shoulder. The villainess daintily licked her fingers and enjoyed the taste of triumph. “Mmm mmm mmm, sweeter than honey.”
Now she checked the slumbering girl to make sure all the signs of unconsciousness were there. She picked up her arm by the wrist and let it drop loosely to her hips. Once, twice, and third time. No resistance, totally limp. Check. Then she gently pushed open the redhead’s eyelids to look at her eyes. First one, then the other. Rolled back and no sign of cognizance. Check. Satisfied, she took a deep sigh of relief and appreciated her accomplishment.
“What a chump,” she said to her oblivious companion. “I can’t believe you fell for that so easily. You super types are always soooo trusting. Sure makes my job a whole helluva lot easier. Still, you proved to be more of a pushover than most. Certainly not a hero worthy of a hundred million dollar price tag.” Chameleona let her eyes venture down the form and figure of the snoozing girl beside her. She let her fingers trail gently and teasingly down American Glory’s body, from her slender neck, down and around her firm, generous breasts as they rose and fell slightly while the heroine breathed softly in her sleep, then down her toned midriff, across her hips, and up and down her inner thighs. “Then again,” she mused to herself, obviously getting turned on, “if I were somebody like Master Disaster, I’d pay a pretty penny to get a piece of you and have this body all to myself, too. Not too shabby at all. Mmmmm.”
- - -
This was it. His big chance. Wormsley watched as American Glory began to chloroform herself. He became excited at seeing her sway dizzily under the cloth. He then became even more excited when the other heroine coaxed her into doing it some more when it looked like she was going to quit. And when the tight little brunette pulled her in close and forced her to continue to suck in the stuff, he could hardly contain the bulge growing uncomfortably in his pants. This was too much to bare, but bare it he did. Finally, his heart leapt with glee as he saw the redhead pass out completely and get laid out unconscious. Now was the time. Whoever this other heroine was, she had done his job for him. All he had to do now was take her out of the picture, and American Glory was all his. He could just scoop her up and present her to the Master all tied up in a pretty bow.
In his grubby hands Wormsley eagerly fidgeted with the chloro-mask that he had absconded with back at the Cathedral. It was one of the handiest creations from Disaster Laboratories. A completely self contained rubber anesthesia mask with a built-in aerosol mister. Affixed to the front of the mask was a glass vial filled with chloroform. But not just any chloroform. This was a special, extra strong concoction that the boys at the lab had whipped up. It worked just like regular chloroform, only it didn’t dissipate and evaporate quite as fast and had ten times the kick. He knew American Glory was strong… certainly no Captain Mighty or Power Queen by any stretch of the imagination, but super strong nonetheless, and so he figured he’d need something a bit more potent than just your regular, run-of-the-mill chloroform or ether to take her down. But now that she was out, he decided he would use it on her friend instead. If it was good enough for one, it should be more than good enough for the other.
He couldn’t wait any longer. The young brunette seemed so preoccupied with her sleeping partner that he was sure she wouldn’t see him coming. It was time to pounce.
- - -
Chameleona was thoroughly enjoying her prize, but she knew she couldn’t stay there all day. She had no idea when the rest of the Justice Squad would return, and if nothing else, the real Astro-Girl was still on the grounds somewhere. She could come looking for her friend any minute. It was time to pack her things and get out while the getting was good.
Still, she couldn’t help but relish the moment. She sat back on the bench, crossed her legs, and rested her arms on the back of the seat. Closing her eyes, she let the sun’s warming rays soak into her skin, breathing in the moment, and reflected on how good life was going to be once she was a millionaire. All was right with the world. It was as if time had stopped to allow her to savor her well deserved victory.
Suddenly, her idyllic moment in time was shattered. Out of nowhere, a pair of strong thick arms grabbed her and jolted her out of her daydreams. One arm wrapped around her shoulders and over her chest and pinned her hard against the back of the bench. The other sweaty hand moved in front of her face and clamped a cupped rubber mask over her mouth and nose.
“What the fu… mmmmblmmm!...” the villainess tried to yell before the mask cut her off and muffled her words. Before she could react physically, a gruff and weasely voice growled in her ear from behind…
“Say good night, babe.”
