Fuchsia Fox: "Garden of the Golden Lotus", By Cenurion

[flirty_but_nice]

Fuchsia Fox: "Garden of the Golden Lotus"
By Centurion


Prologue -- Jersey City, New Jersey... four months ago


A black SUV with government plates turned off the street and into an alley. The driver steered the car through a set of open garage doors and down a curving ramp into an underground parking area. It was completely empty except for another black SUV parked at one end, where a man in a dark suit was standing and waiting next to a set of stainless steel elevator doors. As the SUV parked, the two passengers riding in the back seat got out.

"Dr. Frasier, Dr. Litchfield, thank you for coming," said the man in the dark suit, stepping forward and shaking hands with each of them in turn. "I'm Special Agent James Malone. Have you had a chance to look at the photographs I sent to you by messenger?"

"I've studied the photographs, Agent Malone," Frasier said, "and frankly I haven't persuaded myself that this isn't all a huge joke."

"Believe me, doctor," Malone said expressionlessly, "the FBI has better things to do than to joke about something like this. The building we are standing in was up until recently occupied by members of the ORCUS international terrorist organization."

"My God!" said Litchfield, looking around warily. "I heard about that raid on the news."

"The machine I sent you photographs of," the FBI agent continued, "was constructed by them over the course of three years. They called it the Psychotron."

"Of course, in theory," said Litchfield, "by the application of ultrasonic waves, it would be possible to stimulate the frontal lobes of a subject's brain and render him docile and vulnerable to outside suggestion. In my lab at Columbia, we have done experiments of a similar nature on dogs and chimpanzees."

"Are you serious?" said Malone, frowning. "Do you think that it's possible to brainwash a human being with a machine like this?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Frasier said. "It's a far cry from being theoretically possible to being practicable. I would need to see the machine and study its workings." His companion nodded in agreement.

"Which is exactly the reason I asked the two of you to come," Malone said, pressing the call button on the elevator. The stainless-steel doors opened and the three of them stepped in. As the elevator rose to the next level, he continued. "As you saw in the photographs, the machine takes up most of a room. There are six banks of electronic waveguides about two feet wide and seven feet tall, spaced around a chair with heavy restraints. I guess that's where the subject sits. There's also a big control console. Of course, we disconnected the power to the machine. But we didn't want to move it until we were sure of just what we were dealing with. The room has been kept sealed off and the building itself under guard."

"That was wise," Litchfield said, as the elevator stopped and the three men stepped out into a corridor. Malone led the way to a door which was sealed by two strips of yellow tape -- "Police Line, Do Not Cross" -- and by a chain with a keypad lock. Malone punched in his access code and threw open the door, reaching to flick on the light switch. The lights came on.

"My God!" Frasier exclaimed, as the two scientists and the agent stared in disbelief.

The room was absolutely empty!


***


Chapter 1 -- Fairfax County, Virginia


It was a bright, sunny afternoon as Jennifer Fletcher strolled along the covered sidewalk of the shopping center, glancing at her reflection in the store-front windows to admire her haircut. The men passing by her were admiring the attractive curves of Jennifer's lean young body, dressed in tight denim jeans shorts, a loosely draping pink top, and sandals. More than one distracted male had to be yanked back to attention by his wife or girlfriend.

The beauty parlor was a little out-of-the-way between Falls Church and Dunn Loring, but it had been worth the trip. The stylist recommended by one of the girls at work had done a great job on Jennifer's brunette tresses. Now Jennifer was heading toward the Metro station not far away. It wasn't as if she couldn't afford her own car (her husband Martin had even offered to pay for it), but she basically didn't want to be bothered. All the years she had been living in Washington D.C., she had gotten along perfectly well with the mass transit system when she couldn't get where she wanted under her own power, and she saw no reason to change now.

Suddenly she heard a gunshot! The casual passers-by looked around quizzically, but Jennifer quickly zeroed in on the direction the sound had come from -- a pawn shop about fifty yards away up the east side of the shopping center. As they watched, three tough-looking men wearing black jeans, white t-shirts and black leather vests with swastikas burst out of the shop. The trio paused only long enough to finish cramming a wad of money and gold jewelry into a leather satchel, and then all three mounted motorcycles and took off.

The crowd on the sidewalk was still marveling at the robbery as Jennifer quietly slipped away down an alleyway. The moment she was out of sight (and out of range of security cameras), there was a flash of light and her clothing disappeared. Jennifer's flawless body was now dressed in a body-hugging purplish-pink halter top with matching 14-inch miniskirt, ankle boots, and elbow length gloves. The Fuchsia Fox soared silently into the sky and soon caught up with the motorcycles as they sped down the highway, weaving recklessly in and out of traffic.

The stunning superheroine realized that someone could easily get hurt if she intercepted them on the busy highway, so she held back and bided her time as they crossed I-66 and then US-50. And in fact after only five or six miles the bikers took a side road and then pulled into the parking lot of a sleazy-looking roadside tavern.

The second they dismounted, the Fox landed on the gravel in their midst. "Hi, guys!" the heroine said brightly, thrusting out her shapely chest, which was adorned with her famous fox-head emblem. "That was a bad thing you just did."

"No shit, honeypot," one of the men smirked, his eyes fixed on her pert little coconuts. "And we're about to do something worse to YOU." The two bikers on either side reached for the Fox, making a grab her alluring body.

Jennifer spun around in a nimble pirouette, one sleek, silken leg striking out at the first man in the breadbasket while at virtually the same time her elbow smacked into the second man's jaw, knocking him out. They both dropped to the gravel. The third man, the one holding the satchel, ran inside the tavern.

The Fox hurried after him, bursting through the bat-wing doors and taking a few steps before slowing to an abrupt halt. The interior of the tavern was decorated with highway signs. Along the right-hand side was a long bar with a mirror behind it, exactly as you might find in an Old West saloon. Along the opposite wall were a few booths with shabby upholstery. In between were two pool tables, where the man holding the satchel now was.

The Fox had halted because the saloon was full of bikers. There had to be at least twenty, maybe twenty-five, all tough-looking dudes with enough scars and tattoos between them for a whole company of soldiers. Upon closer observation, there appeared to be TWO gangs, the Huns and the Scorpions. The heroine belatedly remembered seeing a lot of motorcycles parked outside, but she had been in such a hurry to catch the robber that she hadn't considered what that implied. Now her heart was pounding inside her lovely chest as she wondered if she might have just bitten off more than she could chew.

Perfect silence had fallen with her arrival, broken only by the clack of a pool cue striking a ball. The Fox could feel the weight of all the men's stares crawling up and down her nubile body, adorned by her skin-tight costume and sassy little miniskirt. She was uncomfortably aware of lustful grins appearing on their faces as they closed in behind her. The few females in the room -- a couple of biker chicks, the girl bartender and the leggy waitress -- simply stared with incredulity.

Well, it was too late to back out now. The Fox boldly strode across the room toward the pool table, her miniskirt swishing seductively against her cute little tush. The object of her search was there, having just handed the satchel with the loot to two of the biggest, meanest-looking men she had seen in a long time. The heroine took them to be the leaders of the two gangs. Both were in the vicinity of six foot eight in height and looked as if they weighed three times as much as she did.

"I'm afraid that's stolen property," the Fox said, planting her hands on her hips. "I'm making a citizen's arrest. Dipstick's going to have to come with me."

The two leaders moved closer to her, one on either side. "What if he don't want to, chick?" said the one on her left, the leader of the Huns. The other one, the Scorpions' leader, gave a nasty laugh through yellowed teeth.

"That's not his option," the Fox said, trying to keep her voice steady. Her pulse was racing. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her nipples swelling under her halter top. She felt a wave of tension pass through the bikers as they got weapons ready -- brass knuckles, knives and chains. The heroine swallowed, beginning to feel that she might have made a huge mistake stepping through those doors.

"Look, guys," she said, "we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way."

"The easy way it is," the leader of the Huns said, as his big hand darted out like a cobra toward the Fox's slender throat.

The heroine sidestepped gracefully, her left hand shooting out to smack him in the chest even while her right hand swept backhand to strike the Scorpions' leader closing in on her other side. At the same time a blackjack swished past her head, rebounding off of her invisible force shield, startling the superheroine. These guys were a lot tougher than the two minions she had met outside.

