The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

‘That didn’t go quite as planned...’

Alexis Bishop, in the guise of a feminine Ninja Vigilante, had gone to visit the recently rescued news reporter, Hina Li-Cox. She had been expecting adulation and accolades followed naturally by grateful information sharing of a well connected reporter. It would only be fair.

Instead, she got blamed for destroyed credibility, and pumped—unsuccessfully—for information.

When Hina had come to, she was going through harsh withdrawal symptoms. Having no idea what was happening, she called 911. The doctors found traces of heroin and ecstasy in her toxicology work up, some needle marks, scratching, and bruising, but nothing life threatening—that was the good news. The bad news was that she had called the hospital on an open line from home for drug-related complications after being absent from her job for days without any explanations. Now, if she was going to run any kind of story about kidnappings and conspiracies, she’d be easy to discredit. She’d been lucky enough just to hang on to employment.

“And then there’s the matter of, oh, I don’t have a story! No proof, no notes, all the tapes are wiped, all my notes are gone, probably burned. Look, whatever they wanted to accomplish be drugging me up—they got it, they won. I’m done, I’m out.”

Alexis let her continue even when Hina insinuated that her timely rescue actually finished the job her kidnappers had started. From Hina’s perspective, it would have been better to force them to risk bringing her back themselves, since they might have been caught that way. She stopped just short of accusing the vigilante of being in on it.

“I’m going in to work tomorrow, and after a kidnapping, drugging, and a rescue by a superhero, I have nothing. Bupkis, nada, zilch. I can’t go back with nothing—and I have NOTHING.”

Alexis cocked her head, arms and legs crossed as she stood, leaning on a couch corner, “Let me guess, you want me to be your in-lieu-of.”

“Well, a really exclusive interview would be one hell of a get. I might actually get to keep my job on camera.”

Alexis continued for her, “An interview on air, of course, since no one would believe it without video proof, right?”

Hina flashed a charming smile, “It would help me out a whole bunch, you’d be saving my life.”

“Tell you what, I will give you something, but just one thing.” Hina brightened, though her earnestness seemed artificial and overeager to Alexis. Ninja Vigilante pushed up off the couch, leaned in, and whispered, “Keep an eye on what the mayor’s riding.”

With that, she strode off to the window, pushed it open, and dived out into the pink and orange sunset sky.

Back in the apartment, Hina was grinning with pleasure over her skillful gambit, ‘Oh, you just gave me more than one thing, Ninja Vigilante. First, you’re a woman, and second, I have video proof...’ “...and that’s a scoop.”

Sadly, Alexis couldn’t stay back to witness what came next. She just had to imagine the look on Hina’s face when she realized that the hidden Bluetooth cameras were jammed for the entire visit. All she recorded was a video file of TV snow and a text file called, ”^_^ nice try.txt“. The thought of it gave Ninja Vigilante a superior tickle in her belly.

‘That didn’t go quite as planned... but well enough.’

So, she knew there was a kidnapping ring. The apartment in the complex was undergoing foreclosure proceedings. That wasn’t an unusual situation, so it could have been just venue of opportunity. That was a prima facie dead end, barring lifting a lucky fingerprint, and since she had rescued Hina without officer intervention, the cops weren’t going to handle any of the legwork. But now she had some more information: heroine and ecstasy. Something else would probably had to have been cut into the mix, given Hina’s sensual reaction. Something unusual. Alexis kept the Suit researching as she rode the subway uptown to run a small errand and catch a different kind of ride.

Without drug samples and time with a mass spectrometer, the drug lead would be difficult to track. So Alexis to returned to her hunch that there was more to the venue of opportunity that just opportunity. Following that line of thought, she found a property holding company that handled some of the work with the complex. Indeed, it had other holdings in the city prior to bankruptcy filings. It was a subsidiary of a larger, very private development firm that owned controlling interests in—among many other things—a building that was being leased to a really hot night club called...

