The Ultimate Superheroines Forum

Fuchsia Fox: "Arena of Doom"

Prologue -- Washington D.C.

Keri Keller bustled through the Channel 3 television news room, glancing up at the wall clock. Less than five minutes to 3 p.m. The beautiful redhead hurried into the studio, smoothing her lavender silk blouse and checking her hair and makeup in her compact mirror. She was filling in this week for one of the regular anchors and was due to do a thirty-second teaser for the six o'clock broadcast. Through the glass walls of the control booth, she could see the news director, Steve Corbett, huddled in conference with one of the technicians, and she popped her head in the door to have a word with him.

"...broke into the network satellite feed from our bureau in Iraq," the technician was complaining. "God knows how they did it."

"Dammit, it's those ORCUS people again," Corbett said. "What do you think they--" His words trailed off as he saw something on the monitor that Keri couldn't see from her point of view in the doorway. "Holy crap!" he swore.

"Is this for real?" said the technician.

Keri's ears perked up with interest. The fanatical terrorist group calling itself ORCUS (after some obscure mythical demi-god) had started off small, but then suddenly swept over the Middle East like a sandstorm, bringing violence and destruction. Several American and British journalists had been captured and publically beheaded. Although the very idea made Keri sick to think of, it was still news. "What's going on, Steve?" she asked, stepping into the control room.

"Keri, thank goodness! Take the anchor desk!" the news director said, cutting her off as he slid his chair along the control panel to the keyboard that fed the teleprompter. "Get ready to do a live Special Bulletin."

"Gotcha!" the redhead replied, her heart humming with excitement as she hurried to the set. Cameramen, lighting people and various assistants seemed to appear from out of nowhere, getting ready for the broadcast. A live bulletin! This was the kind of thing that got you noticed in the news business. If she did well with this, it might earn her a permanant anchor position! As she slid into the chair, a makeup girl hovered over her face for a few seconds. Once she was done, Keri quietly undid the top two buttons of her blouse, just for luck. Suddenly a bell rang. Words were scrolling past on the prompter and Corbett was pointing at her frantically to indicate that she was on the air.

"Good afternoon," she said, composing her features into the serious, slightly pensive look that she secretly thought of as "intellectual sexy". "This is Keri Keller for Channel 3 Action News. Shocking developments in the Middle East today as the radical ORCUS terrorist organization released another video message. What you are about to see is live. With the time difference between Washington and Iraq, it is nearly eleven o'clock there..."

Keri relaxed a little as she saw the cue telling her that camera 1 was no longer on her. The station was now broadcasting the satellite feed. The redhead looked at the monitor built into the top of the anchor desk, preparing to comment on what she saw. The picture showed what looked like a courtyard, with a huge bedouin tent in the foreground. The buildings and towers in the background were of sand-weathered stone. The sky was black, since it was late at night there.

The image focused on a tall, dark man wearing black and white robes and a turban. His face was surprisingly handsome, adorned with a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were utterly black, seeming to look right through a person. "The Great Satan," he said, "walks with the trembling step of a tired old man, teetering on the brink of collapse. The West rain their bombs upon us with their jet planes by night, for they are children and fear to face us like men. They are weak and cowardly. So cowardly that they send a feeble, insignificant woman to do their work for them. Behold..."

In response to his command, the camera panned across the courtyard, dotted with small groups of spectators, and stopped at a wide doorway. From out of its depths came a pair of men in brown robes, escorting between them... the Fuchsia Fox!

Keri let out a gasp of surprise. There could be no possible mistake; she had met Washington's resident superheroine up close. The Fox's sleek, sexy torso was clad in a reddish-purple halter top, showing off soft bare shoulders, lightly brushed by silky brunette tresses that looked as if she had just stepped out of a salon. On the bodice, her famous fox-head emblem stretched across the twin globes of her delectible bust. Below her taut, bare midriff were matching briefs. Below them, her long, supermodel-class legs ended in high-heeled ankle boots. Her lithe arms were sheathed in elbow length fuchsia gloves.

The men on either side seized her arms. The spunky heroine indignantly pulled herself free of them, nevertheless it was clear that she remained their prisoner, making no attempt to fight as they escorted her across the courtyard.

The speaker continued. "This immodestly-dressed American harlot dared to affront us, thinking that she had a prayer of standing against our might! This cannot go unpunished. We will demonstrate how wrong she was, and how wrong the West is to oppose us. Behold... Manticore!"

A huge, hulking brute of a man stepped into the courtyard. Naked from the waist up, his lower body was dressed in loose khaki trousers and combat boots. His head sported a thick tawny mane like a lion, and a long, spiked tail grew out of his rear, coiling upward above his head like a scorpion's. His arms were thick and muscular, his hands like claws. The crowds around the courtyard cheered. Even the Fuchsia Fox looked taken aback by the sight of him.

"Watch now and tremble," the cult leader said, "as Manticore rips this feeble whore apart with his bare hands!"

Keri glanced at Corbett, sitting in the control booth, her pulse racing with shock. He wasn't really going to broadcast this live, was he?

A raucous cheer blared in the redhead's earpiece, drawing her attention back to the video monitor. Manticore had charged at the Fuchsia Fox, bearing down upon her like a bull. The sassy young heroine stood her ground defiantly, at the very last second evading his groping hands by ducking under his reach, spinning around and kicking him in the ribcage. The hulking terrorist let out a grunt of pain and stumbled.

Keri couldn't help smiling. Knowing the Fox, she had probably made some cutting remark to her adversary, which had not been picked up by the camera's microphone. "As you can see," Keri said aloud for the benefit of the watching audience, "the person they're calling an 'immodestly-dressed American' is none other than the superheroine known as the Fuchsia Fox, who is well known in Washington D.C. for her good deeds." On the monitor, the Manticore thrust himself to his feet and tried to grab the superlady once again, only to be gracefully eluded once more. "And I think you can also see," Keri continued, a little bit smugly, "that she seems to have things well in hand. It certainly looks as if ORCUS has bitten off more than it can--"

As Manticore lunged once again, the cocky superheroine leaped gracefully over his head, but the terrorist flexed his knees and jumped with surprising speed in a person so big. Latching his beefy hand around the Fox's exquisite ankle, he plucked the girl from the sky, slamming her into the sandy courtyard.

"FOX NO!" Keri burst out, almost forgetting where she was. The lissome young heroine scrambled to her knees, blocking the oncoming villain's punches with her forearms. He pivoted to the right, swinging his tail around and smacking the Fox across the head and shoulders with its spiky end, sending her tumbling across the sand. "I don't believe this!" the reporter wailed. "It looks like the Fox has been hit hard! She's down... she's... she's..."

Keri glanced desperately at Corbett in the control booth, trying to catch his eye. Surely he was going to cut away. Surely he wasn't going to keep broadcasting this live while the Fox got manhandled like this! The news director had a telephone clasped to his ear. With his free hand, he made the signal for her to keep talking.

Swallowing her fear, Keri looked back at the monitor. Manticore had rushed the Fox, grappling with her, one muscular arm around her alluring waist, holding her prisoner while his other hand fondled her gorgeous little breasts. The Fox was struggling in vain. For all her super-powered might, the Manticore seemed to be just as strong as she was!

"Um... er... naturally channel 3 will continue to provide live coverage of this important story," Keri narrated, her cheeks warm with sympathy for the apparently defenseless superheroine. "It looks like the Fox is in trouble... I don't know how this could be happening..." The reporter was babbling now, and she knew it. But she couldn't help wondering how the Fox had gotten herself into such a situation, or what she was doing in the Middle East in the first place.


***

Chapter 1 -- Seventeen hours earlier...

It was nearly ten o'clock in the evening when Jennifer Traylor Fletcher stepped outside the Smithsonian. It was a clear, August night, a three-quarter moon riding high among the sparse clouds above the National Mall. The pretty 25-year-old waited at the top of the steps, the faint breeze stirring her shoulder-length brunette hair. Her tour guide uniform consisted of a short-sleeved white blouse, a sky blue pleated skirt and matching necktie. Her necktie was hanging undone, the top few buttons of her blouse open to expose her smooth, swanlike neck to the night air.