The stubby thumb on the hand in front of her face then maneuvered and pressed a button on the front of the mask, and instantly a gassy mist sprayed from the inside of the rubber cup. Chameleona gasped and involuntarily gulped as the super chloroform vaporized and was sucked down into her lungs.
“Mmmmmffff mmmm… nooo-mmmmmhmmmmblmmm…”
She tried desperately to free herself, pulling at the hand on her face and clawing at the hairy, warty arm around her chest. Her legs kicked wildly in front of her, but it was all to no avail. The man who held her was too strong, and more importantly, the chloro-mist filling her lungs was way too strong. This drug was specially formulated to knock out extra tough metahumans, and aside from her mutant shape-shifting abilities, Chameleona possessed no additional powers, no super strength or heightened resilience. In short, she had no chance against these fumes. She was toast.
The shape-shifter struggled and kicked for another minute or two. Wormsley enjoyed the feeling of her warm wiggling body in his arms. He giggled depravedly as he squeezed her, and Chameleona seemed to recognize the tone and pitch of his voice. Her last thought was that she had heard that horrid, sniveling little laugh somewhere before.
Before she could put two and two together, it was over. The scientifically engineered drug had performed its duties all too well. The shapely vixen ceased her kicking and struggling. As her body went limp, her eyes grew heavy and, with a final soft moan, they fluttered and fell shut. She had a one-way ticket to Slumberville, and she had finally reached her destination.
Wormsley was giddy with success. He released the flaccid, vanquished brunette and hopped and danced around, celebrating his victory.
“Yes! I win! Now the Master will see. Now he will see Wormsley in all his glory. Victory is mine. Mine, mine MINE!”
As he danced, he worked his way around to the front of the bench. There he stopped and looked down upon not one, but two costume-clad beauties, both sleeping soundly and at his mercy.
“Oh, what joy. Two lovely lassies for the taking.” He looked over at the would-be Astro-Girl. “I don’t know who you are, little girl, but you must be somebody. And you’re certainly pretty enough. I’ll take you to the Master as a bonus. Two for the price of one. Certainly then he will see my quality and worth, and reward me richly. Oh, happy day!”
The brutish little pug clapped to himself like a child as he leered at his dozing conquests. Then something strange happened. The young brunette started to glow, a faint blue glow, and as she did, she started to change. Wormsley was frightened at first, not understanding what was happening, but as he watched, he saw her body contort, grow longer, taller, fuller, more curvaceous. Her skin changed color, shifting from a pale flesh tone to a lustrous shade of purple. Her hair sparkled as the mousy brown hue turned into a tussle of bright green silk. And her silvery outfit faded away and was replaced by… nothing. Before he knew it, Wormsley found himself staring down at the naked and irresistible body of none other than the criminal shape-shifter, Chameleona. It took him a good solid minute to realize what was going on, to piece together the puzzle of the situation. Had he actually outsmarted somebody else who was out to steal his glory? Yes, it would appear that he had. But more impressive than this revelation was the discovery of who that somebody else was.
His mouth drooped with amazement, and the drool dribbled from his bottom lip like a leaky faucet. His hands went limp and he dropped the chloro-mask to the ground. Long had Wormsley worshipped Chameleona from afar. OK, maybe worship wasn’t quite the right word; the only being an acolyte of the Cathedral of Pain was allowed to worship was the Master himself. But he had lusted and longed for her from afar, that was to be sure. To him she had always seemed a fresh, exquisite flower, perfect and unblemished, and eternally unattainable. So many times he had seen her at the various conferences and soirees that the Master had held at his estate, always flirting and flitting from one powerful super villain or crime boss to another, but never did she have time for Wormsley. The few occasions on which he had summoned up the courage to approach her at one of these events, just to say hello or to get a mere whiff of her perfume, were met with the foulest contempt and rejection.