“Myth.”

The night club was designed as a multi-room, multi-themed night club experience. The dance section was the Parthenon (complete with a few bar-thenons), the VIP balcony overlooking the floor was called Olympus. There was an Atlantis Section with a mermaid tank where many guests could lounge, and Ambrosia, a full service restaurant with club ambiance (and club prices). Finally, there was the Labyrinth. Guests were selectively given passes to the Labyrinth based on beauty and lack of inhibition—VIP status was no guarantee. In the dark twists of the Labyrinth, anything sensual and some things illicit could and often did occur. A little desire could leave one utterly and wonderfully lost in their passions in the Labyrinth. Throughout the club, the male staff members were dressed as fauns or mermen, almost always bare-chested or open-vested with their muscles oiled and gleaming. The women came in all manner of nymph with elaborate attire and make-up. Always young, always stunning, always flirty.

It was night club heaven for those wealthy or decadent enough to stay into the wee hours of the night and into the next morning. The floors above the club were a complete mystery.

Around midnight Ninja Vigilante peered into the fourth floor window like a spider on the wall. The silence and absence of motion in the hall inside stood in contrast to the sounds of city traffic on damp streets and pedestrian echoes. A moment later, the window was shut again, and Ninja Vigilante was inside.

None of the floor plans matched what was on file at City Hall, making it more difficult to navigate. The combination of white walls and fluorescent lighting left few places to hide. If she had a clue what she was looking for, that might have helped too. She stopped at a corner, back to the wall. Just around it were two guards standing by a wooden door. Guns were likely holstered under their suits, and but their radios were the bigger problem. She considered what it might take to jam their signals when luck came and changed the situation. The door opened up, and beyond it she could hear relaxed banter and music, but it didn’t sound like Myth. She stole a quick look with a finger filament camera; a short American girl in full geisha make-up and attire came out. This girl was maybe 5 feet tall, barely 5 feet 4 inches with the wig—a tiny little thing. Her kimono was slit up the middle and gave tantalizing flashes of her legs as she moved.

“’Scuse me fellas,” she smiled to the guards as they let her pass.

Alexis thought for a moment about a ruse—though there was hardly time to think.

‘Suit configuration Theta, Helm cloth-form.’

Confirmed.

Her suit shimmered a moment, becoming transparent at the midriff, shoulders, and upper arms. As an afterthought, she bit her lip and opened up a small slit at the neck down to her sternum and flared it open to give her a little cleavage. Strangely, she suddenly felt more comfortable in her new skin. It just felt right to open up her suit just a little more. Just then, the geisha girl turned the corner.

“Ahh!” She jumped startled but it quickly shifted to joy, “Eeek! Lisa?! Oh My God Lisa, what are you doing back here?!”

Alexis shrugged.

“Wait right, you’re in character, we’re always in character,” the young geisha hefted a sigh. She then clasped her hands in a submissive pose and bowed, “Kashko marimasta.”

Impulsively, Alexis leaned down and hugged her and the young girl lit up with joy. The guards turned the corner, with guns drawn only to see two girls jumping up and down hugging and squealing.

“Wow, that outfit, I love the changes, the pouch totally works, whatcha got in there, huh? Huh?” she winked conspiratorially. She looked back to the guards: one was confused, the other looked like he’d seen a ghost—his face was ashen. “Guys! Lisa’s back!” She turned right back to Alexis, “Wait, so we have to talk! I thought you moved out to LA for that acting job.”

Alexis shrugged and nodded.

“God you look fantastic, jeez your abs are totally rockin’. Are you doing an action movie?” As she spoke, the young geisha started leading her back to the door.

“Uhm, Abbey, you have a client coming soon,” the confused guard grumbled.

“Aw, eat a fatty, he can wait, this is my homegirl! I gotta hear about LA,” Abbey turned to her, “Oh and you have to talk to Seth, he’s been all ‘whacked out conspiracy theory guy’, saying that you were like in a ditch or something. He’ll piss his pants when he sees you! So spill! LA! Dish!”

