The Slut Squad isn't as close as Aura made it seem that first night all that time ago. Granted, that she was lying to me is not the biggest shock in the world. At least they're a lot closer now that they're helping each other stay conditioned. Aura ties up Caress. Caress tells Aura what a hot little slave of a slut she is while fucking her brains out.

It's fun for the whole family, and it makes them both all the more pliant.

Two down. The Doctor gets saved for last. She is the one member of the Slut Squad I have no qualms about going in mostly for the sake of revenge. I need the other two before I can go after her.

Glimmer did make me milk my brains from my breasts, but Whisper was who added the extra kick to it. She even started working her power on Glimmer at the very end. She'll be dangerous, but since I can deafen myself a lot easier than I can blind myself, I think I'll go with that plan.

The first part of the plan is to find a place Whisper goes where being deaf won't be noticeable. Lucky enough for me they both knew about a dance club that whisper goes to. So, I pay a visit to a consignment shop for some new clothes, shove some of my medicinals into the pockets, my headphones, and I'm off. Not really headphones, no one uses those anymore, but ear buds that trace down along my spine under the tight top to a small mp3 player in my ass pocket. When I need to, I can just reach down and click play.

I'll be deaf as a doornail.

If Aura didn't recognize me, then Whisper won't. The mp3 player is shoved in the ass pocket of high cut shorts, and above my waist is covered in a nice tight sparkly but still dark low cut top. I'd love to be able to pull this seduction off as Patina, but it just wouldn't work. Besides, Lucia is as much of a disguise as Patina is.

The heels that finish off the last detail of the outfit are a little high, but I actually fought in worse before, so they're not too awful. "You two girls be good and obedient while I'm out, and I'll bring you a little friend, okay?"

"Oookaaay . . ." Aura moans out between grinds into Caress's helplessly tied body. Caress responds with a mumble, but her mouth is too full of Aura's breast to be audible. That's fine by me. As long as they're fucking each other's minds out, they're not fucking mine, or any innocent woman's.

By this point, I would hardly consider myself innocent.

Just like in all of the movies, the first thing I notice inside of the club is the hard primal bass beat. It's so hard I can feel it throbbing inside of me and either I'm just feeling silly or it makes my heart skip a beat so that it can get on the same rhythm. It hurts, and I clutch my hand around my pendant hard and silently hope it doesn't fail on me now, and then everything feels okay.

Maybe I should be a little bit more careful with myself, but I really couldn't have been prepared for music like this. It just thumps inside of you in places you can't even feel when you're not listening to music this loud. That must sound a touch crazy, but that wouldn't be a dishonest statement.

The club's name is Nevermore. I won't remember it after I'm done. There are a lot of gorgeous things to see, though. Girls in tight dresses that hardly look like clothes as much as salad dressing, tattoos, and piercings that glow under the throbbing lights. The strobes add a disorienting effect to everything, and everyone looks like they're on something or another.

A girl with red hair tied back in a similar style to my own walks by with a black shirt that says whore in glittering silver letters and shoves a woman against a wall. There's definitely an ambiance. I'm tempted to check to see if the redhead isn't doing that against the poor woman's will, but with all of the drugs in this place . . .

There's justice, and then there's overkill. No one ever chastised a cape for using their power ring to stop the mastermind instead of the vandal.

Whisper hangs out here often from what I've been told, but isn't much of a dancer. She usually just sits at the bar, like that small black haired girl with the shadow over her eyes is do- . . . or that's her. Of course, as soon as I look at her she's getting up after wiping her mouth to head for the little girl's room.

Trapping her in the lady's room is not what I have in mind. Those are always way too quiet. As it is, I just stay far enough back to blend in with the crowd and dance. Whisp is going to be tricky, really tricky, even if she's only half as powerful as I remember her being. She was probably even more, my mind was pretty out of it by the time I met her.