Even bruised and hurt, the underlings kept coming. As fast as the Fox would smack one or toss one across a table, another would take his place, until the cocky young superheroine began to fear that she was being overwhelmed by their numbers.

Somebody smashed a chair against her head, and although it shattered against her force shield, the impact with the weight of a 280-pound man behind it momentarily threw her off balance. Rough male hands grabbed the Fox's scantily clad young body, groping at her breasts. Before she could react, a chain coiled around her neck, yanking the lissome girl backwards as the bikers picked her up and spread her across the pool table on her butt -- one man pinning down each arm as a third held the chain taut around her swanlike throat so that she couldn't sit up.

"Maybe you ain't as tough as ya think ya are, babe," smirked the leader of the Huns, as his hand slipped up under the Fox's sexy little miniskirt, caressing the satiny smooth flesh of her inner thigh, his touch sending a quiver of unwanted arousal through her moist pussy. "You were saying something about the hard way. After all this, my wanger is hard."

"This is Scorpions' turf, man," protested the other gang leader, giving the superheroine's left boob an amorous squeeze. "I should get first taste of her."

"I think there's enough nookie for both of us," the leader of the Huns said.

"Relax, guys," the Fox said, panting a little from the exertion. "I was just catching my breath."

Confidently the sexy super-girl yanked her left leg upward, but found the motion unexpectedly arrested by a ham-like hand around her ankle, holding her in place. A flutter of dismay swept the Fox's heart as the leader of the Scorpions pulled up her halter top, completely exposing both of her gorgeous coconuts to the view of the gathered bikers. Someone pulled out a cellphone and began to take pictures.

The Fox concentrated to summon her strength and then tried again. This time her glamorous gam broke free and swept across, her boot clocking the Huns' leader in the jaw and knocking him out. At virtually the same time she tore herself from the clutches of the other two men and twisted her lithe body upward, wrapping her exquisite stems around the neck of the biker who was holding the chain. He had about three seconds to enjoy it before the girl had flipped him across the room and sprung to her feet on the pool table, now holding the chain.

"Let's rock and roll," the Fox defiantly said.

The spunky superheroine hit the rest of the gang like a hurricane, sweeping through their ranks with both arms extended, beginning to mow them down like a scythe. Suddenly, though, an iron crowbar smacked her in the back of the head, momentarily causing the superheroine pause, creating an opportunity for two men to grab her arms, wrestling her slender body back against the pool table. Before they could capitalize upon their advantage any further, though, the Fox burst free and hurled them both the length of the tavern. The biker chicks, the waitress and the bartender hid behind the bar for cover as bodies, weapons, tables and chairs flew in all directions. Two minutes later everything fell silent and they risked a peek over the bar.

"Whew!" the Fox said, straightening the hem of her halter top. Unconscious and semi-conscious bikers littered the room. "Could I ask one of you ladies to call the sheriff's department?"


***


Chapter 2 –


As the bikers began to come around, they found the parking lot full of deputies from both Fairfax and Arlington counties, as well as some state police. Sheriff Cameron Poe was holding his smart phone with screen captures from the pawn shop's security camera, comparing faces. The three robbery suspects were identified and taken away in patrol cars along with the bag of goods they had stolen, while the rest of the Huns and the Scorpions were sullenly being marched into a big prison transport bus.

"I appreciate this, Fox," Sheriff Poe drawled. "Half of these guys have outstanding warrants for rape, assault, drug trafficking, grand theft auto, you name it. We can charge them all with disorderly conduct and assault while we get them sorted out."

"I'd be happy to swear out a complaint if that will help, Sheriff," the sexy superheroine said, crossing her arms as she stood by in case any of the bikers made a break for it.

Just then a wine-red sports car pulled up, slinging gravel from its tires. As it jerked to a halt, a beautiful young blonde woman with eyeglasses threw open the door and got out. She was wearing a red short-sleeved top and a short navy-blue skirt. "Fox! Fox, wait up!" the girl called as she hurried over to the superheroine breathlessly, her high heels digging awkwardly into the gravel of the parking lot. Some of the bikers wolf whistled, despite being led away.

"Hi, Dora," said the Fox. "What are you doing here? This is hardly a Federal case." Isadora Porteous was a prosecutor with the Justice Department.

"Hardly," the blonde said, with a nervous glance at the bikers. "I, uh, heard about your little brouhaha on my police radio and I wanted to catch you before you flew away. I sent you a text, but apparently you haven't been checking your messages today."

"So what's up?" the heroine asked.

"I have a sticky little problem," Dora said. "Do you want to get in the car and ride with me?"

"Hang loose, guys," the Fox said, waving good-bye to the sheriff and his deputies as she followed the blonde to her car.

"That's a cute haircut by the way," Dora said, getting behind the wheel. As the superheroine got in the passenger side, she put the car in gear and drove, getting on the Interstate and heading west. She drove for a few miles before speaking again. "Okay, you've heard about the Disciples of the Golden Lotus, right?"

"It doesn't ring a bell," the Fox said, leaning back in her seat.

"Don't you watch the news?" the blonde said with a touch of harshness. "It's one of those cults that ensnares impressionable young people by promising them enlightenment or whatever. But what they call enlightenment turns out to be the cult leader getting his rocks off on the naive young girls. The boys become his bodyguards. They have a compound out near Manassas."

"Okay, that gives me a general picture," the brunette said, noticing that Dora was driving in that direction. "It's sad to see people being exploited, but it's a free country. What do you expect me to do about it? Is the cult doing anything illegal?"

"That's the frustrating part," Dora said, her knuckles tightening on the wheel. "The FBI did surveillance on them for six weeks and found nothing. No stockpiles of weapons or explosives, no evidence of drugs or kidnapping. My superiors said it was a waste of money and pulled the plug."

"You have to give me something, Dora," the Fox said. "I can't just bust into the place and start beating people up for no reason. People look askance at that kind of thing."

"I realize that," the blonde said, biting her lower lip. "The leader calls himself Father Miklos. The name on the deed to the property is Michael Newman. No prior arrests. It has all the earmarks of a fake identity."

"I'm sorry, Dora, but--"

"Listen!" the prosecutor said desperately. "I called in a favor and got Homeland Security to send in an undercover agent. Jill Owens."

"Jill Owens? I know her." The Fox remembered the attractive dark-haired agent who had gone out of her way to help her when she had been plagued by an assassin called the Mind Reaper, over a year ago. "What does she have to say about the place?"

"I don't know," Dora said, turning her sports car abruptly off the interstate. "She reported in just long enough to say that she was quitting her job and joining the cult. She invited me to join too -- of all the cheek!" The blonde paused long enough to let that sink in. Now they were speeding along a gravel secondary road that meandered through wooded country. "I was kind of hoping that you could go in and check up on her."

"How do you suggest I do that?" the Fox asked.

"Well..." Dora said a little slyly, "I thought maybe Gina Sommers might have a hankering to join a cult." The lawyer was referring to the false identity that she believed was the Fox's real name; she wasn't actually aware of Jennifer's true identity.

"Wait a minute," the superheroine protested. "You want me to infiltrate the cult and risk falling victim to the same brainwashing that seems to have already captured Jill?"

"When you put it that way it sounds a little reckless."

"A little reckless? Dora, it sounds insane."

The car had been following a narrow road that wound steadily upward through a range of hills. Abruptly it burst out of the trees high up on a hillside and Dora pulled the car over. The Fox found herself looking across a small valley, where a few miles in the distance she could see a group of white cabins clustered around a two-story structure like a temple.

"So that's the place, eh?" the Fox said, as they got out of the car.

"This is where we had the surveillance van set up," Dora said. The blonde stood in silence for a moment. "Can't you go in and... bust heads just a little bit?" she added impatiently, wistfully remembering the time when she had temporarily possessed the Fox's powers.

The superheroine sighed. "When I was growing up," she said, "my dad taught me that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Why don't I just try asking nicely first? Wait here."

The Fox flexed her graceful legs and launched her lean, lovely body into the sky. Soaring across the valley like a swan, the young heroine made one pass over the compound to get a look at it from the air. There were six cabins arranged around the temple with a paved terrace, from which flower gardens and a swimming pool branched off, surrounded by shrubberies and privacy fences. There was a long, low dining hall to one side, with a few cars and vans parked next to it. The whole thing was surrounded by a chain link fence.