The moment of truth: “Well, I’m working on a proper British accent, so my agent tells me that it is imperative that I speak with this accent at all times if I’m to be a Bond Girl.”

“Oh My God, that’s so good you sound totally different and totally British!” She squealed again and headed in through the doorway, “You’re going to kiss Daniel Craig?!”

The cold world of white walls and fluorescent lighting of the anonymous hallway gave way to what might be described as a dormitory of sorts. To her left she saw a hallway leading to a room with a few guys playing video games and a couple working out on weight benches. Abbey led her down a different way, where a peppy pop cover of “You Light Up My Life” played while they traversed a series of wide walk through rooms lined on either side with couches, random clothes racks, and people. Teens actually. For a moment, Alexis felt like the Resident Dorm Monitor. They looked like they could all be high school juniors, seniors, and college freshman in various states of casual dress and undress. An oddly effeminate guy walked by followed by an altar boy. One girl was topless doing her makeup in a mirror, while another girl was sitting back on a couch reading a magazine.

She then saw a young man dressed in jeans and nothing else smack the magazine out of couch-girl’s hands and lean in with a mischievous grin. He pressed into her body, mashing her chest against his as he kissed her. She responded, deepening the kiss. His hands took her, searching her body and caressing her legs. She seemed to be lost in his touch. Young as he may have been, he was clearly dominating and overwhelming her. Alexis gulped a bit as her fantasies flashed again, imagining herself weak and taken by him, unable to resist him as he lead her on to pleasure.

Snapping back her attention to the rest of the scene, she saw, two other girls dancing and singing along to the inane pop song, while across the hall another girl was listening to an iPod, doing yoga. Abbey was yapping on and on, but Alexis was watching a boy probably her very age walk by with a towel wrapped around his hips, the water glistening on his lean muscular body. He seemed completely at ease with the crowd of nubile femmes and toned males. He dropped the towel in front of a clothing rack and pondered what to wear while Alexis’ eyes drank in his perfect, taut backside.

“So here it is!”

“Huh, what?”

“Here, the prop sword you forgot. You know, I said, ‘you forgot your sword’, you said ‘yeah’, I said ‘I think I know where it is,’ you said ‘Cool’.”

“Right, yes, of course, my sword,” she said continuing the British accent.

“Oh, and I’ve been using your happy lipstick, and yeah it’s awesome. Let me get it... here! You’ll probably want it back for tonight, huh?”

“Of course,” Alexis nodded.

“Hey, by the way, you all right? I heard the guy got —”

Abbey’s pantomimed finger slash across her throat was abruptly interrupted by a young man in jeans and a messy mat of hair who swaggered over. “Lisa? Well look what the cat dragged in.”

Alexis was suddenly at a complete loss for words. It was the guy who’d just been making out with the girl on the couch. She never found herself at a disadvantage with other people, but for some strange reason she just found herself feeling more and more docile. She felt frozen in place as he walked up to her. Abbey, too, was stuck in place. She had the tube of lipstick in her hands and was about to give it to “Lisa”.

“No words? I thought you would have something more for me, little Lis.” He reached to take Abbey’s hand with the lipstick. “You know Lisa, I’ve missed you,” he said as he put a more than friendly hand on her shoulder. “And Abbey here’s missed you too.” He then guided Abbey’s hand to the slit in “Lisa’s” top, gently making Abbey’s fingers tuck the tube in her cleavage. Like a skilled sexual puppeteer, he used Abbey’s hand to massage her soft breast. “Abbey’s missed you a whole lot. She can’t stop talking about you.” Abbey was blushing fiercely but didn’t remove her hand or stop fondling when he let go. He snaked his hand down her abs circling her navel gently, “Do you miss her, Lisa?”