At least the music sounds good and I can't hear the lyrics because the bass drowns them out. I might need to take a girl here someday just to tell her the bass is beating the will right out of her head. It would work like a charm . . .

Forever and a half later Whisper finally comes back out from the bathroom and flicking her hands in a way to show she washed them. Well, at least she's sanitary. That's never a bad thing though in this case it doesn't give me any ammunition that I don't already have and well, I never frown at an advantageous situation even if there is a stronger feeling of victory when the odds are against me.

With how long it took her to come out at least I feel smarter for not having followed her in. A part of me resents not having a mask, but at the same time, I'd stand out like a girl dressed in white.

I wait until whisper is far enough away from the ladies room for my approach not to seem like stalking, and then move half in front of her so she can get around me if she wants but if not she can stop and I can go from there. "Hey, you wanna dance a little, or even just talk?" The music is still loud, a saving grace, but my own music is still turned off. I want to wait for that.

Whisper looks at me, or at least it looks like she is. The shadow over her eyes obscures most of her face in a way that makes it nearly impossible to tell exactly where they're looking. It also doesn't help that she's so small, not freakishly small, and not young . . . though she doesn't look older. She just has the small petite look, sort of like a china doll, only not as pale. She sort of reminds me of Dust, only not as mischievous, more lonesome looking.

She doesn't respond, but her posture just screams that she's waiting for more. She doesn't keep walking so that's a good sign. I never really remember Whisper talking before and even then I only really heard it in my head.

Hopefully her voice is not like Aura's scent.

Reaching down into my pocket I hold out a small package of silver foil about as big as a stick of gum. "I've got somethin' special if you're in the mood to just relax . . . don't need to say anything if you want, just nod, bob, I'm not picky . . ."

Whisper shrugs, but she doesn't step away. She just keeps standing after shrugging, is that a yes? Well, if it's not at least it's not a no.

Shrugging myself, I smile and pull a little green triangular pill out to her placed on the tip of my finger. I still haven't stopped swaying and dancing, but this kind of music doesn't demand you to be shaking like a sprinkler system.

Finally she responds in a straight forward way, but all she does is shake her head before pointing over in a limp, sleepy way to a girl throwing up in the corner and shaking as if she was in the middle of an ice storm. The room is a little bit too hot and humid, so that is one hell of a bad trip. It's easy enough to tell that Whisper isn't in the mood to cough up her cookies.

"Oh, I understand that, not a fan of . . . that either." My stomach twists and I have to put a hand over my stomach to quiet it. "Not a big talker, not big on the scene, well . . ." I smile a little more and flick the pill up before returning it to the foil, and then my pocket. "Maybe we should just get some drinks? Not drink too much though, so you don't end up doubling over?"

Another shrug is all I get. She doesn't ask me to come with her, but she doesn't tell me to leave. That's more or less the same thing. The seat she chooses is off to the side away from everyone else and there is a seat with my name on it right beside hers.

She looks so adorable when she hops her tiny little self up onto the stool, and her skirt even flares up as she does. It makes her look smaller somehow - the skirt. It looks like something a little girl would wear.

Of course I follow her up. Skirts look adorable on little women like her, and it makes me ache for a lost skirt with white trim. I really hope I can pull this off. Aura was luck, and luck twice in a row is not something that happens to anyone besides children, fools, and chimney sweeps. Whisper is no Mary Pippins. "I can order us a pair of drinks, somethin' sweet if you want?"

Whisper smiles, and it's a small smile, almost timid. Her mouth finally moves and . . . long island ice tea for me. You'll ask for the braintwister special. And pay for both. but there's no sound. There never is any sound. The music isn't on, and that might be a good idea. I might as well get her the drink though, she looks like the kind of girl who gets what she wants, and I don't know where but I know someone told me good things about the braintwister. Must have been Caress or Aura, I don't know who else it would have been.