A group of about two dozen people dressed in long white robes and sandals were gathered on the terrace doing some sort of yoga exercises. A few others in robes with their hoods up were walking peacefully in the gardens. None of them looked up as the Fox flew overhead.

Two men were standing guard inside the gate as Jennifer landed in front of them, her tiny miniskirt fluttering tantalizingly around her creamy thighs. One of the men gave her a polite bow. "Welcome to the Garden of the Golden Lotus," he said. "I am Brother Stephen. Have you come seeking the Father's enlightenment?"

Both men were smiling in a way that was rather disconcerting. The Fox was totally surprised to see that they were making eye contact with her, not staring at either her bust or the hem of her skirt as most men did. There were no weapons visible about them, but there was no telling what they might have concealed under their long robes. She quietly activated her force shield just in case.

"Um, actually I've come looking for a friend of mine," the stunning super lady said. "I was told that Jill Owens was a resident here. May I please speak to her?" She felt her gloved hands forming fists, ready to defend herself if they should attack.

"Ah! Sister Jill is an Initiate of the Second Circle," Brother Stephen said, still smiling. "Please come with me."


***


Chapter 3 –


Leaving the other man to watch the gate, Brother Stephen led the Fuchsia Fox up the driveway, which was paved with smooth stones, easy on sandaled feet. On the way they passed a couple of other young people dressed in those long white robes, and Stephen nodded serenely to them in greeting.

"Sister Jill is such a sweet, gentle soul," he said. "I'm glad that she has a friend like you."

"She seems to like this place a lot," the Fox replied, looking around curiously as they mounted the steps to the paved terrace in front of the temple.

"The Garden of the Lotus is an oasis of love in the chaos of the world," Stephen said virtuously.

The Fox nodded absently. "What does it mean to be an initiate of the Second Circle?"

Stephen didn't answer immediately. The yoga exercises the Fox had seen from the air had broken up, leaving only four or five robed figures wandering across the terrace. Stephen led the superheroine to a gap in the shrubbery to the right-hand side. "This way," he said, inviting her to go first.

The Fox stepped through the entrance to a chain link fence enclosure surrounding the swimming pool she had seen earlier. About twenty very attractive young people were occupying the area now, evenly split between male and female. Their sandals and long white robes had been cast aside, leaving their toned, youthful bodies dressed only in short white tunics held up by narrow straps at the shoulders. The material was diaphanous, clinging alluringly to shapely waists and abs but full enough at the skirt to show off shapely bottoms. The draping necklines modestly covered masculine chests and busts alike while leaving seductive glimpses of what lay underneath.

The young people themselves were clearly enjoying themselves. A few were in the pool, swimming or splashing or engaging in sexual horseplay. Others were chasing one another around its edge or reclining on the stone verge, amorously kissing and fondling. A redheaded girl was perched on the edge of the pool with her panties off, her legs splayed wide while she fingered her naked pussy lips right there in front of everyone. On the opposite side of the pool, a gorgeous Adonis was leaning back against the privacy fence on that side, his butt cushioned on his folded robe while a blonde girl was going down on him, moaning as her lips sucked wetly up and down the sides of his stiff shaft. Jennifer couldn't help feeling a little bit aroused at the sight of his thick, magnificent man sausage, throbbing with lust as the girl pumped it with her hand.

"One of the privileges of the Second Circle," Brother Stephen explained, looking over the scene.

"FOX!" Jill Owens looked up from the corner where a man had been kissing and fondling her breasts. The dark-haired girl squirmed free of him and ran excitedly across the terrace, struggling back into her tunic. "I can't believe you're here!" she gushed, throwing her arms around the superheroine's slim shoulders and giving her a hug.

"Jill? Are you alright?" the Fox asked, feeling a little bit stunned. The Jill Owens she knew had been a serious, by-the-book Homeland Security agent.

"I'm AMAZING!" the girl replied, her face flushed with pleasure. "This place is like Paradise! I'm so glad you came! You're going to LOVE it here!"

"Wait a minute, slow down," the superheroine said. "I'm not here to join the cult. Don't you remember you have a job?"

Jill shook her head, still grinning. "Not anymore I don't! I belong here now with Father Miklos!"

The other young people gathered around, excited by the arrival of the sexy superheroine, their eyes roaming appreciatively up and down the Fox's alluring curves. The boldness of their stares made Jennifer feel a bit uncomfortable. Considering the love play they had been involved in, she felt almost as if they were taking off her costume with their eyes. In fact, as they pressed in closer, some of them reached out, lightly and seductively caressing the bare skin of her back and midriff. One bold hand patted her pert little derriere under her skirt.

Moving like a cobra, the Fox seized the wrist and turned on the man responsible. "Don't try that again," she warned, cheeks red, "unless you want to pull back a stump where your hand used to be."

"Oh Fox, you don't get it!" Jill laughed. "Here you don't have to worry about being a prim and proper paragon of virtue. Here you can just let go of your inhibitions and be free to embrace your sexuality, just like all of us!"

"Jill, it's not a question of..." the heroine began in exasperation. "Is there someplace where we can talk in private?"

"By all means," Brother Stephen said. "No one is using the Zen Garden, at the moment. Feel free."

The Fox took Jill's arm and marched the agent through another gap in the hedge and into another enclosure. A path of flat stones wound in between stretches of sand carefully raked into intricate designs. At the far end, next to a small shrine, a miniature waterfall trickled into a pond. Jennifer steered Jill over to it, thinking that the sound of the water would help to prevent them from being overheard, if someone was listening to their conversation.

"Okay, Jill," she whispered. "What can you tell me about this place?"

"I've already told you," the dark-haired girl grinned, not bothering to lower her voice. "I'm so happy that you're here. Wait until you meet Father Miklos. I want you to know the joy of this place as much as I have."

"Isadora Porteous is worried about you," the Fox said.

"Miss Prim and Proper herself!" Jill smirked.

The Fox bit her lip. Little did Jill realize that Dora was a member of the notorious Club X, whose sexual antics made the orgy she had seen at the pool look like Sunday School! The "prim and proper" thing was just an act she assumed so that people wouldn't suspect her secret life.

"I called her and begged her to come," Jill continued. "I suppose she sent you instead. Say... do you think she'd come if the two of us together asked her? That would be so amazing! And if I get three new recruits, they might initiate me into the Third Circle!"

"Is that how you got into the Second Circle, by bringing in another recruit?"

"Well sure," Jill said artlessly. "That's how everyone goes up in status here, by bringing in new recruits."

"Who did you--?"

"Excuse me?" said Brother Stephen timidly from the garden's entrance. "I don't mean to interrupt. But Father Miklos would like to see you now, if it's not too much trouble."


***


Jill and most of the other Initiates of the Second Circle hurriedly put on their robes and sandals so that they could escort the Fox to the temple. They all stopped outside on the terrace, as Brother Stephen led the beautiful super-babe inside. Crossing a small vestibule, Stephen opened the double doors to the sanctuary itself, then gestured for the Fox to go ahead, alone. Screwing up her courage, the Fox boldly walked inside, her long legs whispering like silk, her miniskirt swishing. She heard the double doors close behind her.

It was a roughly square room, lit by lamps and by high stained-glass windows that left it fairly dim. Six tall, flat cabinets were spaced against the left and right walls at regular intervals, something like two feet wide and seven feet high, with silkscreen tapestries on their fronts showing mythical woodland creatures like nymphs, satyrs, dryads, sirens, pixies, elves. In the center of the room, a circular design was inlaid on the floor, indicating where the supplicant was expected to stand. Opposite the entrance was an armchair on a raised dais, on which Father Miklos sat.

He had dark, curly hair, dark eyes, and an aquiline nose. He was dressed in a white shirt and trousers, with a contrasting off-white sleeveless robe over it. A necklace of pearls hung around his neck. Sitting on the dais at his feet were two beautiful girls wearing those skimpy white tunics -- the one on his left holding a silver plate of grapes, and the one on his right holding a silver cup.

"You are the Fuchsia Fox," he said, smiling. "It is an honor to meet you. I have heard so much." He took the cup from the girl on his right and drank. "You may sit if you like."