She was still speechless, and could hardly stifle her moan when his fingers slipped down farther and pressed against her warm, plush mound of liquid heat, so thinly covered. “Do you want her, Lisa?”

He kept working her in slow, insistent, circular teasing, while Abbey gently massaged her breast, teasing her tightening nipples. Alexis felt her world spinning, her libido in overdrive, and her will to resist anything slipping away. She could hear the words echoing in her own head. ‘You want her...’ She could feel her response rising inside her with words she would have blushed to say. Her fingers nervelessly unclenched, dropping the forgotten prop sword. His other hand slid down her shoulder to her now free hand and guided it towards his own crotch, and he whispered, “Or are you still stuck on me?”

Barely a whisper, “I want...”

“Lisa’s” delayed whimper of a response sent Abbey soaring for a moment, until “Lisa” cocked her head to him and not her. Her silent expression of preference jarred Abbey out of her own hopeful reverie. “I- I have a client, I h- have to go.”

Alexis’ fingers gripped his hardness and she bit her lip. ‘Why am I letting him touch me so... why can’t I stop touching HIM... Him... him...’ She looked into his eyes and they seemed to pulse, drawing her in. She felt herself drifting, while the world was slipped away. She was hyperaware of the heat of his body sliding next to her. His lips came close to her covered ear. Even through the Suit she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lobe, his hardness against her fingers. Her vision blurred for a moment, and her mind scrabbled for any hold on reality. It caught the slightest fingerhold.

“I have to go.” It was more of a whimper than a statement. A plea for mercy that part of her hoped would not be answered.

His shoulders fell, “Yeah yeah, clients first, but save something for me.” He was about to let go when he added as an afterthought, “And Abbey.”

She was dizzy with arousal, frustrated with her desires, and surprised at herself. She made her way, weak kneed and wobbly, to the main door. The towering guards let her out without any issue, and she turned the corner, stopping at the wall to collect herself. As strange as that all was, it was absolutely exactly what she was looking for. First, Hina was captured and sensually drugged, and the leads took her to a wholly illegal youth prostitution center was being run from the same building as a night club. They were probably runaways, abandoned youth that found shelter and care in a strange prostitution dorm where promiscuity seemed to be encouraged. The lack of beds meant there was probably a communal sleeping area. They were being broken of modesty and sense of identity. They were well kept sex slaves. She didn’t know what might have happened to the actual Lisa. Something told her she wasn’t in LA making movies and maybe one of the guards might know more especially the one who went ashen. Or maybe she was making movies, but they certainly wouldn’t be action movies given the interests that seemed to be at play here. The club owners were leasing the lower floors of the property, and these floors were done by a separate company, with links to Hina’s prison of pleasure. That was not a coincidence.

With a thought, a second belt pouch bubbled out from the suit on Alexis’ right hip. She fished the lipstick tube from her cleavage and looked at it. For a strange moment she got an urge to try it on. It seemed to be calling to her. But that would be completely stupid. It might be drugged. Well, it probably wasn’t, but still, why would she even consider it right now, no one can see her lips anyway? Besides, she was on a mission, not on a date! She shook her head and slipped the lipstick in the second pouch. Still, the image of herself putting the lipstick on flashed and faded in her mind. What would it feel like to wear the lipstick, to be Lisa, and what might her client do with/to her?

As soon as Joe heard about the lipstick, he concluded probably drugged. Now, he slapped his knee in frustrated that he missed a chance to get her to drug herself. The thought of it alone gave him a stiff thrill and a shuddered grin. He’d amped up her feelings of relaxation and calm when he heard Abbey call it “happy lipstick,” and she seemed to feed off that nicely. But nothing was as satisfying as how her delta and sigma waves spiraled up when that guy was working her over. That guy must be some kind of Don Juan, because there was no way his original coding could have adapted to her thought patterns so quickly and efficiently as they did. She’d been hovering in an erotic trance nearly ready to strip down and—no, she was so submissive she was about ready to let HIM strip her down.