Abruptly she was joined by Lisa, a blonde girl about her same age, wearing the same uniform. "All set; let's rumble," Lisa said, as the two girls walked briskly toward the Metro station. They had been working all day on a new display which had turned out so well that even the curator, Dr. Gervais, had grudgingly admitted that it was "very good". "An actual pat on the back!" Lisa marveled. "Would you have ever believed that old Gervy was an actual human being?"

"Why don't you let him catch you calling him 'old Gervy' and find out?" Jennifer said with a grin.

"No thanks; I like my lungs right where they are," Lisa said as they hurried down the steps of the Metro, high heels clicking, pleated skirts swirling around their legs. "At least we have two days off. Want to stop somewhere for a drink?"

"Sure," Jennifer sighed. There was no particular hurry about getting home. At about 6:30 she had called her husband Martin to let him know that she was going to be working late. Since they were still newlyweds, he had been very disappointed but supportive. But then around nine he had called her back to tell her that HE had been called in. Martin was a Captain in the U.S. Army, and when he had to report in after hours, it was generally pretty serious. She didn't expect to see him again tonight. "I'd better text Martin to let him know where I'll be."

Reaching inside her purse for her smartphone, the brunette froze as spotted her other phone. It was a simple cell phone with a fuchsia-colored case, and although it didn't look like anything special, it was actually an untraceable line which very few people had the number for. The little red LED was blinking.

"Oh, you are so lucky to be married," Lisa was saying. "Every guy I meet turns out to be such a loser."

Jennifer couldn't suppress a quick memory of how she and Martin had met four years before, while she was an archaeology student in Iraq, both of them being chased by fanatical armed insurgents. "Maybe you're just not looking in the right places," she said absently, as she took out the phone and read the text message.

It said: "Urgent we meet @ Pentagon ASAP -- Blackbird."

"Er... I'm sorry, Lisa," Jennifer said, biting her lip, "but I need to take a rain check on that--"

Suddenly strong hands grabbed her from behind, knocking the phone out of her hands. Jennifer felt a man's arm snake around her slim waist, holding her tightly against his body, his fingers latching onto the strap of her shoulder bag. Twisting her head, she caught a glimpse of a man just behind her wearing a dull gray hoodie, unshaved stubble on his chin. And then she felt the cold steel of an automatic pistol pressed against her smooth bare neck. Fear chilled her blood like icewater. Lisa let out a feminine squeak of fright.

"Don't scream," the man hissed, his eyes darting anxiously back and forth. "Don't make a sound or I'll kill her. I swear to God I'll put a bullet in her head. Get back here."

Jennifer's attacker slunk into the shadows behind one of the subway platform's thick concrete support columns, dragging her along with him. In high heels and off balance, the slim brunette girl was helpless to resist. Lisa followed meekly as if tied to him by a string, her terrified eyes glued to the gun held to her friend's throat.

"Hand over your purses and jewelry," the mugger said, his free hand roaming upward along Jennifer's smooth, svelte torso. "And be quick about it."

"Please, please don't hurt us," Lisa whimpered, surrendering her purse and stripping off her wristwatch. When Jennifer seemed too stunned to move, the blonde reached forward to unhook the shoulder strap of her purse from her arms. "For God's sake, Jenny, give him your purse! There's nothing in there that can't be replaced!"

Speak for yourself, Jennifer wanted to say, her heart sinking as the bag slid off her arm and into the man's grasping clutches. Her Fuchsia Fox costume was folded up in the bottom of her purse! She couldn't possibly let a mere robber get away with that, and yet in her present situation, she couldn't see how she could stop him, either. All she had to do was speak the name Ishtar to transform herself into an invincible superheroine, but how could she do that in full view of Lisa and the mugger without giving away her secret identity? She felt so powerless.

"Got any jewelry, honeybun?" the mugger said directly into her ear, breaking into her thoughts. The pistol still clutched in his right hand, he wrapped the shoulder straps of the two girls' purses around his left wrist, freeing his hand for use. His left arm looped around Jennifer's body to hold her prisoner, fingers exploring up and down against the front of her lean torso. "Don't be shy. Rings? Bracelets?"

Jennifer didn't wear a wedding ring, but she immediately thought about her two golden Bracelets of Ishtar. If he wanted to take them, however, he was out of luck. For the past four or five weeks they had been inexplicably stuck to her wrists and wouldn't come off. Timidly she started to raise her arms, but the hoodlum didn't even seem interested.

"Shit!" the robber hissed, pulling Jennifer further into the corner, where they wouldn't be seen by any passing passengers. The helpless girl could feel the man's hard body pressed against her from behind and hear his breathing, heavy and ragged with sexual arousal. "Hey good looking," he whispered to Lisa, his mouth set in a lewd grin as he eyeballed her long, shapely legs, "open your blouse. Let's see your titties."

Fearful for Jennifer's safety, Lisa reluctantly obeyed. Timidly she reached up and undid the buttons of her blouse one by one, letting it hang open to show off her slender body and her two pert breasts, sheathed in a white underwire bra.

"Oh that's fine," the mugger commented, as he pulled Jennifer more tightly against him. The defenseless girl could feel his hard, disgusting erection start to press aginst her round butt, causing an involuntary spasm of heat to wash over her body. He was sweating, his right hand holding the gun firmly against her throat as his left hand slid upward to rub against her supple B-cups, fondling her through her clothes. "That's SO fine! Now, why don't you go ahead and take your panties off?"

Lisa swallowed hard, judging her chances of making a run for it and coming up negative. "Please... please don't make me," she whimpered, a rosy blush blossoming in her high cheeks.

Jennifer's skin was feeling hot and flushed herself, both from the indignation of being used like a sex doll and from anger at being utterly helpless to do anything about it! Even worse was being forced to watch Lisa abused like this. She didn't want to compromise her secret identity, but how much further could she let him go before she did something? Cautiously she tried squirming within her attacker's grasp, trying to see just how far he would allow her to move. His grip immediately tightened across her upper torso, his hand cupping her right tit and squeezing it through her clothes.

"Hold still, honeybun," he admonished her, his rough face pressed right up against Jennifer's smooth cheek, his breathing becoming even more ragged. "Nobody moves until I get my jollies. Take 'em off, blondie!" he insisted. "Right now!"

Dropping the girls' purses to free up his left hand, he reached underneath the hem of Jennifer's skirt, groping blindly around her smooth, bare inner thighs. The frightened girl tried to struggle, but with the barrel of the gun still rammed against her neck, all she could do was squirm with dismay as his clammy hand grabbed her crotch, his fingers rubbing insistently against her tender cleft through the skimpy fabric of her panties.

Her eyes glistening with tears of helplessness, Lisa lifted the hem of her own skirt, momentarily exposing a pair of pink nylon hip-huggers with little black hearts. Closing her eyes, she eased them down her hips, bending forward as the feminine garment glided over her knees and fell around her ankles. She stood back upright, letting her skirt fall back into place as she stepped out of her undies.

"Oh I want me some of that," the mugger whispered, licking his lips, his fingers stroking Jennifer's moist cooch. "Come closer, blondie. Raise your skirt again, let me see that fine pussy..."

NO! Jennifer's indignation and anger reached a sudden peak. Her body felt as if it were covered in fire. To her surprise, she recognized the feeling as the same feeling that accompanied her transformation into the Fuchsia Fox! Her golden power bracelets felt as if they were pulsating, feeding her their power. And yet she had not called upon Ishtar, there had been no explosion of light. The mugger didn't even seem to notice that anything was happening.

The lissome girl didn't stop to wonder what was going on. All she knew was that she felt superhuman strength surging through her sylph-like young body, and without hesitation, she acted. Grabbing hold of the hoodlum's left wrist, Jennifer twisted out of his grasp, giving his arm a painful wrench and knocking his gun hand away. He let out a yelp of surprise, trying to bring the gun back around, but he was already too late. With speed of a cat, the graceful girl latched her fingers around his throat like a vise and easily lifted his 170 pounds completely off the floor, slamming his back hard against the nearby concrete support column. The gun clattered to the floor as he let out a yell that echoed through the subway platform.

Lisa's eyes opened just as Jennifer allowed him to slide back to the floor then let go of his throat. The blonde blinked in astonishment. "Jenny? H-how... how did you--?"

"Run get help," Jennifer said. "Hurry."