The Fox glanced around her. There was no chair. Obviously she was expected to sit on the floor, or perhaps on her knees.

"No thank you," the superheroine said coolly, looking straight into those dark eyes of his. "I'd like to ask you what you have done to Jill Owens, but I doubt if I would get a straight answer."

"I have done nothing to Sister Jill," Miklos replied, handing the cup back to his servant, "except open her mind. I have freed her from the petty conventionalities of a patriarchal society. I have broken the inhibitions that held her prisoner. Like those that hold YOU prisoner still."

"You've got it wrong," the Fox said. "I'm not held prisoner by anything." Even as she said those words, Jennifer felt a curious tension in the air, almost humming. Miklos' dark eyes were still locked with hers, looking straight into her. She felt an odd tingling in her spine. Suddenly she heard someone behind her, whispering. Her brown eyes darted suspiciously to her left, seized by a subliminal conviction that the nymph painted on that cabinet was snickering at her. But it was just a tapestry.

"I can see the chains that bind you hand and foot," Father Miklos said, his voice calm and methodical. "I can see it in your aura. I can see it in the way you dress, in the way you walk, in the way you act, in the way you constantly thrust yourself into physical conflict with men."

A crawling sensation seemed to ripple over the Fox's silken skin. The pixies on another cabinet were whispering slyly about the way she was dressed -- she was sure of it. The satyrs were leering at her pert tush, wondering aloud if she had ever been fucked from behind by a goat. The dryads were openly scoffing: "Wood, wood. What you want is HARD wood..." The sirens were humming seductive songs of the kind that used to lure sailors to their deaths.

Satyrs, nymphs, sirens -- creatures of myth associated with wild nature, with raw, uninhibited sex. Jennifer raised her gloved hands to her head, pressing her skull bones. They couldn't be real! Was she going out of her mind?

"You have a need to be dominated," Father Miklos said. "Secretly you WANT to be dominated by a man. You long for the day that one will prove powerful enough to defeat you, to overpower you, to give you what you need."

"No," the Fox gasped, as a mental image of joining the orgy by the pool suddenly flashed into her mind, making her coosh wet with pleasure. "You... you have no idea what I need." But her knees felt weak and wobbly. The whispered sounds seemed to be synchronized now, coming at her from every direction, boring into her brain in ultrasonic waves. If she didn't sit down soon, she was going to fall down.

"Release your inhibitions, girl," Miklos said softly. "Take off your halter top and surrender it to me, as a symbolic gesture of freedom. Take it off now."

The two girls kneeling at his feet echoed his command -- "Take it off. Take it off now."

"Yes," the superheroine whispered. "Take it off..." She wanted to obey him. She wanted to put on one of those diaphanous tunics instead. Part of her could see it clearly -- it was what she needed to do. Trembling fingers reached behind her, fumbling with the clasp of her top...

"Take it off. Take it off now," the two slave girls chanted.

"NO!" the Fox said, seeming to snatch herself out of a dream. Shaking her head, the brunette turned and bolted for the door. Crashing through the double doors into the vestibule, she continued outside onto the terrace, breathing deeply in order to clear her head. A group of about forty initiates were crowded around in those long white robes, awaiting her appearance. Jill was right there in front, beaming expectantly.

Jennifer couldn't face them. Flexing her knees, she zoomed straight up into the sky and vanished.


***


Chapter 4 –


"Fox? What happened?" Isadora Porteous gasped, as the fuchsia-clad superheroine landed on the hillside in front of her. "Did you see Jill? Did you get to speak to her?"

"Yes, I did," the Fuchsia Fox said, somewhat unsteadily. "But I--" The words that she was going to say sort of trailed off into nothing. Whatever she had felt inside the temple was fading away like a dream now. She couldn't be sure exactly what had happened, whether it was some kind of drug or some kind of psychic influence. Whatever it was, she felt fine now, though.

"Talk to me, Fox!" Dora said angrily. "Don't keep me in suspense. Do you have some kind of plan to rescue Jill?"

"Working on it," the young heroine said, flashing the lawyer a smile. "Don't worry. I owe Jill Owens big time. I'm not going to leave her there. For right now, why don't we just get back to the city?"

Twenty minutes later, Jennifer was inside her Arlington apartment, her bracelets of Ishtar on her dresser, changed from her costume into a pink t-shirt and a pair of baggy, loose-fitting plaid lounge pants. Curled up on the sofa with her laptop, she spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to find out what she could about the cult, but was drawing a blank.

At six o'clock, she fixed dinner to have it ready when her husband got home. As they ate together, Martin listened while she filled him in on everything that had happened. Of course he already knew all about the debt Jenn owed to Jill Owens, because of the way the Homeland Security agent had helped them to locate the Mind Reaper all those months ago.

"I don't suppose this Father Miklos could actually be the Reaper?" Martin asked, "back with a new bag of tricks? It sounds like his style."

Jenn shook her head. "We all saw him without his mask, remember? Anyway, I would remember those eyes of his."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Well... I'm just waiting until it gets dark. I thought I'd slip into the compound and investigate that temple more closely while no one was there. If I don't find out anything, I could just grab Jill and abduct her. Maybe it has something to do with proximity. If I get her far enough away, maybe she'll return to normal and she can tell us what happened."

"I've heard better plans," Martin admitted. "But at least it's fluid. Do you want me to round up some cavalry, in case you need backup?" They both knew that he was talking about Barbara Wright and Oscar Jenkins, two fellow soldiers and intimate friends of theirs.

Jennifer thought about it, then she sighed. "I still don't have any proof that anything illegal is going on. I can't ask Barbara and Oscar to drop everything just on the off chance that I might need them."

Martin shrugged as he gathered up their empty plates and carried them across to the kitchen sink. "It's seven o'clock on an August evening," he said. "What can we do to keep us busy until dark?"

Jennifer strolled over to join him at the sink, the drawstring waist of her loose lounge pants riding low on her wide hips, her pink toes peeking out shyly from below their drooping legs. "I'm sure that if you put your mind to it," she said seductively, "you can think of something."

"Maybe I can," Martin said, licking his lips as he looked at his beautiful wife, from her tousled brunette tresses to her clingy pink t-shirt, to her lounge pants. Taking hold of the drawstring, he gave the slipknot a slow tug until it came undone, letting the baggy garment slide down her long, silken legs to pool around her ankles. The tail of her t-shirt barely came to her cleft, revealing that she wasn't wearing any panties underneath it. Her neatly trimmed slit looked so sweet and inviting that he had felt a surge of arousal in his cock just looking at it.

The next moment, Martin was pulling Jenn into his arms, kissing her on the mouth, his tongue sliding between her lips to twine with hers. Pressing her against the counter, he kept on kissing while his hands slipped under her t-shirt, fondling her firm little breasts and gently pinching her sensitive nipples. A second later he had impatiently pulled up her t-shirt and stripped it off of her, as Jenn simply leaned back to let him do whatever he wanted.

"Mmm darling," he moaned, kissing her soft, naked rosebuds while his hands caressed the satin skin of her abdomen and hips. Jenn snaked her arms around his broad shoulders as he took a grip on her pert little bottom, and then she felt his biceps flex as he lifted her easily onto the dining table they had just been eating on. Once she was in this position, he spread her legs wide apart and thrust his face down into her moist, willing coosh.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Jennifer exclaimed, her toes curling as she felt his tongue swirling around her swollen love bud. Closing her eyes, she lay back submissively on the table as he kept on exploring, his tongue pushing through the moist petals of her flower and dipping into her pussy, sucking and licking and driving her crazy. Before long his fingers had joined in, rubbing her G-spot and making her gasp out loud with pleasure as her body began to tremble with ecstasy.

But suddenly he paused in his assault, planting tender kisses on her hips and her tummy, gradually working his way upward. Jennifer could feel his heart throbbing within his chest just like hers was. She sat up, frantically helping him to peel off his shirt and undo his trousers until they were skin against skin. In no time at all she was flat on her back again, spreading her legs as wide as she could and feeling his rigid cock thrusting deep into her tunnel.