He shook off the grin, though suddenly verbally chastising himself. At least he’d been smart enough to stop tweaking her further down and shocked her back up with a quick jolt of fear.

He got up and headed to get some more carrots, talking to himself, “Come on, you can’t mess her up that way right now, not with what you have to do. You have to be smart. You have to be better, right? Right. Yes I do. Hmm.. Maybe if I zonked out the word ‘happy’ in happy lipstick she’d not think it was drugged—maybe make her hear ‘lucky’ instead of ‘happy’... It would be fun to be able to twist her mind while she was under the influence of something.”

He shook his head again, refocusing on a more important goal, ‘Come on, man, get this together. I’m not going to be a slave here forever. Focus, you have a plan, kind of, maybe, sort of—YES—just think you piece of shit!’

The bosses’ office and lounge area looked more like the a lobby of a fung shui design consulting firm. Stylish couches and love seats, open spaces, an “S” shaped bar/refreshment station, a few common work tables, random greenery and a fountain overlooked by a loft with a desk and a darker mahogany theme. A few office workers were milling around making plans and chatting, even though it was past midnight. Ninja Vigilante disabled the camera in the air vent and, by tapping into its link, disabled the rest of the cameras on the floor. Security wouldn’t be alerted to her presence until she got a chance to make her entrance. Excitement bubbled up in her tummy and tickled her fingers. It was time to change the way of the world just a little bit.

The grate from the air vent hurtled out across the office/lounge, startling some of the well-dressed staff. A black and flesh toned form dived from the vent in a somersaulting perfect arc to land on one knee in a dramatic pose.

“What the —” “Security!” “Call Security!” “Ahh!” “Woah.”

‘Ahh, beautiful music. Panic has its uses, or at least it will soon enough. Here come the cavalry right on schedule.’

Two barrel-shaped rent-a-cops in vests charged out from around the corner, sending random papers and employees toppling and flying. One charged her on sight. She met him with a tumble followed by a spinning bitch slap upside the head.

“...it’s the ninja-b-bitch!” The other was calling for back-up, so she crossed her arms and waited for him to finish. He met her stoic featureless gaze with manly trembles and fumbling fingers reaching for his side arm.

She wagged a finger at him, but he ignored her admonishment. Sweaty palms raised the side arm eliciting more panic from the remaining employees.

“What’s going on down there?”

The boss’ timing was a bit unfortunate for the the guard. He quickly glanced up, and only to look back in time to see a black blade slash out slicing the weapon barrel in twain... lengthwise. Ninja Vigilante smirked inside her helm. This was theater and for now it was going according to script. ‘First scene set, cue villian.’

“Mister Jake Rameri.”

“Well, I’ll be. It’s the Ninja Vigilante.”

“In the flesh.” Time for the villain-heroine banter. ‘He’s going to stall for time, I’m stalling for chaos.’ She hadn’t even bothered to disguise her voice this time.

“Interesting. I’d heard you were a formidable brute.” He descended the stair calmly, with utter confidence. “Seems I might have to reconsider my sources.”

“Seems so, the only brutes I see are the one on the floor and the one wetting his pants.”

“Is he really? That’s—embarrassing.” He clasped his hands, “Well, I suppose I’m going to have to find new security. Shouldn’t be too hard in this economy.”

“Might be a little harder when all you have to trade are cigarettes and your bottom.”

His mouth twisted sourly, “Irrelevant bluster. Look, En Vee ? may I call you that?”—“No.”—“What do you think is going to happen here?”

“Well, I’m fairly certain that the seven—no, eight—gentlemen who are sneaking up on me aren’t even going to be as effective as the first two.”

He quickly held up his hand signaling the security back-up to stop. “All right, bitch, what do you want?”

“Oh come on, no more droll banter? I was enjoying it.”

He frowned at her.