As her friend ran, clutching her blouse closed over her bosum, Jennifer turned once again toward the mugger. Recovering somewhat from his surprise, he lunged at her, his bunched fist aimed right at the girl's pretty face. Jennifer intercepted the blow, catching his arm and spinning him around as one gorgeous leg rose up and kneed him in the stomach. Forcing the hoodlum against the support column again, she reached around and grabbed his balls through his faded jeans. His eyes regarding her with outright amazement as well as fear, he gave a whimper of agony as delicate feminine fingers which could bend steel tightened around his testicles.

"You're lucky I'm not a vengeful person," Jennifer said quietly. Then she heard rapidly approaching footsteps as two transit policemen appeared. While the police handcuffed the mugger, Jennifer picked up her cell phone from off the floor, glancing at the text screen which was still displaying its last urgent message.

Oh you know I LOVE it!

[Quick disclaimer here -- although I can't deny that the story was inspired by certain real events, it is fiction. The ORCUS terrorist group is not intended to represent any real-life terrorist group you may have heard about in the news.]


Chapter 2 --

Once their statements had been taken, Jennifer took Lisa home, still shaken from her experience. Only then could the brunette slip away and find a secure place to change into her Fuchsia Fox costume -- the clingy reddish-purple briefs, the cute little ankle boots, the elbow-length gloves, and of course the halter top with its fox-head chest emblem stretched across her nubile young bust.

Blackbird was waiting for her at the top of the steps at the Pentagon's main entrance, looking spectacular in her sleek, black, full-body suit with wedge heels, a black cowl and blue visor covering all but the lower half of her face. "Fox!" the NSA operative said with a show of relief. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."

"I was held up," the fuchsia-clad superheroine replied. "What's the emergency?"

"Uncle Sam would like to ask a favor," Blackbird said, "undertaking a small mission. They offered it to me, but after working with you that one time, I know my limitations. And this is far too important to let pride get in the way."

The Fox frowned, intrigued. "What kind of mission is it?"

"I'd better let General Hanson explain it," the other girl said. "Shall we?"

Using her own security clearance, Blackbird escorted the Fuchsia Fox, leading her through the broad, empty corridors, past armed guards who scrutinized the two superheroines' heavenly young bodies with a good deal more than professional interest. At last they arrived at a conference room with a plasma screen on the wall. Along one side of the table sat a two-star general, flanked on either side by lesser-ranking aides. One of these was a captain, and Jennifer choked off a gasp of surprise when she saw that he was her husband, Martin! So this was the same emergency he had been called in for!

"This is the Fuchsia Fox?" the general said gruffly, running his eye up and down the heroine's lush, feminine curves.

"Yes, General Hanson," Blackbird replied, resting her hands on her own shapely hips. "I can personally vouch for her."

"Thank you for agreeing to talk to us, Ms. Fox," the general said. "Please sit down. Is there anything we can get you?"

"No thanks," the heroine said, tossing her lovely brunette tresses. Trying not to make eye contact with Martin, she pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table and eased into it. Blackbird gracefully took the seat beside her.

"Let's get to it then," the general said. He nodded almost imperceptibly to one of this aides, and the plasma screen lit up, showing footage of men in robes, fighting with automatic weapons in the streets of a desert city. "You've heard of the so-called ORCUS cult movement in the Middle East I'm sure."

"Of course I have," the Fox replied, hardly able to suppress a shudder of disgust. She had really become aware of them about two months earlier, when she had seen a news report of them blowing up a 10,000 year old temple in Syria. With her interest in history and archaeology, Jennifer had been shocked and horrified at the casual manner in which they had destroyed the priceless treasure for no reason. Later she heard how they had closed down schools for women, pressing them into slavery, or recruited boys into their army by force. "They turn my stomach. But--"

"The U.S. military has been doing what we can to combat them," Hanson interrupted, "considering that we're a bit overextended in that region already. The President and the Joint Chiefs are wary of putting more boots on the ground. We've been providing weapons and training to defense forces, making air strikes against their weapon depots. Our intelligence network is working to locate and identify their leaders. This man, for example..."

The screen was now showing a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in black and white robes and a small black turban. His face, with its hooked nose and neatly trimmed black beard, wore an expression of cruelty and arrogance. But it was his eyes that drew her attention. Their irises were nearly black, and there was no denying a kind of dark attraction about them. The Fox stirred uncomfortably in her seat, fighting down the feeling that his eyes were looking straight at her, trying to mesmerize her, even though it was only a recorded image.

"He came to our attention two months ago," the general said, "and since then he's risen to become one of the major players. He calls himself Nibiru."

Jennifer frowned. That wasn't even an Aramaic name; that was Sumerian...

"He gives me the shivers," said Blackbird, crossing her arms nervously. "If ever there were a prime target for an airstrike, it would be him."

"He's too clever for that," Hanson said. "He keeps moving, and he always travels with two human shields nearby -- captured western journalists or aid workers. Plus, he has a bodyguard. This man..."

The image changed to show a much broader, more muscular man with a tawny mane like a lion. Naked from the waist up, on his lower half he wore loose khaki trousers and combat boots. A long, spiked tail seemed to sprout from the back of his spine. "His name is Abu Paraz, but he's known better as Manticore. He was the sole survivor of a Kurdish village which Saddam Hussein obliterated when he was a child. Some kind of mutagenic poison gas. Everyone else died, but he grew up to look like this. According to our intelligence, his skin is tough enough to withstand grenades, and he has been observed to pick up and throw a 6-ton armored car."

"See what I mean?" Blackbird said, leaning over and placing a reassuring hand on the Fox's silken-gloved arm. "I'm pretty sure you could take him, though."

"Wait just a minute," said Jennifer, pushing herself back from the table in alarm as she suddenly saw where this was going. "I'm not a government assassin. If that's what you have in mind, you can--"

"No, ma'am, I wouldn't ask you to do that," Hanson interrupted. "We received this surveillance footage earlier this evening, from an ORCUS base near Al-Raqqawa..."

The picture on the screen was now showing the courtyard of what looked like a fortress. Nibiru emerged from the back of a truck and walked toward a bedouin tent which was pitched in the courtyard. Behind him, his bodyguards hustled two men dressed in khaki Western clothing out of the truck, their wrists bound in front of them with rope. One of the men had sandy brown hair, the other black, and both looked as if they hadn't been allowed to shave in days.

"The one on the left is Wade Lawton, a journalist," General Hanson said as the image froze on the two men. "But the one on the right is Yusef Khouri; he's actually a CIA agent who was sent in to infiltrate the group. Obviously his cover has been at least partly blown, but if they knew that he was a spy, he'd probably be dead already. The bottom line is we've got to get him out of there. The intel he's been amassing over the past weeks about their command structure could be just what we need to shut them down for good. We can't get authorization to send in a SEAL team, because they don't have anything that could deal with this Manticore character. Any failure would be a public relations disaster. The President is not willing to risk that. But you could go in unofficially and rescue our agent for us."

"Come on, Fox," Blackbird urged, sidling up close to her. "I'd do it myself, but let's face it -- I'm not quite in your league."

One of the general's aides spoke up. "We do have a plan to take some of the heat off you. We're going to send in a group of Hedgetrimmer drones to provide a diversion. Captain Fletcher here was part of the team that designed the Hedgetrimmer and is one of our best drone pilots."

Jennifer was grateful to finally have an excuse to look across the table at Martin. As they nodded curtly to one another, their eyes met more warmly. Jennifer wished that she could ask him what he thought. His body language was tense, his hands cupped together on the table in front of him. She could tell that he wasn't entirely happy with the idea of her putting herself in danger, but she couldn't allow that to be a factor in her decision. Risk was part of the deal when you wore a costume like this...

"You would be doing your country a service," the aide added. "Not to mention helping all the people ORCUS is hurting. If you can get those two men out safely, we'd be free to--" General Hanson cut him off by raising his hand sharply.

The Fox stood up to full height, feeling the eyes of all the men on her. She sighed. "OK, I'll do it."

***

Chapter 3 --

Twelve hours later, a Navy helicopter came in for a landing on the deck of the cruiser USS Chamberlain, off the coast of Cyprus. Local time was approximately 7 p.m., and there was plenty of light left in the sky as the executive officer and a handful of crewmen watched the side door of the aircraft slide open. An Army officer carrying a duffel bag hopped out, then turned behind him to help what looked like a swimsuit supermodel in high heels step down onto the deck. The sailors, having been stationed in the eastern Mediterranean for nearly two years, couldn't help staring at the Fuchsia Fox, their loins tightening pleasantly at the sight of the beautiful superheroine's traffic-stopping legs, not to mention the eye-catching halter top and briefs which caressed the sweet contours of her exquisite body.