But now here she was, in all her glory, laid out before him. His eyes hungrily scoured her figure, the suppleness of her neck, the tautness of her arms, the curves of her breasts, the swirl of her belly button, the delicate curling of the stripe of baby-fine green pubic hair neatly trimmed above her holiest of holies. His hands shaking, he stepped forward and reached out to her. His fingers grazed her soft cheek, then trembled onto her shoulder. They tripped down her chest, and clumsily groped and stroked one of her breasts. He cupped his hand underneath her bosom, then squeezed it rudely, letting his thumb play across the bluish-violet skin of her nipple. A trail of drool drizzled from his lower lip and trickled down along her satiny inner thigh as he grinned and took pleasure in his new found toy.
Suddenly, he had a revelation. “Wait a minute. I… don’t have to give you over to the Master. Heh heh… he only wants the Glory girl. He said nothing about you, my sweet. Wormsley can have it all. I can deliver her to the Master, I can receive the reward, and probably a promotion. And… and… I can have you… all to myself. Heheheheheh…”
Wormsley delighted in his decision. Barely able to contain his joy, he quickly went to work securing his goods. Picking up his chloro-mask, he moved over to American Glory. Fixing a pair of elastic straps to the mask, he slid it over her head, positioning it over her face. The movement seemed to jog the heroine a bit, and as he adjusted the mask’s position, the heroine moaned very slightly, and he saw her eyes start to flutter open. He pressed the button on the mask, and again the built-in aerosol mechanism vaporized the super-chloroform and misted it into the redhead’s nose and mouth. He held her face steady and watched intently as the faint glimpse of life that had crept into her eyes quickly faded, and with a breathy sigh she was once again lulled into a chemical induced slumber. Satisfied that she was fully out, Wormsley then took a roll of industrial strength binding tape from his belt and trussed the heroine up, taping her wrists, then her ankles, then her legs, and then finally he taped her arms to her sides. With her body bound and the mask firmly fixed to her face, he had the heroine secured, in perfect, unspoiled condition, and ready for delivery.
Next he turned to the object of his lecherous affections. He taped and bound Chameleona’s body up in the same manner as American Glory. He then took the discarded cloth from the seat of the bench, as well as the bottle the shape-shifter had brought for the job. Opening the bottle, he poured virtually all of the remaining contents of the container into the rag, soaking it until it literally dripped with chloroform. He pressed the cloth to the villainess’ face, then secured it in place with more of the binding tape. The sleeping beauty never stirred, as she was still under the full affect of the super-chloroform dosage she received before. Now, she had her own cloth taped to her face, soaked with her own chloroform, which was more than potent enough to keep a regular-strength female like herself out for hours. Had she been awake, the irony would not have been lost on her.
His packages secure, the squat little toady hoisted the unconscious women up, slinging each over one of his broad shoulders. Looking around one last time to make sure no one was around to see him, he trotted off toward the back of the Enclave property, to where his van was waiting on the other side of the fence.
“Off we go, my lovelies. I apologize for the bumpy ride. Well, I don’t apologize to you, my sweet,” he snickered as he turned and kissed Chameleona’s naked lavender hip. “For you, I can promise a very bumpy ride. Heheheh… You laughed at Wormsley before. Wormsley wasn’t good enough for you, was he? No, he wasn’t. Well, let’s see you reject old Wormsley this time. You will be screaming Wormsley’s name before I’m through with you. I promise, you will scream my name. Heheheheheh! Who’s laughing now? Hmmmm? Who’s… laughing… now? Hehehahahoohaha!”
Chameleona could not answer as her sleeping face bounced on her new master’s back. The happy little toady scampered and skipped merrily across the yard to the wall with both his prize and his powerless princess, where his coach, his prosperity, and his every fantasy awaited him.
THE END
Re: All's Fair in Love, Villainy, and Chloroform, Part 2
Agreed loved the shape-shifting villianess!a06mhe wrote:Thanks for an awesome story. =D>
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
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flagonforge
- Sargeant 1st Class
- Posts: 213
- Joined: 17 years ago
Re: All's Fair in Love, Villainy, and Chloroform, Part 2
Very nice, I love seeing the tables turned and it's refreshing for an 'Igor' to get the girl...