Damn it. I've barely been here and I've made a mistake. I didn't even start the faux pas this quickly with Aura. Reaching back on my way to the bar I click on the tunes. No one else will hear they're on, I tested that to make sure. Hopefully reading lips is easier than everyone makes it sound.

"Be right back, cutie . . ." I smile at my dark haired slut before winking and facing the bar. Maybe I know I could slip something into her drink, and I'd planned that. It was my plan b. I still have a C, but only if things get really desperate.

"What'll it be?" The bartender, an older looking woman, asks while cleaning a glass in a very stereotypical fashion. Stereotypes really do seem to crop up in Midas. I can't really hear her, but words like that, I don't even have to guess.

The buds work well enough for normal voices so I can only hope that holds up. The cord isn't even easy to see. "Long island ice tea, and a braintwister special!" Reaching down into my pocket I pull out the cash, and by the time I've laid the money down the tall glass of ice and alcohol is ready. My drink is too, a rainbow concoction inside of a martini glass.

The bartender says something like enjoy, but I can tell she's much more concerned about the money. Can't say I blame her. I look just like a horny little raver girl, but that's only half true.

I glance over to see if Whisper is looking, but I can't tell. It doesn't seem like it, so I take the chance. After all, if this doesn't work then I'm a lot lower on my options for what I can do. Whisper might not be the type to give a girl a second chance at anything. I wish I had all of my options with me, but all I have is some Icarus powder.

Named after the Grecian, it's fairly innocent in most uses. All it does is make light much more fascinating. Of course, in a place like this, or when used by a girl with a pendant like mine, the uses become a lot less innocent. I sprinkle just a little in, and then head back to the table. Whisper is just staring ahead. I doubt she even looked over to watch me - she knew I would get her drink and I doubt that anything else matters to her at the moment.

Smiling with hooded eyes I place her drink in front of her, and then mine in front of me. The braintwister looks worth the buy even if it tastes awful.

Whisper nods softly in response, and slowly runs a single fingertip around the rim of my glass . . . and then dips it in, swirling it around once, twice, three times . . . The colors spin and twirl around almost dizzyingly before her finger reaches up towards my lips.

I'm not about to stop her, to anyone else it would just seem hot, sexual, and I have to seem just like one of them. I can't seem like someone aware of her intent. Even now she must be sizing me up. Does she sell random encounters, or is each woman handpicked by all five of them? It doesn't matter either way at the moment, so I simply part my lips just enough to pout them, and hope that the name of the drink is underachieved.

When her finger touches my lips, I can feel just how strong it is. It's strong enough to make all of my taste buds ache and not in a bad way. It's sweet like schnapps. Her finger doesn't stop when it's dry, it just dips right back into the drink, and comes back looking like something out of a kaleidoscopic candy cane . . . And this time I can tell her finger is heading straight for the middle of my parted lips.

I've been drunk before, and just a slight memory of the three days after my skin turned pink . . . and the week on the road that my left leg wasn't able to stay straight enough to ride Sylvia . . . but I just grin and ready myself for her finger, for the taste, more eager than I want to admit.

Her finger slides in, and the taste coats over the inside of my mouth, thick like syrup but so much stronger, tangy, and it makes all of my toes curl. I can feel it in the back of my head, so hard, pulling me towards it, and it makes all of the little hairs all over my body left from when I was silver want to stand on end.

It also makes me want to lick and suck her finger until it's clean clean, but lucky for me I'd already been planning on indulging that desire.

My tongue slides all along the sweet tasting skin as I suckle, delicate but frenzied, and goddess I wish that there was room for being a lush in my lifestyle. Moments like this would be more than worth the lack of control but it wouldn't be responsible.

Even as her finger slides out, Whisper's other hand is already raising up my glass and tipping the drink to my lips. The way she holds it makes it swirl, and it reminds me of . . . a nebula, a rainbow colored nebula being tipped into my mouth. If I tried to stop her, I'd spill the drink everywhere, but I don't want to do that anyway. It's such a gorgeous drink, and that would cause a scene. As long as she's not whispering anything into my mind I'm fine anyway. A club wouldn't sell a mind controlling drink, or I would have heard about it.