"I'm Commander Davis," the exec said, moving to greet the pair. Martin snapped off a salute, which he returned. "Welcome aboard the Chamberlain. Sunset is at 7:25, moonrise isn't until 9:15, so we've got time to kill. Have you eaten?"

"Thank you, sir," said Martin, "but I'd better check over the Hedgetrimmers first."

"Very good," the navy officer said, turning his attention to the Fox. "Come with me, miss. Let's get you forward to the wardroom. You can wait there until it's time to go."

"What's the rush?" said Jennifer, after drawing in a lungful of fresh air. "Do you think the terrorists are spying on us way out here?" After the last twelve hours in the cramped confines of a succession of military aircraft, what she wanted was to enjoy the freedom to stretch her legs a bit and enjoy the sea breeze in her hair. Stretching her long, lean torso in a luxurious yawn, the stunning supergirl leaned against the nearby railing, looking out across the ocean at the sunset.

"Uh... actually, miss," Commander Davis said uncomfortably, "the captain thought you'd be too distracting for the men."

The Fox turned. In just the few minutes she had been on deck, a respectable mob of sex-starved sailors had already appeared, lining the railings and gawking at her smooth, spandex-sheathed curves. Someone made a wolf whistle. "Oh. Sorry," the superheroine said, smiling shyly as she brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.

Before being shunted to the wardroom, the Fox insisted on taking a shower, with Commander Davis personally standing guard at the door to the head, struggling not to look at her tantalizingly female silhouette through the frosted glass of the shower stall. Afterward, she was given a diagram of the fortress to familiarize herself with the layout, then pretty much left to herself. But the Fox felt restless. Once again she came back to the question of what was going on with her bracelets of Ishtar. She had hoped that it was only a temporary glitch, but weeks had gone by now and she still couldn't remove them. Of course there were unexpected advantages to it as she had discovered in the subway station, but it still had her worried. Jennifer had tried over and over again to contact Ishtar, but the Zumerian space commander was remaining aloof.

Drawing her lissome legs up into a crosswise position in her chair, the superheroine closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. "Mother?" she thought desperately. "Are you out there? Mother, please! I really need you to talk to me." But wherever Ishtar was, she was not responding.

***

At nine thirty the Fox was out on deck again, looking apprehensively at the distant shore while the men bustled around in the dark making preparations. Behind her, she suddenly felt a man's hands tugging at the waistband of her tight little pants! The sexy young heroine gave a slight gasp of surprise as impertinent fingers slipped inside her briefs, making warm, erotic contact with her smooth bare butt cheeks.

"Don't get excited," Martin said with a sly grin, letting her pants snap back against her pert tail. "It's only a GPS locator so we can keep track of you. If you stray off course, I can put you right with this." He was holding up a small earpiece. "It doesn't allow you to talk back, I'm afraid, but you can acknowledge by tapping on the case." Martin parted her hair back from her right ear and set the receiver in place, touching her bare shoulders and neck rather more tenderly and intimately than he absolutely needed to.

There hadn't been much opportunity during the plane trip for the two of them to talk privately, and now, with his body so close to hers in her skimpy costume, Jennifer felt an unexpected wave of arousal that made her bite her lip. Her skin was tingling, her blood singing. Her nipples were rising, making tiny bumps through the fabric of her halter top. Her pussy felt moist with longing for him. It took an effort of will to keep her knees from trembling.

"Is that good for you?" she heard Martin say, seemingly from a long ways off. "I mean does the receiver feel secure?"

"Oh," Jennifer replied, a little flustered. "Yes. Yes, it's fine. Good. Well... wish me luck."

And then she was off, soaring into the sky toward the shoreline, the cool night air on her hot skin bringing her back to reality. Soon she was flying over the moonlit desert, searching for the landmarks she had been told to follow. The formation of six Hedgetrimmer drones joined her, each one looking like a miniature helicopter about four feet long. The hum of their engines was soft and comforting as they flew together through the night. Every now and then she caught a glint of moonlight off the lens of one their cameras, and she knew that Martin was at the controls, watching her. Somehow it made her feel safe.

"That's the lake coming up now," Martin's voice said in her earpiece. Up ahead the Fox saw a body of water, with the lights of a city on the far shore, a darker cubical shape off to one side which marked the position of the fortress.

"OK, I see it," the Fox said, banking to the left while the drones continued on course.

Martin lowered his voice slightly. "Good luck, Angel." Jennifer felt a surge of affection. He couldn't say out loud that he loved her, not with half the U.S. Navy listening in. But this was the next best thing.

Making a wide arc out to the west, the superheroine approached the citadel from the north. Skimming low over the rooftops of the town, she made for the watchtower on this side, where she could see an armed sentry in a brown robe and turban. In the dark, the Fox's reddish purple costume blended in rather well. It was only her white skin (and rather a lot of it showing) which might give her away.

Nevertheless she hit the guard before he saw her coming, knocking him out with two swift punches. The Fox tossed his rifle and walkie-talkie away over the wall, then turned her attention toward the side overlooking the inner courtyard several meters below. All seemed quiet. She tapped the earpiece to let Martin know she was in position.

On the far end of the courtyard were two big wooden iron-bound doors. With the dull sound of heavy locks being turned, the door on the left was thrown open, sending a spray of light streaming across the flagstones. Three armed men came strolling out. Apparently in no hurry to go anywhere, they just stood there casually talking in Arabic. Just as the Fox was wondering how she was going to get past them, she heard the sudden popping sound of minirockets exploding not far away. Martin's drones were attacking the south end of the fortress!

As the men ran back inside, the spunky superheroine followed them into a wide corridor. Ahead she could hear shouts and running feet. The Fox turned right at an intersection, then ran down several steps. A wild-eyed man appeared in front of her leveling an automatic rifle. At the sight of the gorgeous girl's stunningly underclad body, he froze on the spot, giving her ample time to snatch his gun away and club him on the chin with it.

The next room was divided into four cells by grilles of iron latticework. Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Lawton and Khouri, the two men she had come for, sitting in one of the cells with their hands tied behind their backs. "Hang on a minute," she told them. "I'll have you out of there in a jiffy." The alluring young heroine let her hands run for a moment over the thick iron slats that made up the door, trying to judge their thickness. Then, getting a firm grip, she yanked the door completely off its hinges with one powerful wrench.

"Good God!" gasped Lawton, scarcely believing his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Fuchsia Fox," Jennifer explained, dashing into the cell and snapping his ropes like string. "Don't worry. This is a rescue." She turned to Khouri, the CIA agent, and dealt with his ropes as well. "Follow me. If we can get to the courtyard, we should be fine."

The Fox led them back up the steps, listening out for any sign of pursuit. As she stepped out into the courtyard, however, something heavy and studded with spikes suddenly whizzed through the air, missing her by only a fraction of an inch as it embedded itself in the wall, smashing a big hole in the brick and mortar! It was Manticore, drawing back his spiked tail for another shot as he grinned down at her from his six foot five height!

Jennifer gasped. He looked bigger in person than he had on the video. His skin seemed about the texture of elephant hide. Nevertheless, without hesitation the spunky superheroine spun around with a flying kick at the most vulnerable spot she could see -- his face. The giant tumbled backward with the imprint of a high heeled boot across his forehead.

In that short space of time, however, ten more members of ORCUS had swarmed her from all sides. The Fox felt two men grab her arms on either side. She yanked herself free, elbowing the one on the right. Their places were instantly taken by two more assailants, grabbing her arms, a third snaking his hands around her curvy waist to restrain her, his hands sliding on the silken skin of her bare midriff. Before she could shrug them off, Lawton and Khouri were also taken, guns pointed at their chests and a short, broad-bladed scimitar held to Khouri's throat.

Jennifer hesitated in dismay, allowing her attackers to tighten their grips around her flawless form. She was fast, but she wasn't that fast. "Hold your fire," the Fox said quickly. "I surrender. You've got me." She stopped struggling, yielding as the men captured her, eagerly taking possession of her defenseless, scantily-clad body.

Very much up to your usual high quality...and never enough.