"Ohgodplease!" Jenn gasped, feeling his thick torpedo slide in and out, slowly at first and then picking up speed and force until she could feel the friction of her butt on the faux wood tabletop. Martin's breath was hot on her neck as he kept pounding her like an engine. She held onto his shoulders desperately, hugging his sweaty body to her as she kissed and sucked at the lobe of his ear. Oh yes it was true, she thought as she felt her climax coming on like a typhoon -- she did crave to be dominated, but only by this one man whom she loved and trusted more than any other in the world.


***


Two hours later, when the night was fully dark, the Fuchsia Fox glided silently through the sky over the Golden Lotus compound. The gates were locked and there was no one on guard, so slipping over the fence presented no problem at all. The full moon was low on the horizon, giving plenty of light and shadows to hide in, but there were also electric lights around the dining hall, each of the cabins, and on the terrace. She would have to be careful crossing it.

The Fox darted from one shadow to another until she arrived at the first cabin. Peeking cautiously through an open window, she could tell that it was a dormitory for males. Bunk beds were arranged along the walls, just like summer camp, and at the far end was an opening that led to the bath and shower room. She could hear the shower running. Eight young men, mostly in their twenties, were lounging around in their long white robes, some reading, some watching a small portable television set.

Jennifer wondered for a moment what kind of television cultists watched. Did they have basic cable? She hadn't noticed a satellite dish anywhere.

"I thought these robes would be hot," one of the guys said, "but I must be getting used to it."

"You've told us this before, Brother Kimball," another man said good-naturedly.

"You'll be glad of that robe when winter comes," a third said.

"Praise Father Miklos for everything that he gives," another said devoutly.

The shower turned off and another young man walked out of the bathroom, his muscular, naked body still dripping wet as he dried himself off. The Fox's brown eyes grew wide as she caught sight of his big member hanging unashamed in between his legs like a counterweight.

"I'm not complaining, guys," this newcomer said. "I really do love Father Miklos and everything that he's done for me. But I was hoping that I'd be getting some pussy by now."

"Patience, Brother Daniel," the devout one said. "Once you attain the second circle, there'll be all the pussy you want. Have you seen those babes doing their yoga?" He winked.

"Yeah but it's hard until then," Daniel said. "Did any of you see the Fuchsia Fox when she was here today? Oh man, she's so HOT! If I thought there was any chance that SHE would be joining..." His flaccid penis suddenly thickened and rose to half mast. Jennifer bit her lip, jerking her head back away from the window before she did something to give her presence away, her cheeks none the less burning with pleasure at the compliment.

"Take another cold shower, Brother Daniel," she could hear one of the guys say. "And praise Father Miklos for everything that he gives."

The Fox moved on, skirting the rear wall of the cabin. The next was also a male dormitory. The superheroine darted between the next two, taking the long way around the hedge which screened the swimming pool. She could hear subdued splashing sounds coming from there, as if someone were having a moonlight swim.

Around the next corner, the Fox found herself on the edge of the terrace, with the doors of the temple just in front of her not twenty feet away. But there was no cover in between. She was about to run the gauntlet when she heard voices. Brother Stephen had appeared, climbing up the far steps to the terrace, leading six young and beautiful female acolytes in the direction of the swimming pool. The girls seemed to be barely suppressing their excitement.

"Hurry, girls," Stephen said. "Father Miklos is waiting."

As they disappeared through the gap in the hedge, the Fox seized her chance and dashed to the door of the temple. It was unlocked. She slipped quietly inside the vestibule. The double doors to the sanctuary were wide open. As she stepped inside, it was exactly as she had last seen it. The lamps were lit, spreading their glow over the tall cabinets to either side. Across the room was the dias with the chair that Father Miklos had sat in, now empty.

But there was someone kneeling in the center of the inlaid circle with their back to the entrance. Completely covered in that long white robe with its hood up, the figure's sex was impossible to tell. It could be a big woman or a small man.

Whoever it was, the Fox had to deal with him before she could investigate the temple. Quickly Jenn reviewed in her mind everything Barbara Wright had taught her about sleeper holds as she tiptoed forward. Her gloved arm snaked silently around the kneeling figure's slender neck, pulling tight.

Soft hands grappled with her, struggling, while at the same time the Fox's right hand sought for a grip around the robed figure's chest and to her complete surprise, encountered a pair of plump, rounded breasts. Her victim sprang to her feet, taking hold of the superheroine's wrists and breaking free of her hold, spinning around and tossing the Fox across the sanctuary with superhuman strength.

The Fox slammed into one of the cabinets, splintering its wooden facade and discovering complex electronic machinery underneath. She landed in a crouch, turning to face her opponent in the white robe. Jennifer caught a brief glimpse of a dark skinned face with curly, copper-colored hair and a pair of glowing red eyes. Uh-oh!

Twin beams of energy lanced out of the woman's eyes. The cocky superheroine was caught completely unprepared with her force shield down as concussion beams hit her in the chest like an oncoming automobile, blowing her straight across the vestibule and sending her lissome young body crashing through the doors of the temple.

A group of eight acolytes were passing across the terrace as the Fox landed hard on the pavement, rolling for ten yards and smacking her head on the unforgiving concrete. "FOX! Are you alright?" Jill Owens cried, running to her aid. The heroine's brown eyes fluttered for a moment as she passed into unconsciousness. Jill darted a look back toward the temple.

The robed woman strode through the open doors, pushing her hood back and showing her beautiful, bronze-skinned face. The woman called Powerhouse smiled with satisfaction.


***


Chapter 5 –


"Mala, what did you do that for?" Jill demanded, cradling the Fuchsia Fox's head in her lap.

"She was in the temple where she had no right to be," Powerhouse seethed, strolling across the terrace and planting her hands on her hips. "She was snooping."

"She was probably just looking for Father Miklos."

"No she wasn't. She was poking into things that don't concern her."

The other white-robed acolytes had clustered around, muttering between themselves as they got a look at the unconscious superheroine in her skimpy, skin-tight costume. Silence suddenly fell as Father himself came striding toward them from the swimming pool, his sleeveless off-white robe draped loosely around his dripping wet body. "What is this?" he demanded. Then, seeing the Fox lying there with her head in Jill's lap, he smiled.

"Sister Mala, you have done well," he said. "I suspected that she might return after dark."

By this time, a dozen more initiates had arrived on the terrace, including two wearing light gray robes which marked them as members of the Fourth Circle, the highest in the cult's hierarchy. "Ah, Brother Peter, Brother David," Father Miklos said, "carry our guest inside the sanctuary and put her in the restraint chair."

The two men took hold of the Fox's slender arms and lifted her into their arms, draping her lissome young body over Peter's shoulder as David held her silken legs to steady her.

"But Father, this is the Fuchsia Fox," Jill protested, scrambling to her feet. "She's a good person. She wouldn't do anything to harm us."

"Sister Jill," the cult leader said kindly, "trust me when I say that I'm doing this for her own good. You do trust me?"

For just a moment, Jill seemed to struggle with the thought. "Of course I trust you, Father," she said haltingly, as she undid her white robe and let it fall to the ground, revealing the short, diaphanous tunic underneath, sensuously caressing her svelte, young curves. "Body and soul, I am yours for the asking." It had the sound of a lesson she had learned by rote. Miklos smiled.

"I'd better come, too, Father," Powerhouse said, following behind David and Peter as they carried the superheroine toward the temple.

"No, Sister Mala," the cult leader said. "At present, you are only an initiate of the First Circle. There are mysteries which you are not yet ready for." Powerhouse lowered her face meekly. "As for the rest of you... if you are in the Third Circle, you may remain. The rest of you return to your dormitories. I have no doubt that the Fuchsia Fox will decide to join the Disciples of the Golden Lotus before the night is over. When she does, I will spread the joyous news to you all."

Of the twenty initiates now on the terrace, only six remained while the others dispersed. Jill reluctantly left along with Powerhouse. Miklos watched them until they were gone, then the serene and confident look on his face vanished as he spun around and entered the temple, pulling a cell phone from the pocket of his robe and speed-dialing it.

"Something unexpected has happened," the cult leader said anxiously to the person who answered. "The Fuchsia Fox is here... How am I supposed to know how she got onto us? She showed up earlier this afternoon and asked to see Jill Owens, the Homeland Security agent. I couldn't very well refuse, could I?"