I just tip back my neck and ready myself for the onslaught of inebriation. Delicately I slide my hand along the offering hand and up her arm appreciatively. A little tender touch can go a long way, and can be very disarming. Plus, if I need to, I can give her hand a good shove . . .

It's so thick . . . strong . . . so strong that I can feel my eyes blurring and crossing. It's not sharp or bitter, it's just sweet, sweet like pure sugar being melted into me from the atomic level, a pure sugar nebula, galaxy, poured and sliding thickly right into my mouth. It's so Sweet, so syrupy and good, that I let my eyes roll back and my eyelids flutter

It doesn't burn going down, it just feels warm like coffee or hot chocolate, and makes me feel more alert to the taste rather than less. The wet finger plays over my hair, and around one of my ears as the drink just keeps pouring, sliding down . . . It's soooo good.

I've never had a drink like this before. Schnapps isn't anything even close to this. I'll need to find out how they make this. It's just so good, so pretty and warm and it burns only the senses.

Her finger keeps moving, but it . . . it doesn't catch the cord it . . . it pops it out, and it's, god, it's like knowing my parachute just got a hole, that my breaks just broke, that . . . relax . . . don't worry about it . . . finish your drink . . . And the hole, the breaks, that's bad but . . . it doesn't seem like she's talking and . . . that's good, right . . .?

Maybe I missed something, or maybe I didn't miss something but things are still going well. I'm still all right, and hey, I still have a warning switch, just incase. Just gotta salvage this, not show fear, just keep mming and melting into the drink. I just need to relax and finish my drink, show her that not only am I not afraid, but that everything feels good and sweet. It does feel really good, and it is very relaxing. I'd hate to waste a good drink like this.

Stupid little raver bitch . . . most girls are at least smart enough to turn it on before talking to me . . . but don't worry . . . don't worry at all . . . you can't even remember why you're here . . . you're having a great time though . . . was it a dare from the punker chicks? They like to watch me haze the new girl. The drink is so nice, so warm and it's all done but the world is fuzzy . . .

Loud music in one ear, music is pumping from the bar, and then there's her . . . is she talking or is that just my imagination? It's giving me one hell of a headache though, but at least I can still relax.

But . . . maybe if I latch onto my music, onto the song, for even a split second, make the words and the song combine, maybe I'll be okay . . . but I'm already starting to get drunk, and horny. The two are always inclusive . . . mutually? Not sure. That sounds sorta silly when I'm just talking about me . . . I still have a panic button though, but I can't remember what it was . . . Was it breaking the glass? it is empty now . . . and . . . oh, it was a dare, I can barely remember what it was, who it was with . . .

Was it a dare with myself, with the bartender . . .? Damn booze and pretty music in one ear, hard bass beat in the other . . .

Having a great time. Don't remember anything though. Great time. Now, you're going to go to the bartender, and order a drink named 'my pussy is getting fucked so hard my eyes are crossing' and when the bartender tries to understand you, it's going to feel just like that's happening . . . but you'll still want that drink . . . and it'll just get worse, and worse, and worse, until you're on the bar counter, bucking madly and tearing at your clothes.

And when you finally finish . . . you'll find yourself tired, drowsy, wasted, incredibly wasted. And you won't know where you are . . . but for the rest of the night . . . You do know you can only say yes to what people want you for, because you'll cum so hard, you'll have just cum the ability to turn people down right out of you. Just sexually of course . . . nothing worse than that. I'm not mean

Nice girl, the nice, sweet girl is brushing my hair back, and she leans up, her soft mouth against my neck. She's not saying a word, just rubbing her mouth against my neck, so, so nice . . . and then she kisses my cheek . . . and I know I have to go to the bar.