You're too kind. Flirty too of course. I realize that chapters two and three weren't exactly balls of fire, but the next installment will be, when the Fox goes up against Manticore with all of America watching! I'm having some technical difficulties today, but I plan to post it Thursday or Friday.

[I'm only going to post chapter 4 today. Look for chapter 5 Monday or Tuesday, and the 6th and final chapter probably next Thursday or Friday.]

Chapter 4 --

Manticore got to his feet, glaring at the Fuchsia Fox as if he wanted to rip her head off. But he was interrupted in this ambition by the incongruous sound of a telephone ringtone. The big man reached into the pocket of his khaki trousers and pulled out a cell phone. "Yes, Master," he grunted. "They took the bait just as you predicted." Listening to the reply, he looked down at the captive superheroine, his lips twisted in disgust. "They sent a woman."

He listened again, a grim smile appearing on his face. "As you wish, master," he said, folding the cell phone and putting it away. "The Master wants the female," he snapped to the guards. "Take her!"

The Master. That had to be Nibiru. This suggested a new strategy to the Fox. If she was brought before their leader, she could quickly dispatch her guards and take him hostage. The shoe would be on the other foot then, and with their apparent utter disregard for women, they would never expect it.

Two of the biggest men roughly grabbed the Fox's slender arms and took her back through the fortress. She went along with them, making no effort to escape. The other eight jammed the corridor behind them, chattering excitedly in their native tongue as they ogled the girl's lithe bare legs, her trim waist and her tempting little booty. Manticore brought up the rear, herding Lawton and Khouri in front of him.

They came out into a much larger courtyard of bare earth and sand under the wide-open night sky. A huge beduoin tent was pitched to one side, flying the black and white flags of ORCUS, its thick cloth rustling slightly in the breeze. Further over was a small wooden platform where Nibiru himself was standing. Parked nearby was a vehicle which brought a frown of concern to the Fox's brown eyes -- it was a military satellite communications van, with its transmitting antenna aimed at the sky! Two technicians in dusty brown robes were manning a video camera and lights mounted on tripods.

"The West are children and fear to face us like men!" Nibiru was saying, facing the camera. "They are weak and cowardly! So cowardly that they send a feeble, insignificant woman to do their work for them! Behold..."

Jennifer flinched a little as the camera turned toward HER! They were broadcasting this over a satellite? An icy shiver of terror trickled down her spine as she thought of the times ORCUS had televised executions! For a second the Fox felt like a frightened little girl, frozen and unable to move a muscle!

Lawton and Khouri were marched up to the platform with Nibiru and made to sit on their knees. Forty or fifty men poured into the courtyard from the far side, lining the edges of the open space as if they had come to watch a sporting event! The two men holding the Fox prisoner laughed derisively and began to drag her forward. The alluring superlady rebelled irritably. Snatching her arms proudly out of their grasp, she boldly strode into the arena, her hips swaying sensually.

"This immodestly-dressed American harlot," Nibiru said, "dared to affront us, thinking that she had a prayer of standing against our might! This cannot go unpunished! We will now demonstrate how wrong she was, and how wrong the Great Satan is to oppose us! Behold... Manticore!"

The crowds around the courtyard cheered as the big brute followed the Fox into the arena.

"Watch now and tremble," the cult leader said, "as Manticore rips this feeble whore apart with his bare hands!"

Manticore scowled at the superheroine's nubile, sylph-like body. "I will try to end this quickly," he said with a sneer. "This is beneath my dignity... humbling a defenseless female." Suddenly he lunged at her like a bull. As the crowd cheered, the spunky superheroine spun around, nimbly eluding his grasp and bringing one flawless leg up in a powerful kick to the side of his ribcage. The giant let out a grunt and fell like a log.

"I know what you mean, sport," the Fox smirked, planting her hands on her shapely hips. "It's kind of a let-down for me, too, fighting some wimp whose chest measurements are bigger than his sperm count."

Stung by the gibe, Manticore charged again. The cocky young heroine leaped gracefully over his head, but the terrorist flexed his knees and jumped with surprising speed in a person so big. His beefy hand latched around the Fox's exquisite ankle, plucking the girl from the sky and throwing her to the sandy ground. The lissome superlady scrambled instantly to her feet, blocking one punch, blocking a second, then... WHAM! She had forgotten his stupid tail!

The Fox's invisible force shield protected her from the spikes, but the impact alone knocked the slender girl off her feet. Manticore jumped her from behind before she could fully get up, his left arm grappling with her lean waist, holding her prisoner while his other hand kneaded and fondled her two pliant young breasts. The heroine fought down a wave of unwanted arousal at being manhandled this way, her body feeling slick with perspiration. She struggled desperately, almost pulling his arm free from her waist, but he tightened his grip, seeming every bit as strong as she was!

"Will you beg me for mercy now, messenger of Satan?" the terrorist growled, his hand moving downward along the smooth curve of her belly and in between her creamy thighs. As his fingers groped at the Fox's succulent snatch, he nodded toward the camera, still broadcasting their battle to news networks all over the globe. "Will you offer to suck my cock? Or do I tear off this flimsy excuse for clothing?"

"Not today, pumpkin," the Fox glowered. Suddenly she felt a fresh surge of strength flood her silken body. With a mighty wrench, she broke free of his wrestling hold. Manticore pivoted to the left, swinging his tail around, but this time the sassy supergirl ducked, grabbing hold of its spiky end in passing. Planting her high heels firmly in the sand, the Fox picked the terrorist up by his tail and spun him around and around, finally tossing him forty feet across the courtyard. He crashed head-first into the wall with enough force to shatter the ancient brickwork.

As Manticore began to stagger to his feet, the Fox pounced, her dainty fist smacking into his lantern jaw with the force of a battering ram. He raised one arm in a groggy attempt at a counter-blow, but the heroine hit him again and again, punching skin that felt as tough as a rhino's.

The cheering abruptly ceased as he dropped. The spectators were now muttering among themselves at the sight of their champion defeated -- and by a mere woman! With a single bound the Fox leaped across the courtyard and onto the platform where Nibiru and the two hostages had been left totally unguarded. The technician at the video camera, showing remarkable presence of mind, swiveled it around so that he could continue to follow the action.

At this point the superheroine could have grabbed the two men and flown away before anyone had a prayer of stopping her. Instead she turned toward the tall cult leader and seized the front of his black and white robe. "Looks like your big, bad bodyguard got himself good and skunked," the Fox said smugly, looking into his dark eyes. "Remember this next time you think about threatening the West, or I'll be back."

Far from being abashed, Nibiru smiled coldly. "This is assuredly a day to remember, heroine. But you are not going anywhere." With both hands he reached out and grabbed Jennifer on either side of her torso, on her ribs just beneath the gentle swell of her breasts.

His hands were ice cold! The Fox shivered as a bone-chilling wave of cold rippled through her flesh, raising goose-bumps. She did not like it at all! Letting go of Nibiru's robe, she clasped his forearms, trying to pry him off of her. His grip was surprisingly strong. The young heroine managed to break his hold, only to have him catch her left arm and twist it behind her back. His free hand latched itself to her chest again like a leech.

"N-no!" the Fox gasped, her lungs suddenly struggling for breath. "L-let me go!" The gallant girl was appalled at how weak she felt. The cold penetrated deep into the core of her body, to her very heart. Jennifer tried to reinforce her force shield, but it made no difference. She felt numb all over, as if she were smothering in icy fog. She tried to kick, but her supple legs were shaking with weakness.

"What is wrong, girl?" her attacker said silkily. "Where is your arrogance now?" Pinning both arms behind her, he shifted his free hand, this time capturing her right breast full-on. The nubile young superheroine groaned submissively, her nipples rising as amazingly strong fingers squeezed the soft, yielding flesh of her boob. A shadow passed across her eyes; she felt on the verge of fainting.

"F-feel... s-so weak," the Fox panted, suppressing a shuddery moan. "What are you... doing... to me?" The sensation of numbness was no longer unpleasant. On the contrary, it was rather nice, almost erotic, making her body quiver, her womanhood grow moist with arousal. She wanted more... she wanted to surrender to it...

"I am draining away all of your strength, daughter of Ishtar," Nibiru said, his left hand moving over to take possession of both of her tits. His eyes rolled back in his head with ecstasy as he feasted on her. "That is what power vampires do."