“How about this... You tell them to drop their guns and I won’t pull a repeat side-splitting performance on your pistol. And yes, I know you don’t have a gun.”

He swallowed and waved his hand downward slowly. She heard the satisfying clacks of metal laid down on wood floors.

“All right, now what.” It was more of a statement than a question, the contempt in his voice was palpable; Here was an alpha male quite used to getting his way.

‘Wait, how many clicks was that?’ She spun and ducked left, causing the guard to train his gun onto Jake Rameri himself!

“Don’t shoot!”

The guard pulled up his fire arm even as he pulled the trigger leaving a bullet hole in the loft instead of the lofty head honcho. She pounced on him in a flash landing both knees into his chest sending the gun flying and kicking herself back in a reverse somersault. She caught the gun mid-flip and popped out the clip and chambered round in one fluid motion as she landed. Arms wrapped her from behind while another guard came at her looking to deliver a right hook. She ducked out of the hold quickly enough to make the solid right hook land on the grabby guard’s chest.

‘Hmm, if only he’d been shorter,’ she ruminated while sweeping the puncher’s legs out from under him. The other guy tried to fall on her and wrap her up, only to miss and knock his knees onto wooden flooring as she rolled out of the way.

‘Now where are we in the play? Heroine in distress, dramatic victory, escape, cops show up, and tons of explaining to do! Elbow here, sweep the leg, that’s two more down.’ She tangled another guard in his own jacket and pantsed him before flipping him backward over her head. Wait, there’s the guilty bundle of nerves who thinks I’m Lisa.’

Indeed he was, he’d been the first guard to drop his gun and was now immobile, jaw agape, and terrified. She turned towards him, casually wrenching the shoulder of another guy who tried to hit her, and gave him a square kick to the groin.

Only three were really down for the count, the dislocated shoulder, the broken leg, and he-of-the-crushed-walnuts. The others would probably recycle.

She grinned to herself as she deflected punches from two more hapless guards as if they were extras in a Jet Li flick. With a flourish she danced out from between them and ran up to Jake Rameri, who’d turned his back. She grabbed his shoulder to swing him to face justice, but as he spun he flung some liquid at her from a bottle. It splashed in her face mask, and she quickly wiped at it with one hand with the other arm still up to defend herself. For a brief moment of horror she thought it might be acid, but the Suit didn’t flash any warning. Suddenly, the thick sickly pungency of chloroform assailed her nostrils.

Yellow warning signs flashed in her view when the chloroform reached the olfactory sensors in her hand. She staggered backwards wiping with at her face in panic. The Suit mask had just become a perfect chloroform trap. The room tilted wildly, and something knocked her sideways.

Jake’s slithery sneer grew into a smile. Apparently, this ninja wasn’t quite as perfect as she thought she was.

‘Mask seal’

Seal Confirmed.

From far away she could hear chuckles forming into laughter and jeering taunts. The world spun around her and she struggled to think while the room darkened.

‘Remove pocket RF... shielding...’

Confirmed.

‘Nine... one...’ Her thought went unfinished as Ninja Vigilante crumpled to a pile on the floor.

When the jeers and groans from bruised bodies and egos died down, Jake Rameri uttered a single ominous word. “Dibs.”

He had to spend a few minutes directing his boys to lick their wounds and keeping the ones who were unharmed off his new trophy. With that taken care of, it was time to take what was his.

He carried her in a fireman’s carry keeping his distance from the chloroform soaked mask. Her limp body was so light over his shoulder; how was it possible for her to do so much damage to his team? No matter, he was carrying this prize to his desk and taking her right there.

He slung her limp body onto the desk, barely bothering to catch her lolling head. The impact elicited a grunt from the drugged girl. “Yeah bitch, you picked the wrong people to fuck with.” As if to drive the point home, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the pair of handcuffs he’d taken from one of his guards. He pushed her arms up over together over her head and looped the cuffs through the handle of a locked drawer on the desk. “Now it’s time for you to get fucked with.” Confident that she was helpless, he smiled more freely.