There's a drink I want . . . no . . . a drink I need.

A small part of me thinks I should have planned something out better, but . . . I . . . Don't know what that is? It gives me a headache to focus on, and I don't want to harsh my buzz. The buzz is way more important than a migraine.

Just thinking of getting that drink though, that just makes me shudder. Grinning at whisper I raise up and wiggle my fingers at her with a little smile . . . and then walk up to that pretty bartender. I wonder how her lips would taste all covered in that drink I want. "I need a . . . my pussy is getting fucked so hard my eyes are crossing . . .?" Goddess, I want that drink a lot, and I know I'll just keep asking till I can get my hands on some, and then get it right down my throat.

Mmm my eyes already want to cross after saying that . . . some fleeting thought says I should have used my panic button sooner, but what was it anyway?

" . . . What . . .?" The pretty bartender just looks at me, disbelieving, stupid eyed confused . . . And god, her saying that really does make me feel that pounding, that feels so good it feels . . . spiritual! I whimper, whining as I let my eyes cross a little, mewling. Out of the corner of my eye I see Whisper get up and leave. Awww . . . I was hoping she'd stay . . .

Nnnn . . . pounding so hard, I'll have to remember this, keep it deep in my mind, deeper than whatever I forgot, so I can get this drink, ask for it every fucking night . . . "I neeeeeeeeed a my pussy is getting fucked so hard my eyes are crossing!" God they already are crossing, and that pounding . . .

Mmmm, and even being drunk off my ass doesn't make it feel any less hot!

"Your pussy is what?!" The bartender sounds so disbelieving and I just can't believe she's never heard of one! "Are you okay? You look uh . . . a little tipsy . . ." God so spiritual, like if a goddess is just spreading my legs, bending me over . . . divinity . . . and showing me that the heavenly truly know what to do when it comes to aaany kind of horizontal sports . . .

My mouth just opens so wide, lips twisting as just sound pours out, not words, not meaning, just hot needy sound! "uuh . . . Neeeeeeeeed a my pussy is getting fuuuuuuuucked so hard my eyes are crossiiiiiiiing. . .!" Whining, my sounds turn into just a long slow whine at the burst, the sobbingly good feeling. My eyes are so crossed they feel like they're touching each other, lips quivering and aching! Ooh . . "Ssssssssoooo maaaaa-uh-ch . . .!"

" . . . What . . . are you . . . are you having a seizure?" She steps away, god what little I can see shows her walking away . . . It's like white light, white light pounding into me, filling me, making me feel stars inside of me, making my legs just wanna collapse . . .

How am I staaanding?! So close, I don't know how long it usually takes to turn into a super nova but this feels a thousand times quicker, oh and it's just words, just hot sweet pretty needy words that are making me feel just soo soo beyond good . . . beyond anything.

But I can't remember anything else, I just know . . . I just know this is better than anything I've ever forgot, ever knew to forget, and ever haven't known! "Just . . . really . . . you ever . . . really needed a drink . . . you know . . . a my pussy is being fucked so haaaaard my eyes are crossing? I mean . . . getting . . . getting . . . oo . . . ooooh!" Goddess I'm going to, going to just . . . going to just explode, going to light on fire so soon, gotta hold out just to make it better, grind against the counter, press my tits down on it and grind out, let the pretty bartender see . . . "Really . . . need . . . need!"

"Fuck lady! Have any drink you want!" She's moving away, going to the other side of the bar to move away . . . I just want my drink! Oh she doesn't understand it, she doesn't see the stars, she doesn't see the whole galaxy bursting inside of my pussy, fucked so hard that my eyes are crossing over each other . . . explosions behind my eyes, in my breasts, heat just burning through me, pounding, building and pounding like a hot atomic bomb!