The Fox collapsed helplessly into his arms as the last of her strength ebbed away. Sated, he let the defeated heroine fall to the platform. With swift movements, he unfastened her skimpy fuchsia halter top and removed it. Lying semi-conscious, the Fox feebly clutched her arms around her naked coconuts as her conqueror strode to the video camera and held her costume up so that its fox-head emblem was clearly visible.

"Death to the West!" Nibiru said. And then, with an imperious gesture, he had the technician cut off the video feed.

In Washington D.C., Keri Keller sat at the anchor desk frozen with shock for the space of approximately ten seconds. "Well that's the end of..." she stammered. "I mean... you saw it happen, ladies and gentlemen. As impossible as it seems, uh... it looks as if the Fuchsia Fox has been... er... has been captured by the cult of ORCUS. The Fox of course, first making her appearance here in Washington f-four years ago..." The reporter's head was spinning with distress. She was more grateful than she could say as she read the next words off the teleprompter. "... Channel 3 will have more on this breaking story at our six o'clock newscast. This is Keri Keller for Channel 3 Action News."

Can hardly wait for what comes next. Very, very entertaining!

bobcashman wrote:Can hardly wait for what comes next. Very, very entertaining!

Thanks Bob. It gets better!

Chapter 5 --

In the Communications Center of the Chamberlain, Martin Fletcher felt as if someone had just kicked him in the balls. Two of the Hedgetrimmer drones had been shot down during the diversionary attack. The other four having expelled all their minirockets, he had pulled them back, keeping one parked unobtrusively on top of the citadel's wall so that they could see what was going on within the courtyard. He, Commander Davis, and a petty officer could only watch as Nibiru picked up the helpless Fuchsia Fox like a doll, slung her lissome body over his shoulder, and carried her off to his tent.

Commander Davis frowned at the picture on the monitor screen. "What happened?"

"How could we have ever suspected that Nibiru was a vampire?" Martin said dully. "Listen, Commander, we've got to mount a rescue. We can't just leave her like that..."

"I feel as badly about that as you do, Fletcher," said Davis. (Wanna bet? Martin thought miserably.) "But she volunteered; she knew the risks. We couldn't get authorization to rescue our own CIA agent. I'm afraid she's on her own."

"But... but at least we could--" He broke off when he saw that Davis wasn't listening. Literally. He and the petty officer were frozen like statues. Martin waved a hand in front of the commander's face. He didn't blink. Hell, he didn't look like he was even breathing!

"Over here, Fletcher," said a woman's voice impatiently. A breath-takingly gorgeous brunette, apparently around 40, was now standing on his other side, dressed in a sapphire blue body suit with a small triangular fox-head emblem over her left breast. "The others are in a slow-time envelope -- a little trick I picked up since the last time I saw you."

"Ishtar!" Martin blurted. "So help me I'm glad to see you for once! You've got to rescue Jennifer! And don't give me any of that non-interference crap! She's your--"

"It's not that simple!" the Zumerian snapped. "Try and get this through that primitive skull of yours. Nibiru is NOT a human being; he is a parasite, an incredibly dangerous creature who was imprisoned here over 2,000 of your years ago. I don't know how he escaped, but he has absorbed all of Jennifer's powers -- her strength, her force shield, everything. If I were to go blundering in there, he could easily take my powers away from me as well, and we'd BOTH be helpless! Is that what you want?"

Martin had nothing to say to that, although the idea of his insufferably arrogant mother-in-law rendered powerless and tied up (and preferably gagged) was remarkably appealing, provided that Jennifer was safe...

"We have to proceed with caution," Ishtar continued, "or he could end up conquering your entire planet! So try not to do anything stupid. Just be ready to reach out to Jennifer when the time comes."

Martin said sulkily, "Reach out to her? What do you mean reach--?" But Ishtar was gone. Damn her!

"What was that you were saying, Fletcher?" said Commander Davis, emerging from slow time.

"Nothing, sir. Just clearing my throat."

***

Jennifer stirred weakly. Her body seemed to be floating on a soft, puffy cloud. She remembered being picked up, carried over Nibiru's shoulder, his hands (warm now with strength he had stolen from her) caressing her bare legs and patting her upthrust tail, so completely defenseless in that position. She remembered being taken through some sort of veil and into a different place altogether, warm and bright like Heaven. And then she had been dropped onto this fluffy, nebulous surface, sucked dry and helpless.

Looking around her now, she could see that the brightness came from four equally spaced electric lanterns, their glow reflected off the inside of the tent. The soft surface she was lying on was a carpet covered with a pile of silk pillows.

"Let me kill her, Master," Manticore was saying. The two men stood over the Fox, looking down at her disdainfully as if she were nothing. Powerless, all too aware that she was bare from the waist up, the captured superheroine quickly cupped her hands over her naked little B-cups. Her halter top was hanging from a peg on one of the tent poles like a trophy.

"We do not murder women, Abu," Nibiru replied, "when we can hump them. This one I am keeping for my own use. If you wish to kill someone, kill the two Americans. They are of no use to us."

The Fox gasped in impotent horror as Manticore bowed and made to depart, but Nibiru stopped him. "Execute them at one o'clock," he said with a cold smile, "just in time for the six o'clock news in America. Our little friend here will carry your sword for you."

"I'll never help you!" the defenseless superheroine blustered, but the men ignored her as they would a child.

"I had hoped that they would send Wonder Woman or Supergirl," Nibiru said, after Manticore had left them alone. "But I cannot tell you how delighted I was when I saw your chest emblem, daughter of Ishtar."

"How do you know Ishtar?" Jennifer said, taken aback.

"Two thousand, two hundred and eighty-five years ago," the man said, "Ishtar imprisoned me under the altarpiece of the Temple of Baal." He held his arms wide, showing off his body. "These ORCUS fools blew it apart with... C-4, I believe they call it. How convenient it was to have a ready-made army of fanatics on hand that I could take control over."

His robe dropped, revealing his naked body, rather scrawny by the standards of the West, but still possessing enough muscle to dominate a frail girl. In between his legs, his cock was already hard. Jennifer's cheeks flushed as she stared at it aghast, beginning to feel frightened.

"And now, daughter of my old enemy," Nibiru said, "I will enjoy mounting you." Without another word, he jumped her.

"NO! Don't touch me, you freak!" The Fox tried desperately to fight, but she was weak and he had all of her strength. He seized each slim ankle in turn, yanked off her high heeled boots, and tossed them aside as if they were of no further interest. Then he tore off her elbow length gloves, leaving her bracelets in place.

"Get your hands off of me!" The heroine kicked and flailed, but her ineffectual feminine struggles were futile as Nibiru pinioned her easily, grabbing her skimpy pants and peeling them off, undressing her effortlessly as if she were a doll. As she fought back tears of helplessness, her attacker threw the nubile girl onto her back, balled up her panties and thrust them into her mouth like a gag. Jennifer's pert nose was filled with the musky scent of her own vaginal juices as her attacker loomed above her, holding her down by her wrists while he examined her naked body. The Fox could only squirm and wriggle impotently underneath him as her tender bare flesh -- pale white in the places her costume usually covered -- rubbed tantalizingly against those exquisite silk pillows.

"Tan lines," Nibiru said disapprovingly. "When you are dressed in a burka like a proper woman, those unsightly blemishes will fade. In the meantime, they are no impediment to my enjoying you."

Letting go of her wrists, he seized the Fox's slender waist and flipped her over, face down. "No! No..." she mewled, fighting in vain. "Please... please don't..." With her face and breasts squashed against the pillows, the gallant girl felt even more helpless than ever as his cool hands grabbed her hips and lifted her caboose in the air. The numbing sensation of his touch penetrated to the core of her body, draining her strength, sapping her very will to resist. Her thighs were roughly spread apart, an alien hand insinuated in between them, fingers caressing her tender, vulnerable slit.

Oooooohhhhh! Yesss! The unexpected wave of lust took her by surprise, filling her senses, overpowering all hope of resistance. Deep inside, part of her knew that this was wrong, but that part was submerged by the vampire's hypnotic spell. Her nerve endings as well as her body felt as if they were laid bare. She could feel his body on top, holding her in subjection. She could feel the head of his rock-hard cock, sliding along her moist labia, searching for her juicy opening. Unnnnn! She was sweating all over with lust. Without her willing it, her body responded all on its own, pushing her tail upward, willingly presenting her succulent, neatly trimmed pussy.