A bulky steel chair was now sitting in the center of the sanctuary. Peter and David were just finishing securing heavy titanium clamps around the unconscious superheroine's wrists and ankles.

"Don't get excited," Miklos said into his phone. "Powerhouse caught her snooping around the temple and took care of her... Yes, yes, of course I'm going to use the Psychotron. When she was here earlier, I lured her into the circle, but somehow she managed to resist long enough to get out. Now I've got her locked in the restraint chair, so it should be--" As he listened to the protest on the other side of the phone, the anxious look on his face stiffened into a more confident one. "Oh, you're coming to see for yourself? Well that's fine. By the time you get here, she should be as docile as a lamb. I'm sure that--" A sudden beep was audible as the person on the other end abruptly hung up on him.

"The plot thickens," the Fuchsia Fox said. "You're not the mastermind behind all this after all."

Miklos was a little disconcerted to see the stunning superheroine's beautiful brown eyes open and glaring at him. How long had she been conscious? He dropped the phone into the pocket of his robe and drew the garment around himself. "That need not concern you," he said. "Rest assured that here at the Garden of the Golden Lotus, I reign supreme. And once the Psychotron has done its job, for all your power you will be my helpless slave. Mine and mine alone."

"The Psychotron?" the Fox said, vaguely remembering the mention of that name before.

"It was built by the ORCUS terrorist group," the villain sneered. "We managed to make off with it, right under the noses of the FBI."

"You mean your BOSS managed to make off with it," the superheroine smirked, needling him.

Miklos suddenly noticed that his two henchmen in the gray robes were clustered around one of the seven tall, decorative cabinets, which had been smashed open to reveal the delicate electronics of the ultrasonic waveguide assembly which it concealed. "What's this?" the cult leader snapped, rushing over to survey the damage.

"It must have happened when they were fighting," the henchman named Peter said.

"It looks only superficial," said Miklos, examining the components. "Go to the console and try it."

Peter opened a hidden door in the far wall which led into a small control room. He sat at the console and punched buttons, powering the machine up. "Level one diagnostic says everything is ship shape," he reported.

"Excellent," Miklos said, turning toward the Fox with a wicked grin on his face. "Initiate full power sequence." He and the other henchman both put on lightweight skullcaps to protect them from the ultrasonics as the cabinets began to emit a very high-pitched humming sound.

Now that she knew what was going on, Jennifer could feel the ultrasonic waves from the six tall emitters spaced around the room. Her silken skin seemed to tingle as they washed over every inch of her alluring body. Desperately the heroine struggled, tugging at her wrist restraints, but they were titanium and held fast. Her pulse rate quickened as she felt the subliminal whispering coming from the machine surrounding her, digging relentlessly into her skin, into her nervous system, into her very brain.

"I see your aura," Father Miklos said, his arms folded in front of his loosely-hanging robe. "I see past the facade that you hold up to the world. You put on a show of strength, but secretly you fear men. You fear the one who will defeat you and dominate you. And at the same time, you want him, you crave him. You long for him to come and take you."

"No... that's not true..." the Fox whimpered, squirming in her bonds as his words bored into her mind.

"Yes, it is," Miklos said confidently. "You must face the truth that I am that man. I am your conqueror." He spread his arms so that his robe opened in front to reveal his naked torso, his thick penis at rest in between his thighs. The Fox couldn't suppress a shiver of arousal at the sight of it. At the same time, the henchman David, standing well back, pressed a remote control.

The heavy steel chair began to unfold. The arms spread outward to either side, taking the Fox's imprisoned arms along with them. The panel in front separated, pulling her smooth legs apart at a forty-five degree angle, while the seat opened flat, transforming the chair into something like a table leaning upright at an approximately eighty degree angle with the superheroine still clamped to it.

"You want me to take you," Miklos said, reaching forward to caress her silken thighs. "You lie there helpless before me, helpless and unable to resist my manhood."

The Fox wriggled her pert little butt against the chair, as Father Miklos lifted her miniskirt up and out of his way so that the fingers of his left hand could slip under the waistband of the Fox’s panties, touching the smooth bare skin of her tummy. His right hand appeared holding a small laser pen, which he used to snip right through the fabric on her left side. The defenseless superheroine gasped with surprise as she felt the fabric part. Miklos then did the same to the right side, pulling her severed panties off and tossing them to the floor, leaving her pussy feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"This time I will not ask you to remove your halter top," Miklos said as his body sidled in between her defenselessly splayed legs. "You will retain your chest emblem, your costume, your outward signs of power, even as you surrender to your master. Body and soul, you are mine for the asking."

"N-no..." the Fox replied, feeling a quivering sensation between her legs as his hot boner rubbed along the smooth, vulnerable flesh of her creamy inner thigh. "I'll, I’ll never surrender to you..."

"Before I'm done, you'll be begging for it, little girl," Father Miklos replied.

The way the Fox’s body was clamped in place on the table, his cock couldn't quite reach into her cleft, therefore ,he did it manually, his fingers massaging the moist, tender skin around her slit.

The Fox squirmed, sliding her butt back and forth, once again yanking at the immoveable titanium clamps holding her restrained. Father Miklos grinned as he bent over, bringing his mouth down onto her succulent coosh. "Ohhhhhhh," the spunky super-lady instinctively moaned, her body involuntarily arching upward toward his talented tongue as he sucked on her muff. All the while, she struggled to maintain her concentration as the ultrasonic siren call of the machine kept up its unrelenting assault, undermining her will to resist. She felt as if she were going to cum at any moment.

But now from the other pocket of his robe, Miklos withdrew a black rubber phallus of amazing proportions. Jennifer's brown eyes widened, while her body trembled at the sight of it. Before she could voice a protest, her captor had positioned its bulbous tip at the lubricated petals of her labia and rammed it home!

"Ohgodddd," the Fox gasped, her back arching, her eyes rolling up in her head as she felt every single artificial ridge of the thing seem to bump over her swollen clit as it entered. It felt so HARD, for a moment she couldn't even breathe. Father Miklos knew exactly how to use it, too -- pulling it in and out with a graceful sort of corkscrew motion that made her head spin as if she were drunk. In no time at all, her slippery girl cum was gushing out around the rigid shaft.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," the heroine begged, her hips bucking back and forth as the thing stroked in and out of her quivering, spasming vulva. How long he kept it up, she couldn't have said. The next thing she knew, her coosh was spilling out yet another orgasm as he withdrew it.

"Body and soul, you are mine for the asking," Father Miklos said, grabbing hold of her chin and looking right into her foggy eyes. "Say it! Say the words!"

"Body and soul, I am yours for the asking," the Fox repeated, glassy-eyed. "Please..."

"Good," the cult leader said. "You will begin by telling me your real name. And then, everything else about you."


***


Chapter 6 –


All sixteen members of the Third Circle had assembled on the terrace outside the temple, exercising the privilege of their status in order to wait for the Fuchsia Fox to emerge as the latest subservient member of the Disciples of the Golden Lotus. As they waited, their attention was drawn to a pair of headlights approaching the rear entrance of the compound. Brother William and Brother Keith, the other two gray-robed initiates of the Fourth Circle, hurried to unlock the gate. They returned only moments later at the tail end of a procession led by a beautiful blonde woman of about forty or forty-five. She was wearing a double-breasted green military cut tunic with a short skirt. The male initiates watched her legs as she strode past, looking neither left nor right as she marched up the steps and into the temple, flanked by two henchmen.

Inside the sanctuary, the Fox's delectable young body was hanging limp in the clamps that held her wrists and ankles to the heavy steel table, as Father Miklos removed the protective skullcap from his head. Suddenly the blonde woman burst through the doors of the sanctuary with her two henchmen. She took one look at the Fox bound and helpless, and she smiled.

"I must say," she said in her thick Russian accent, "that it does me a world of good to see you this way, devocha."

"Major Zennakova," the stunning superheroine said dully. "So you're the one behind all this."

The Russian raised one flawless eyebrow. "You sound surprised. Who else could have brought off a coup of this magnitude -- stolen the Psychotron from the FBI and set up this harmless cult as a cover? Many of my slaves have contacts with government offices, either directly or indirectly. As those are brought into the fold, my reach will be long indeed. Even now I have the formidable Powerhouse and the famous Fuchsia Fox in my thrall."