I just need . . . just a little more . . .and then it'll be over. It'll be right over the edge, pouring into the lake, pouring . . . somewhere . . .! "Ooooh pleeeease just a my pussy is getting fucked so hard my eyes are crossing . . . just a . . . a dr . . . droooop . . .!" Might be enough, might be enough, so much enough I can't stand it!

Oh . . . goddess . . .!

My own voice is so loud, so sharp, so strong that I can almost feel my ears pop for good, for ever, all just gone! Is security around me? Goddess . . . I can't feel it all . . . it all just turns into a glaze . . . a . . .

Slickness . . . a lot of . . .slickness . . . so much slickness . . . and . . . girls' voices and . . .

The sun is beaming down on my face, right into my eyes. I don't know all that happened, but it's so much brighter. I know it's the next day, it was already pitch black out when I went in.

I am so sore. Very sore. Every part of me feels dirty, and slick. Only two images are really in my head still. One, is Whisper, just barely, almost, I can feel, see, think I hear . . . saying something . . . something about how most girls aren't stupid enough to wait till she talks to turn it on, and another, is her finger, suckling . . .

They feel more important than the rest of the night . . . which . . . I'm thankful for, really thankful for. The taste in my mouth is horrible. I want to pull it out of my face and wash it for an hour. I need a shower and my clothes . . . oh fucking . . . I'm not even wearing the same clothes that I was last night!

At least I don't have too bad of a hangover, and the sun is helping me remember why I went in there in the first place . . . damned fuzzy brain finally able to think again, even if thinking makes me feel sore.

I am so glad I can't remember all of what happened, and the ringing in my ears . . . I'm just thankful that I'm not deaf! Aura should have taught me a lesson. No being nice. No hoping stupid plans work.

Fuck plans. Plans are too easy to be ruined. None of my off the cuff situations needed plans, and Whisper . . . god she really is hot, and that finger . . . I couldn't talk with it in there but . . . oh god! That's perfect! The answer, it's so clear!

But the only way to stop thinking about the amalgam of fluids in my mouth is to make a little pit stop. Shower, a shopping trip, and then I need to go back to Nevermore . . .

I'm back in the club again, with a new idea. It's a similar outfit, my hair is the same, my eyes are the same . . . but this time I'm in pants. They still have a tattered look, but they're a little baggy so they can hide the cargo I brought with me. I have new ear buds, but they're just to cover up for the plugs I have underneath them. That'll give me a little bit more time.

This time, I just dance. Trying to keep with the beat and rhythm of the women around me is a little tricky since I can't hear the music. I can feel it though, and that helps. This time, instead of waiting for her to come out of the bathroom, I'm watching her out of the corner of my eye, and waiting for her to go in.

Whisper doesn't look worried, or upset, or like she even cares. She just drinks, looks around slowly . . . and eventually heading for the ladies room. She's probably expecting me to just slink away with my tail between my legs, not remembering a thing . . . Then again, she's probably sure if I tried anything then she could stop me easily enough. Normally, that would be a good assessment. I'm not a succubus. I need to acknowledge that.

This time, I'm much better equipped.

As soon as the door closes I get ready to follow her. I'm two levels of deaf this time, and my ears are still ringing even through the angst-laden music being blasted through the buds. I can't hear through the plugs, but it's something to imagine hearing.

After I walk in, I look first at the door. No luck. That's all right. There aren't a lot of women in here, but there are enough that I still need to show a little bit of subtlety but not a lot. Whisper hasn't earned any. It's more for my own sake. There aren't too many women in here for me to change my style. Not plan, style. If something goes wrong, it's not rigid. I came equipped.

Since I don't see Whisper, I have to wait for the stall door she's behind to open. That's okay. I have time. There are more than a couple pairs of feet, and one girl doing her makeup, or . . . touching up a tattoo? Well, if she's touching it up without stabbing herself it's not a tattoo it's body art. I might need to try that to give Lucia a defining mark or two.