"I am going to enter you from behind," Nibiru said, grabbing a handful of her hair and painfully yanking her head back, "like an animal, because that is all you deserve. You are nothing but a dirty, sinful pussy, fit only for a man's pleasure. Understand?"

Jennifer nodded, too breathless with helpless sexual arousal to even speak, and under the spell of his touch, she believed it! The next thing she knew, his rod had slid inside her, and she stopped thinking entirely, only experienced the bliss of his powerful masculine member, taking her, dominating her, using her like the sinful thing that she really was...

When it was over, Jennifer lay exhausted. Nibiru turned over on his side facing away from her.

Suddenly: "Fox? Can you hear me, Fox?" It was a very faint, tinny little voice, seeming to come from nowhere. "Listen to me. I don't know if you can hear me, but you've got to hang on. Tap the case if you hear me. Can you do that? Can you do it for me? Fox?"

The voice was coming from her right ear! Jennifer pulled out the little earpiece, staring at it without recognition. Whatever this tinny little voice was, it irritated her. She took one of the lamps and crushed the little thing. Then she snuggled against her captor's back. Her body belonged to the Master now...

Chapter 6 --


In the middle of the six o'clock news, a story on a new recycling program was cut short and returned to the studio, where an inset screen over Keri Keller's left shoulder bore the title: "Fuchsia Fox Captured by ORCUS?"

"Following our lead story tonight," said the beautiful redhead breathlessly, "the ORCUS terrorist group has just released another video message." She paused to lick her lips. The network was estimating over 20 million viewers tuning in live, and that wasn't counting those watching over the Internet. "What you are about to see is on a ten second delay, in case it becomes too graphic..."

It was the same courtyard, the same bedouin tent in the background. The camera was focused on a wooden platform now, where two male hostages in Western clothing could be seen on their knees, their hands tied behind them. The big, burly, lion-maned terrorist known as Manticore stood behind them with his arms folded. The camera panned slightly toward the tent entrance as the slender figure of a woman emerged, her head bowed meekly in submission. Her body was completely covered by a shapeless white linen burka allowing only the tiniest glimpse of small bare feet as she walked. Her face was hidden by a veil showing only a pair of brown eyes.

"I... I suppose that could be the Fox," Keri said shakily. "It's hard to tell from here. But... but what is that she's carrying?" The redhead gasped. It was a sword! The girl was carrying a broad-bladed executioner's sword by its hilt, the point downward and almost dragging in the sand because it was too heavy for a woman. She carried it to the platform, where Manticore snatched it from her with a look of disdain.

On board the Chamberlain, Martin Fletcher, Commander Davis, and half a dozen crewmen were jammed into the Comm Center, watching the ORCUS satellite feed on one monitor screen, alongside a wider-angle view from the Hedgetrimmer drone which was still parked unobtrusively on top of the wall. Fletcher had no doubt that the girl under that veil was Jennifer. But he didn't know what to do. He had tried reaching out to her earlier, when Davis had gone to report to the captain, but with the petty officer beside him, he hadn't been able to speak as freely as he had wanted to. And that had been a bust. The activity light now showed that she was no longer wearing the earpiece, even if it was still working. There had to be something else he could do -- some way to get a message to her that he was still here, rooting for her...

Nibiru made his entrance, cheered on by the forty or fifty men lining the courtyard. "The West will fall!" he announced to the camera, standing beside the FUchsia Fox. "They cannot withstand us! The Devil's Harlot they sent to us in our captive! Stripped of her immodest clothing she will service us!" As the terrorists cheered, he leaned over and said in a low voice intended only for the girl, "Given time, Daughter of Ishtar, your bracelets will regenerate your powers. Know this..." As he spoke, his left hand reached down and grabbed the Fox's naked ass through the thin white linen, causing her to jump with surprise. "... that I will always be within reach, to suck you dry once again."

"Y-yes, Master," the Fox replied subserviently, squirming with humiliation as his hand patted her naked booty as if she were a child. As his fingers squeezed her bare flesh through the burka, she also felt a wave of helplessness that made her body quiver. Helpless she certainly was, deprived of her powers, her costume, even of her identity.

"Now sit, slave!" he said, pushing the girl roughly to her knees as he turned back to face the camera. "As for the men," he said, "we will cut their heads off, as we cut off these two spies!"

Manticore, taking his cue, shoved Khouri over into a nearly prone position. Laying the sword across the prisoner's outstretched neck, he took careful aim. The Fox could only watch in horror, powerless to do anything, as he raised the weapon high, and...

With a whirring sound, the Hedgetrimmer drone suddenly strafed the platform, buzzing like an oversized wasp. Manticore jumped back in alarm. The girl swaddled inside the stuffy confines of the burka merely stared at it spellbound as Nibiru commanded impatiently, "Shoot it down!"

Many of the onlookers opened fire with their Kalashnikovs. For several long minutes the noise of gunfire was ear-splitting as the drone dodged and weaved gallantly around the courtyard, sometimes losing itself against the black sky before returning again and again -- but at last the automatic fire told. It crashed.

The Fox watched it gently smoking. A memory was tugging at her... flying over the moonlit desert like a falcon, free and unencumbered by this stifling outfit, the cool wind on her bare skin... a formation of these very drones surrounding her, escorting her... and a voice in her ear, keeping her on course, keeping her safe... the voice of... "Martin!" the girl gasped out loud in confusion. How could the monster's spell erased her memory of the man she had married -- the only man who had a rightful claim on her body?

Jennifer pushed the voluminous cloth back from her wrists, where two golden bracelets were visible. Without needing to think, she raised her arms over her head, clicking them together... "ISHTAR!" she shouted... And nothing happened! She felt them click hollowly against one another, devoid of power. She tried again, desperate. Nibiru flashed a cold smile in her direction as the heroine's hopes faded to dust...

And then... a luminous cocoon of energy suddenly erupted from the bracelets, engulfing her in its power. The worldwide audience gawked unbelievingly at the satellite image as her burka vanished, leaving the nubile girl stark naked and outlined with a pure white glow. Almost instantly a fuchsia-colored costume appeared around her tempting curves -- briefs to cover her delicious snatch, a halter top with a fox-head emblem to render due modesty to her two stunning little boobs, and of course ankle boots and elbow length gloves.

Nibiru staggered against Manticore as the Bracelets of Ishtar, designed to feed on cosmic energy, sucked all the power he had stolen from the Fuchsia Fox and gave it back to her in one swoop. Feeling weak, there was only one thing the vampire could do. He reached upward with one hand toward Manticore's chest to replentish himself...

"No you don't, sport!" the Fox said, charging in between the two men and knocking them apart. Manticore raised his executioner sword and brought it down on her, but the heroine caught its edge on her left bracelet and shattered the blade. Then she sent a flurry of blows to his lantern chin. Not fully recovered from his earlier head-butt with the wall less than two hours ago, he went out like a light. By that time, Nibiru was on his feet again.

"This time I will not be so gentle with you, bitch," the vampire sneered, rushing toward the stunning young damsel with his hands outstretched. "The tortures I will subject you to will be exquisite in their inventiveness."

The vivid memory of being drained by those cold hands, the humiliation at being taken and used against her will, of begging for mercy and receiving none -- all flashed through the Fox's mind in an instant. She caught his forearms three inches before he touched her stunning chest. "I figure you can't do much if you can't touch me, creep," the spunky superlady smirked, bringing her lissome knee up into his groin with a crunch. "Ooh, did that hurt?"

Nibiru struggled like a wildcat, but this time the shoe was most definitely on the other foot. The Fox kicked out again, hitting him squarely in the solar plexus. As he doubled over, she spun around with a full body kick to his jaw. Keeping the vampire on the defensive, the heroine plowed into him again and again while he struggled desperately to rally, finally flipping his scrawny body over her head and sending him splat into the middle of the arena. Painfully he started to get up, then ran out of steam and flopped back face first into the sand.

"I hate guys who get too handsy," the Fox said, brushing her hands and cocking her shapely hips.

"Look out!" shouted Khouri suddenly. The crowd of ORCUS terrorists who had been watching the battle were leveling their Kalashnikovs at the platform.