Father Miklos cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh yes," Zennakova corrected. "With the assistance of Miklos Novotny, a con artist whom I met in Prague when he was about to be thrown into the Danube with a slit throat."

"I may be a con artist, Major," the cult leader said, "but I do personally control both Powerhouse and the Fuchsia Fox as my personal slaves."

"Are you certain?" the Russian asked suspiciously. "She seems quite impertinent for a slave."

"I am certain," Miklos said smugly, "because just before you arrived, she told me everything. She told me her real name, where she comes from, where she went to school, where she works, even the address of her apartment."

"And you are going to share this information with me, of course," Zennakova said dangerously. Her two henchmen, Prokofiev and Minsky, sensing her mood, drew automatic pistols. Miklos' two minions responded by likewise producing pistols from under their gray robes.

Just as quickly, Miklos turned a knob on the side of the steel table, releasing the clamps which held the Fox bound. "Not so fast, Major," he said with a wicked grin. "It suddenly strikes me that I am the one running all the risks here. I am the one who had to sweat for six weeks, doing nothing to arouse suspicion while the FBI had a surveillance van parked on top of the hill."

"Your point?" the Russian said coldly, her blue eyes fixed on the alluring young superheroine as she massaged life back into her glove-sheathed wrists.

Miklos drew himself up. "I think that I deserve to rank as a full partner in this operation, and not just a subordinate," he said. "If you don't agree, I can order the Fuchsia Fox to overpower you and just take over the entire thing."

Zennakova considered her position. "Then it would be foolish for me to not agree, would it not?"

"Yes, I think it would," Miklos said, strutting a little as he walked across the sanctuary. He then retraced his steps until he stood behind the Fox with one hand on her smooth bare shoulder. "Now that we are full partners, I'll tell you what I've learned. Her name is Gina Sommers, from Walnut Grove, Ohio. She works as a file clerk in the office of prosecutor Isadora Porteous, and she lives in an apartment in Georgetown with a parakeet named-- OWWW!"

The exclamation was drawn out of him as the superheroine suddenly plucked the hand off of her shoulder and twisted Miklo's arm around, very nearly breaking his wrist. The cult leader dropped to his knees in agony.

"Just so you know," the Fox said smugly, "it seems that if I concentrate hard enough, I can resist ultrasonic signals." Once she had realized that she was dealing with an ultrasonic device, it had been a matter of mentally adjusting the z-particle flux between her bracelets and her costume until they were blocked. It had been a very close-run thing, much closer than she wanted to admit, and if he had taken her halter top away, she would have been up the creek.

"But... but you gave in," Miklos stammered. "You meekly answered all those questions..."

"It's called faking it, sport. Women do it to men all the time. How else was I supposed to trick you into releasing the clamps?" Her lips twisted a little into a smirk and then teasingly she said, "If it makes you feel any better, you really ARE pretty amazing with that dildo."

The four minions opened fire with their pistols, the bullets pinging off the Fox's invisible force shield. One of the ricochets hit Major Zennakova in the leg as the superheroine released Miklos and sprang into action, hitting the henchmen like a human whirlwind. Her miniskirt had a tendency to swirl upward around her creamy thighs, reminding her all too vividly that she didn't have any panties on, but a little thing like that did not deter her from dropping all four henchmen in just under ten seconds, just as Zennakova disappeared through the temple doors.

The Fox burst forth onto the terrace in time to see the Russian limping away past the crowd of white-robed initiates who were waiting in front of the temple. William and Keith, the two in gray robes, produced ion pistols from under their robes and aimed them at the pursuing superheroine. Father Miklos stumbled to the doorway behind her, clutching his wounded arm.

"Stop the Fuchsia Fox, my children!" he cried. "Protect me!"

Jennifer ducked the energy beams that lanced out from the two pistols, going into a graceful spin that swept one long, silken leg at the two thugs and knocked them to the ground. The other twenty initiates closed ranks, ready and willing to fight but handicapped by the fact that they had no weapons on them.

"I'll take care of her, Father!" said a woman's voice, as Powerhouse pushed her way forward through the crowd, stripping off her long white robe and leaving only the short, diaphanous tunic they all wore underneath.

"We don't have to fight, Powerhouse," the Fox said, uncomfortably aware that, brainwashing or not, the super-powered Homeland Security agent already had enough animosity for her that she didn't need much coaxing. "You're being manipulated."

"Body and soul, Father Miklos," the bronze-skinned woman recited half to herself, "I am yours for the asking." She charged forward, copper-colored hair waving, her big melons jiggling against the bodice of her flimsy white tunic. The Fox had no choice but to brace herself for a fight.

Powerhouse led with a downward chopping blow with her right fist that would have taken a normal person's head off. The fuchsia-clad superbabe parried with a forearm block, as well as a follow up chop with her left. The agent replied with forehead butt to the Fox's chin which made her stumble backward, seeing stars. The bronze-skinned beauty went straight into a spinning back kick, which Jennifer caught, pivoting on her ankle and flipping the agent across the paved terrace.

As Powerhouse rolled to her feet, the Fox pressed the attack with a lateral kick to her gorgeous chest which spun her around. Once again her miniskirt swished seductively, for a second flashing her pink, naked coosh.

The bronze-skinned girl took advantage with a kick which caught the heroine squarely in the groin. The Fox cried out in pain, clutching at her tender, unprotected cleft. Powerhouse grabbed hold of the front of her clingy halter top and jerked the slender girl around, slamming her body hard up against the sturdy chain link privacy fence that screened the swimming pool.

The Fox gasped, her breath momentarily knocked out of her. Up came Powerhouse's fist into the side of her face. Jennifer braced herself, caught the next fist that came her way, and the two beautiful combatants grappled, lissome arms locked around sensuous young bodies as they struggled for position. Together they crashed right through the metal mesh fence, tumbling across the verge of the pool.

SPLASH! The cold embrace of water engulfed them both as they continued to wriggle and scuffle, now in slow-motion, fully submerged in the pool. The two attractive adversaries broke the surface with Powerhouse behind the Fox, her right arm around the brunette's swanlike neck in a tight choke hold, her huge mammaries crushed against Jennifer's shoulder blades.

"I've got you now, you little bitch!" the bronze-skinned girl gloated. "Surrender! Give in!"

The Fox shook her head stubbornly, not wasting breath on words as she struggled and splashed in the waist-deep water. Powerhouse loosened her death-like grip just enough to thrust the Fox’s head below the surface for a moment.

"Surrender!" she repeated, pulling the Fox's head back above the surface.

Rather than surrender, the sodden, waterlogged superheroine kicked backward with her gorgeous legs, sending both she and Powerhouse plunging below the water’s surface once again. In the free-for-all which followed, the Fox managed to wriggle around to face her opponent. Powerhouse latched onto her sylph-like waist as they fought, her D-sized bazooms rubbing in Jennifer’s face.

Desperately the Fox flexed her lissome arms, breaking Powerhouse's hold and flipping her completely over. Her glove-sheathed fists struck out in a left/right punch that caught her enemy by surprise on the chin. As the agent fell back, the heroine piled on, holding Powerhouse’s struggling frame underwater until she went limp from exhaustion.

Quickly Jennifer hauled her foe up into the air. Half-walking, half-swimming, she dragged her opponent to the edge of the pool and hoisted herself onto the verge before pulling the unconscious Powerhouse up with her, that flimsy white tunic stuck to her body like a second skin and practically transparent from its immersion.

"Stay right where you are!" commanded a female voice. It was Jill Owens, standing in the gap they had made in the fence, her shapely legs braced as she held one of the ion pistols trained on the Fox's heaving chest emblem.

"Oh Jill," the superheroine panted, drenched to the skin as well as feeling physically spent. "Please don't make me fight you, too."

"Father Miklos says you're dangerous and you need to be stopped," Jill stated, holding the gun steady on target.

"Miklos is the one who needs to be stopped," the Fox said. Still sitting on her butt at the edge of the pool, she slowly turned around to face Jill, careful to tuck her skirt in between her legs. "What does your heart tell you?"

"My heart?" Jill said. Her aim wavered. "My heart tells me that I've wanted to kiss you and make love to you since the very first moment I laid eyes on you."