If no one was about to stop me from practically fucking the bar, then no one is going to stop me now as long as I'm careful. This is made even more true by Whisper's reputation. If enough women have been fucked like she likes to fuck, they're a lot more likely to turn away and smile despite themselves.

I'm hoping for that, but I have no qualms with dulling any interference.

One hand slides down into my pants to wrap my fingers around my gift for the little miscreant. I just need to wait for the stall to open, lock us in, and then give her the gift. It's just a matter of time.

The stall door opens, and Whisper starts to walk out. Her head is tilted down in a shy way, and it looks like she's staring down at the floor. I can't tell if there is any noise in here or not, but it seems quiet and still, almost a sacred place even if one of those stalls was just filled with something profane.

Shove.

One hand to the middle of her chest, only as much pressure as I need to use her own movement and surprise against her, enough so I can lock the door shut. "Hello." I make sure to whisper it. I know to me everything will seem like silence, so being quiet is a must.

She looks surprised, and her skirt flares forward as she ends up falling down hard onto the toilet seat. The shadow in front of her eyes goes away, and she looks so startled. She might be saying something, but I can't see her mouth move. Even still she tries to reach for my headphones. The grin on my face must be disarming. I hope it is.

I'll let her try and talk, just enough to get her lips to part. "You know, Caress looked about as scared as you. Till she started cuming." I pull the ball gag out of my pants right when her lips move, but keep it behind my back until I'm straddling her. Then in one swift movement, just like the one that shoved that dizzy scent, I thrust it into her mouth. I just need to hold it in her mouth long enough to get it locked into place behind her head.

Goddess, I love how Midas is just full to the brim of useful shops.

She's too busy trying to get the buds out of my ears to even realize what's happening until the metal clicks into place. Her hands pull away, desperately, to try and yank it off. Her "sisters" were bigger, and Caress had the physique of a fighter.

Whisper is just a small little woman, and not even a very strong one.

Keeping the smile off of my face would be as impossible, as impossible as it would be not to stroke her face, arch against her . . . and then whisper into her. "Caress tried struggling, but a lot harder . . . Aura bucked a lot harder, but bucking is just one letter off from fucking, and we all know how much Aura just loves to do that."

Grinning a little more, I pull her hands away from the strap and pin them back against the stall. It's close enough that even with her short little arms she's not over stretched. It puts my lips right next to her ears, too. "Did someone put you up to this? Mmm, you loved breaking me in, I'll love shattering you . . ." I love the affect a good line can have, and it makes me feel so strong, so in control. This isn't like with Aura, this is like with Caress. This is good.

This must be how Dust felt like all those times, The Lady felt like, even Pink . . .

Whisper doesn't stop fighting, but she has no leverage and her one weapon isn't loaded. She can't say a single word, and she's not used to that, not used to this. Her eyes scream the begging words that I wouldn't be able to hear if she spoke them anyway. Her hair seems so messy and matted now only after struggling for maybe half a minute. She's so easily pinned, and I think that maybe binding pretty little girls in just the positions I want is something I should make my day job if I ever hang up the mask.

"See, like this . . . powerless . . . a girl starts to do one of two things . . . She fights . . ." I lean in closer to her, and nip her ear just enough for her to feel it. ". . . but you can't fight. The other option . . . is to flee . . ." I squeeze her wrists and press my warm body into hers. She's warm too, even if she's shivering. "But you can't do that either . . . That . . . leaves surrender . . . succumbing to the elements around you . . . and I think that's where you're at right now, or on your way. Nod for me if you understand. I know you can't . . . whisper."

Her mouth moves around the gag angrily. It might be loud to anyone that could hear her, but even like this, without the meaning behind the sounds, she's powerless . . . but she's not down yet. Her feet, cute little feet in black polished Mary Jane's, start to kick and smack into me as hard as they can into my knees and shins. She might not be strong, but she is a fierce little thing.