"Get behind me!" the Fox told the two Americans, desperately throwing her spectacular body in front of them as the terrorists opened fire. For a long time there was no sound but that of gunfire and the ricochet of bullets off the sassy superheroine's invincible force shield, the two male hostages cowering behind and in between her long, lean legs.

Then the Fox confidently thrust out her arms. Two incredibly thin blue disintegration rays shot out of her bracelets. As they tore apart the very air molecules, Jennifer mentally focused the energy liberated into a fiery red sheath, merging them into a single heat beam of near-volcanic intensity. This beam she directed at the sand in front of the ORCUS crowd's feet, forming a wall of flame. The terrorists screamed and stopped firing, parts of their clothing catching fire.

But then, over their panicked shouts came the heavy thud-thud of approaching helicopters. The Fox looked up as three Navy aircraft appeared in the moonlit sky, coming in for a landing in the courtyard. The first one landed, spilling out a squad of Marines. The two American hostages looked up hopefully and cheered as the terrorists scattered and ran.

"Go ahead," the superheroine said, snapping the ropes binding the men. "I'll be with you in just a second." She turned to face the video camera which was still on its tripod broadcasting. "Hello, there!" she said brightly. "As you can see, the execution didn't quite go the way ORCUS planned." She tilted the camera around to show the Navy helicopters as they landed. "This is the Fuchsia Fox, signing off!"

In Washington, Keri Keller could hardly contain her relief. "Once again for those who missed it, the Fox has escaped from the clutches of ORCUS and apparently rescued two Americans who had been held hostage and scheduled for execution. We're going take you now to a press conference being held by General Hanson at the Pentagon..."

***

During the return plane trip to Washington, with Nibiru and Manticore heavily chained up in the cargo hold for delivery to Fort George Meade, Jennifer sat next to Martin, struggling to communicate through smouldering looks all the things that she yearned to say to him. Somewhere over Italy, a glowing rectangular doorway suddenly appeared in the middle of the aircraft. The crew of the military plane looked on the verge of panic.

The Fox sighed, unbuckling her safety harness. "That's for me, guys." She got up and stepped nonchalantly through the doorway, which immediately vanished.

The superheroine found herself inside the cabin of Ishtar's orbiting starship. Ishtar herself was standing with her back to the entrance, looking gorgeous as usual in her tight, sapphire blue body stocking, her attention apparently absorbed in the display of stars on a wide viewing screen. "Hello mother," Jennifer said coldly, crossing her arms beneath her bust. It had been frustrating enough for these past weeks, wanting to ask her about the bracelets and being ignored like a child. But to find out that Ishtar had known about her being Nibiru's captive and had done nothing to rescue her...

Ishtar turned to face her. Jennifer's expression was stony, certain that her mother was about to give her some lame evasion, some song-and-dance about the Zumerian non-interference directive, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear it.

"You've never asked me about your predecessor," Ishtar said, "the girl who wore the costume and bracelets before you. Her name was Bethshallah. She was beautiful." Jennifer was caught off guard.

"Nibiru captured her," the Zumerian continued, her eyes focused on the dim past, "corrupted her, made her his slave. When I was forced to personally intervene, he made her fight me. It didn't turn out well. I had to... I had to..."

Jennifer's heart softened. Ishtar was as close to tears as she had ever seen her. "Oh, mother... I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago," Ishtar shrugged, seeming to get a hold of herself. "But you can see, can't you... that I couldn't face the possibility of that happening to you, my only daughter? Please tell me you understand--?"

"Oh, mother, I'm so sorry," Jennifer said again, rushing over to put her arm around Ishtar's slender shoulders in a hug.

The Zumerian forced a smile. "In any case, your hairless a--, I mean your young man apparently worked out how to bring you to your senses. I'll have to give him a kiss next time I see him. Well... make that a pat on the back."

Jennifer frowned disapprovingly. "Oh! While I have you here..." she began, holding out her arms.

"Yes, the bracelets," Ishtar sighed, lightly caressing the cool metal adorning her daughter's wrists. "I was afraid this would happen when you got married. You should also have noticed that your power levels have jumped considerably. You can fly faster, you're stronger, you should have more control over the Rod of Anu. It's because you've taken on the responsibilities of a woman, Jennifer. You're no longer a little girl. I suppose you could say they're no longer the 'bracelets of Ishtar' but the 'bracelets of Jennifer'."

"Mother," the girl said tenderly, "to me they'll always be the 'bracelets of Ishtar'. And deep down I'll always be your little girl." The two women hugged, clasped together in an emotional embrace that went on a long time.

Jennifer was the first to break the silence. "Darn, it didn't work," she complained jokingly. "The bracelets are STILL stuck!"

Epilogue-- Three days later--


"And we're back on Good Morning Washington. I'm Keri Keller." The redhead was wearing a short, pale green dress. "Our special guest has been the one and only Fuchsia Fox. Fox, any last comments as we say good-bye?"

The young superheroine, sitting slightly to her right with her classy legs crossed, smiled shyly. "I just want to thank everyone again for all the tweets in support of me while I was... um... having difficulties. It meant a lot to me." Of course there were some less-than-supportive messages, too -- mainly from superheroine fetishists who wanted to see the footage of her being defeated again (and again and again!), but she could let that pass.

"You mean a lot to us, too, Fox," Keri said, leaning over to pat her shapely knee. "And that's all the time we have. See you tomorrow, Washington!" A bell rang, signalling that the microphones were off. "Great show, Fox. Thanks again for being here. And by the way, who is that hottie in the uniform? Are you two an item?"

The Fox glanced at Martin, waiting at the edge of the set in his class B uniform. "Um... he's just an Army liaison. You know, to escort me around for public appearances. Besides, I think he's married."

"Bummer," said Keri. "The good ones always are."

Upon leaving the set, the sexy superheroine was accosted by about a hundred autograph seekers, but when that was over with, she met Martin near the stage door. "OK, where to next?" she sighed, wishing this were all over. Jennifer Fletcher had had to take some sick days from the Smithsonian to accommodate all these publicity appearances...

"Well, you insisted that Keri Keller get the first T.V. exclusive," said Martin, consulting the schedule on his smartphone. "You've got Anderson Cooper at eleven thirty. This afternoon we've got Newsweek and People... and Playboy wants you for a photo shoot..."

"Playboy?" said the Fox with a start. "Hmmm... well... I don't know..." A delicate flush crept up her cheeks as she considered it. Odd how she had never thought of herself as a sex symbol before. She had to admit that it was flattering to be asked, but... What was she thinking? Even if she were tempted, Martin would never let her do it.

"They're offering a lot of money," Martin said, wondering to himself who he was trying to talk into it. Of course it would HOT being married to a Playboy model, even if they didn't ask her to go all the way, but... Nah -- Jenn would never go for it. "I'll just kind of set that one aside for further consideration, shall I?" he said.

The Fox sighed. "Great, almost two hours to kill then. Whatever shall we do to pass the time, Captain Fletcher?"

"I have a suggestion," Martin said. Sidling up closer to her under the pretext of showing her the schedule, he rested his free hand on her tight, round, spandex-clad bottom.

The Fox sighed with contentment as the pressure of his fingers caressed the soft curve of her behind, moving tantalizingly down the valley between her butt cheeks. She felt a flush stealing up her face. And it was more than just the physical sensation that made her pulse quicken and her juices start to flow. She had told him everything of course, laying stress on the way his stunt with the drone had broken her free of Nibiru's mind control, and now Martin seem determined to arm her against any such contingencies in the future. Here in a public place, touching her in secret, asserting his ownership of her in no uncertain terms -- it made her feel incredibly hot for him! After a moment she felt a stronger pressure on her backside, drawing her closer so that she could feel the heat of his body, that telltale bulge in the front of his uniform trousers. Oh God she was getting so wet down there!

Her brown eyes looked submissively up into his. "I'm all yours, Captain Fletcher," she said demurely.


>>>>>>>THE END

Superb story! I had thought that Ishtar was somehow helping to funnel power to the Fox's bracelets when they first failed but I guess not, huh?

DrDominator9 wrote:Superb story! I had thought that Ishtar was somehow helping to funnel power to the Fox's bracelets when they first failed but I guess not, huh?

She certainly could have been. But she was mainly focused on explaining why she couldn't personally intervene.

L-O-V-E-D it!!!!!

Good story.