The letch looked up and down her tight and bound form. Though she lack topside for his taste, she was nice and slim. Her abs were sleek, and her waist curved in so sweetly. He ran his hands over her firm breasts, caressing her with a grin. Her body was warm from exertion and even warmer further below. He could feel the plush softness of the flushed and aroused mound between her legs. Her swollen arousal and his rush of control pulled him up to full mast. He was primed to fuck this bitch into oblivion.

He tried to slip his fingers under her pants, only to find that it seemed to connect to her skin. ‘Weird...’ He picked at the fabric to pull it up amazed as the fabric continued upward, covering her midriff. ‘What the hell?’ It was damn near invisible, but definitely there. He looked at the slumbering masked face in consternation. “What’s this, some kind of bat suit?”

Snarling, he reached for his back pocket for his silver switchblade. A flick of the wrist brandished a clean, hungry blade, but this time the blade bit off more than it could chew. It sawed against the gossamer wisp of fabric without so much as making a mark. Enraged at her ability to frustrate him even while unconscious, he stabbed at her, only to recoil when the knife clinked out of his hand with a jolt. Disgusted with the prospect of settling for a victory dry hump, he groped and yanked at the rest of her body, looking for a catch or zipper or some way to get her naked. There was no seam at the waist nor any catch of any kind along her long toned legs. Moving back upwards, he touched the opening at her modest cleavage and felt a rush of excitement.

His hand was touching flesh—real flesh. Though she was splayed out on her back and the flesh was more sternum than anything else, he could definitely feel her skin. With an evil grin, he dropped his trousers and mounted her atop his desk. “If I can’t fuck the great Ninja Bitch, at least I can tit fuck you.”

After a second he hopped back off the desk, searching his pants for his video phone. Not for the first time, he wished he’d stashed some hand lotion or K-Y up in his loft office. Then with an evil grin he thanked heaven for his penchant for martinis with pimento olives. Sitting astride the fallen heroine against, he turned on his recording camera phone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Ninja Vigilante, olive juice, and a hard cock.”

He slathered pungent olive oil in the slitted opening of her suit and rubbed it into her skin with one hand, taking care to get good shots of it for posterity. Then he closed his eyes and smiled. Her breasts might be small for his standards, but there was just enough to be pushed together to form a nice slippery channel of warm skin. He started fucking her tits in earnest.

The slick sloppy sounds of oil and skin slapping were only interrupted by their breathing and her occasional plaintive groans. He dropped the camera phone. Her flesh was so delicious. Just the thought of being the one man to defile this woman was a stimulant to his sex drive. He relished it, muttering out curses at her, taunting her even as he was fucking her, his own words driving him over the edge while her random whimpers tickled his viscous proclivities.

“Fuck fuck, take this, take- fucking face... y—yeah!” He slumped forward as he came in a sloppy mess on her blessedly covered neck and chin.

Minutes later through grey echoes and blurred images, square tiles came into her view.

“Hello, little ninja girl.” His patronizing voice echoed tinny in her ears.

His face descended upside down and wobbly in her vision. Her head was pounding, probably from the chloroform. She couldn’t smell it anymore, there was something much more pungent assailing her nostrils now. She saw him dab a cloth over her mouth—probability of it being chloroform: about 1000%. Fortunately, her face mask had sealed out air, and it was now being channeled from further down. Unfortunately, it reeked of olives and astringent or bleach.

Her weak struggles against the chloroform thrilled him, even though he’d already relieved his needs.

“Now we’re going to have a little chat, and if you want to stay awake you better come up with good answers. Got it?”

She nodded meekly.

“Good little ninja girl. Tell me what you know.”

“You stink like olives.”

“Wrong answer.”

“Going to put me back to sleep already?”

“Maybe next time you won’t wake up.”

“That won’t work, Flake.”

“Oh, don’t think I won’t kill you.”