Abruptly a group of initiates appeared in the other entrance to the pool area, led by Father Miklos himself. "There she is! Get her!" he urged.

Taken by surprise, Jill acted on pure instinct, wheeling about and firing the ion pistol at him. The cult leader went down to the stunning energy beam, causing all the others to murmur in confusion without their fallen leader to give them directions.

"The rest of you," the agent snapped, "drop whatever weapons you're carrying and line up against the wall! Hurry up!" Jill turned to the Fox and shrugged. "I guess I just handed in my resignation."


***


Epilogue –


Powerhouse regained consciousness to discover that the stress of the fight had erased her brainwashing. Even so, she was not pleased to find FBI and Homeland Security agents already swarming over the compound. All of the acolytes' cell phones had been confiscated when they joined the cult. Jill had found hers in Miklos' private quarters and used it to call in reinforcements.

The forty-one cultists were still loyal to Father Miklos, but shut inside the dining hall under guard, there wasn't much they could do about it. Considering the way Jill had managed to throw off her conditioning, the majority of them would be probably recover on their own, given time. Some of members of the Third Circle had gone through the Psychotron more than once in the three months they had been here, and were probably going to require de-conditioning later on.

The four men in the gray robes had never been through the brainwashing procedure at all. They were just Miklos' paid henchmen, and were simply handcuffed and taken into custody along with him.

The worst part, from the Fox's point of view, was that Major Zennakova and her two henchmen had been able to escape while she had been kept busy fighting Powerhouse. But she couldn't reasonably blame the brainwashed super-agent for that.

"What did you call her, Mala?" Jennifer asked Jill, who had been given a black jumpsuit to put on, to identify her as a Homeland Security agent.

"Mala Janachalabo," Jill replied. "That's her real name, her Ikorian name."

"I never knew that," the Fox said. "I've only known her code name, Powerhouse."

Isadora Porteous emerged from Miklos' private quarters, holding the door open for three assistants who were lugging laptop computers and boxes of files. "Hi, Fox!" the prosecutor gushed, adjusting her eyeglasses. "According to my quick count, there are still twelve cultists who weren't living at the compound. But they shouldn't be too difficult to round up."

"That sounds like your problem," the superheroine said. "I've done my bit."

"That you have, and I appreciate it," the blonde said. "I think we can carry on without you now if you want to go." She bit her lip as if there was something else she wanted to say, probably to invite her to the next Club X party, but she didn't dare to do that in front of Jill.

The Fox hugged them both good-bye. Every agent within sight paused to watch the gorgeous supergirl's elegant legs and seductive, miniskirt-clad booty as she sashayed to the middle of the terrace and took flight, disappearing into the night sky. Dora wondered out loud why she had walked all the way across the terrace to do that. Jill smiled secretly to herself as she remembered that the Fox still didn't have any panties on under her miniskirt.


the end>>>>
By Centurion

[GeekyPornCritic]

Centurion once again delivered a masterpiece. I love reading this series about The Fox's adventures. He remains consistent and references past stories. Most stories from writers in the community do not use continuity. Centurion's wonderful use of The Fox's continuity creates fresh and wonderful stories.

I'm glad we have a con-artist and religious villain in the Father. We don't see many religious villains in superhero media. Most religious villains are in media from Japan. Some of my favorite villains in many series are dishonest and abuse religion for their benefits.

I loved the humor from The Father when he recites the false information from The Fox. It was hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing. I hope the Father returns in a future story. I would like to find out why he was going to be executed in the past.

However, Centurion you once again teased us toward The Fox surrendering and being taken by a villain. I was on the edge of my seat, but then the other villains ruined the fun! The sexual tension from The Father using the dildo on The Fox was amazing. The way he was breaking her was unbelievably hot. Maybe the next villain will get to take The Fox! A man can only dream.

[flirty_but_nice]

GPC, thank you so much for your feedback. As always the case, it's so very appreciated!

[Artee]

I really like how you tease both the villain and the audience, and the way you express the Fox's teasing and playful attitude is excellent! Your stories are always a fun read.

If you don't mind, I'd like to give suggestions for your next story. I'd prefer if the idea to something something z-particle came to her earlier, like maybe make it more obvious. I think you did that with the mention of the ultrasonic waveguide assembly earlier, but I didn't know she could adjust her z-particle something something until she mentioned it. Maybe it's a thing in your earlier stories, I don't know. But to me her sudden ability to do so seems a little...unfair? I don't know how to describe it. Just my opinion though, great story!

[DrDominator9]

Magnifico! Love the peril is this story! And I see that there's another one posted. Aargghh! So...many....stories....can't keep.... up...must …..read....faster...!

[flirty_but_nice]

A reply from Centurion, more in depth than usual (applause!)

“I appreciate the comments from both of you. I'm always open to suggestions, because I want the stories to appeal to wide base of fans. In this case, her ability to resist the ultrasonic waves is really just an extension of her force shield. Long time fans know that she can deflect bullets and physical attacks, plus energy attacks of various kinds if she concentrates. I have had her attacked by sonic attacks a few times and the shield seems slightly less effective against them. The main reason I didn't foreshadow it earlier is that I didn't think of it until the last minute! I had written her into that trap and I was desperately trying to think of a way to get her out of it again. It suddenly occurred to me that if she concentrated hard enough her shield could protect her. I could have gone back and made it more obvious what she was doing, but that would have negated that delicious surprise of Miklos falling for her fake surrender and unlocking the clamps, which Geeky Porn Critic commented on.

This story was actually the result of a couple of different threads coming together. A few weeks after the last Demetrius story, Flirty was throwing out ideas and one of them was a cult that brainwashes young people into sexual slavery. As I was thinking about that, I remembered the Psychotron and realized here was an opportunity to use it. But I wasn't sure I liked the idea of Jennifer going undercover and getting brainwashed. She would have to have a really good reason. So the idea kind of went on the back burner. Then one day Flirty asked me how many ordinary men it would take to overpower the Fox in a fight. Her idea was the biker bar scenario in chapter one, only in her version the Fox gets overpowered and tied up, and left with a note saying, "This is what happens to people who cross us." That humiliation is supposed to motivate the Fox to take down the whole gang.

As I sat down to write that scene, I realized that with her force shield, it doesn't really matter how many there are. Ordinary men can't take her down. The force shield absorbs the shock of punches so that to her, it feels like they're using pillows. The most they can do is knock her down. And once she's down, they can't hold her down because she can lift something like 20 tons. Remember the tug of war with the University of Maryland football team? Even if I gave them baseball bats, her force shield could deflect them. The best they could do might be a lucky hit in the back of her head, and that would just make her see stars for a few seconds. I'm talking about a fair fight of course. As we all know it's possible for somebody to come up behind her before she raises her shield and knock her out, but that would be an ambush, not overpowering her by sheer numbers. And walking into a bar like that, knowing that she's surrounded, I figure she raises her force shield first thing. The bikers would have to have either superhuman strength or some kind of weapon like those energy staves I sometimes use, something that can penetrate her force shield. And now we're not talking about "ordinary men" anymore, we're talking about super-powered men and it's a totally different scenario. You start wondering why this gang isn't already taking over if not the city at least a few towns.

But even so I thought the idea of the Fox taking out a whole gang of bikers without working up a sweat so cool that it would still make a good opening scene for a story. And from there it was easy to segue into Dora asking for help with the cult. One chapter just lead to another. Sometimes that's the way the creative process works. You don't know where it will take you.

Centurion”

[Artee]

In this case, her ability to resist the ultrasonic waves is really just an extension of her force shield. Long time fans know that she can deflect bullets and physical attacks, plus energy attacks of various kinds if she concentrates.

Guess I gotta do more reading, then :L

I could have gone back and made it more obvious what she was doing, but that would have negated that delicious surprise of Miklos falling for her fake surrender and unlocking the clamps, which Geeky Porn Critic commented on.

That's an interesting point. I don't know, I think maybe I'm not into sudden "oh I had this all the while", especially when the viewpoint character is the one who surprises the audience.
Then again, it's probably just me and just a minor gripe.

One chapter just lead to another. Sometimes that's the way the creative process works. You don't know where it will take you.

Hah, that's so true. I have, like, 5 separate possible branches for something I'm writing and I still have no idea which one to choose ._.