“I think you’ll try... but that chloroform won’t work anymore.”

“Oh really.”

“Don’t you know?”

“What?”

“I’m a superhero,” she responded with a matter-of-fact ease that disquieted him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve built up an immunity to chloroform already. It won’t work on me anymore.”

“Bullshit, I’m calling this bluff,” he covered her face again with the soaked pad.

“Okay, but it’s not like I didn’t tell you.” Her chest rose as she seemed to take a deep breath of the soporific solution.

“Fucking cunt!”

“Sorry,” she replied, commanding the suit to snap the cuffs open. In a whip, she kicked herself up to sitting, “I’m not your synecdoche.”

“Huh?”

“You know synecdoche? As in ‘the flatfoots are coming to lock you up?’ Check your phone.”

As if on command his phone rang. He grabbed at it, “What?!”

“Cops, there all over the place, it’s a god damn raid, your lawyers couldn’t keep ‘em out!”

He looked at her in abject horror, “What did you do?”

She reached down into one of her side pockets, the very pocket she’d removed the RF shielding from before she passed out, and pulled out a strange looking device. “Oops, I forgot I stole the mayor’s car, think fast!” She tossed him the flashing device and he caught it with both hands. “That’s the Lo-jack, I think they might have probable cause to check the place out. I guess I better run from the cops, huh?”

“Wait, wait, you can’t do this!”

“Do what?”

“You have to get me out of here, if this goes down, I’m a dead man.”

“Sounds like just deserts to me.”

“I’ve got pictures! Nasty pictures.”

‘Suit, locate all active recording devices.’

Cellphone—2 meters

‘Suit, data wipe.’

Confirmed

“You really don’t.”

“Wait no, you don’t want me dead!”

The sounds of crashing and kicking down doors burst from below as officers stormed in. It was commotion to join the chaos she’d sown so easily before.

The suit started buzzing as it picking up police communications. So much was going on she seemed to be getting some static-filled crosstalk. “All right, fine. Give me a reason to save you.”

“I- I can give you a name!”

“A name? That’s it?”

“Yeah, a name, just get me outta here.”

The buzzing was going and coming in her helmet and with the yelling below and commotion, it was getting hard to hear him, especially with him rasping it out trying to be silent and stealthy. “Time’s ticking.”

His lips moved and he said something, but the buzzing spiked; it was hard to make out.

“Sorry time’s up, toodles!” With that she waved ‘bye, and leaped up into the rafters, breaking through the paneling and disappearing into the innards of the building.

“Put your hands up!”

With those dreaded words yelled behind him, he really had no other choice.

Minutes later, he was being led outside in cuffs in the background while a reporter gave her story with an eager yet sober tone. “That’s right Shepard, I’m here at a downtown hotspot where the daring theft of the mayor’s car led police to a night club where they found a den of sin that was much more than an urban ‘Myth’. This is Hina Li-Cox of Action 12 News, your best source for eyewitness local news.”

Alexis was perturbed at the Suit’s audio degradation. Sitting back inside the safe room, with a hand towel that stank of olives and cum, she leaned over the Suit with concern. Maybe the AI was getting sloppy with handling multiple communication screens, but that code seemed to be procedurally intact and running efficiently. She resolved to dedicate more RAM for processing AI. Shaking her head she rewound the feed to see if the audio sensors recorded his words. All she wanted was that name. When she got to it, she found the audio crystal clear. “Joseph Lindsey.”

‘Okay, who the hell is Joseph Lindsey?’

Back in his own lab, Joseph Lindsey smiled and heaved a sigh of relief. With his artificially injected audio of his own name safely recorded over whatever Jake had been trying to tell her, his plan was set in motion beyond the point of no return. ‘There is yet hope to be had.’ A few hours of sleep and he’d have a chance to work with Ms. Cummings in the morning. ‘So much to do and so little time, but there is yet hope to be had.’