It would be cute if it didn't sting. Even still, it's nothing but an annoyance. Grinning I pull my own feet back, to try and stomp them down on top of hers, or pin them against the toilet. It's only a matter of time before she can't struggle any more. She only has so much adrenalin. "You know, one of us is just a mischievous brat, the other can actually hold her own in a bar fight. I'd rather let you enjoy this. I really would. I want to. I don't even want to give you any bad reactions . . . but if you can't be a good girl, then bats won't be the last of your worries . . ."

Oh, sudden flashbacks are so convenient. I hadn't even remembered what she'd screamed about bats until I'd already said it. It feels like I have the mask on even though I don't. I love these moments so much.

She doesn't give up. I'll give her that. She keeps kicking and squirming, trying to scream, but all she can really do is wiggle annoyingly. It's cute, but even I can't put up with it forever.

Suddenly I wish I'd taken pressure point training seriously. Someone or another kept trying to teach it to me once. It hadn't been in a class, it had been after I was going out on patrols. I wish I knew how to get a hold of her . . . "Fine . . . Fine."

Quickly and firmly I slide both of her wrists into one of my hands and shove them harder against the wall before starting to pull a small packet out of my pants. It's a lot like a fake blood capsule, break it open and it pours out so easily. With how quick I'm going through my supplies I know by the time I'm done with the doctor I'll need to find out where the Midas black market operates so I can get some supplies and shut it down at the same time.

Carefully I snap open the container and pour it over my hand before securing it over Whisper's nose and mouth. The effect pushes the ball more firmly against her, and it might hurt a little, but it will make her need to breathe through her nose more, and that's just what I need right now.

It's just a little Icarus Powder, nothing too special. What's special, and just dumb luck, is that we're in a stall with a light directly over my head . . . and no one stole Lida's pendant last night.

Huh. It must have some kind of protection, or enchantment, or . . .

Whisper breathes it in, deep. She doesn't try to, and I can feel her nose flaring like a horse as her body keeps twitching and shaking, but soon enough more powder is in her nose than over my hand and that's all I needed.

Her feet start kicking at the walls to get someone's attention, but I just pin them back against the toilet with mine. The good thing abut her struggling so roughly is that once she stops, she won't be able to struggle for a long time. That cute little body of hers will be so exhausted, and I'll make sure to kiss every little sore spot better while she whispers her own mind away.

It finally occurs to me that I have to be able to hear if anyone is coming to be able to daze them in time. The gag is tight enough in her mouth, and shortly she won't be thinking much about thinking at all. Her feet are finally trapped, and with a smile I reach up with the powdered hand to pull the buds out of my ears, and hold them in front of her. "I don't need these . . .

My chest arches out, and it's another low swooping top, with the same very, very sparkling pendant." But just keep breathing, letting those lungs do their pretty job, and this will get a lot . . . prettier . . ."

I pry out the plugs, and things are still ringing. Things are too loud, but I can hear her mumbling and groaning just fine. Her eyes are already focusing on my breasts, and on the pendant nestled right between them. She's trying to struggle, still, her lips pull back for a moment, fall limp and then . . . she actually stays still.

"Like these . . .? You can get a lot closer, and get a lot more, if you just let yourself relax. Just . . . watch. Suck on the ball if you want, let your mind work . . . Imagine that ball being something a little . . . softer . . ." Sighing I let my free hand slide back up to take one of her wrists, one wrist per hand again, holding her there, stroking her wrists . . . It makes it easier for me to control the way the above light shines down on my sparkling assets as much as having the plugs out makes it easier for me to control my voice.

My fingertips stroke her wrists softly, smoothly as I sway just enough to make the light's reflection off of my pretty silver pendant shimmer and pulse . . . The way she moves, I can tell that it almost feels like it's pulling, pulling something inside of her eyes as if they were iron, and my pendant was a magnet. The surrounding view can't hurt.

Sparkling, looking down at it almost makes me feel a little dizzy, and her eyes turn from fearful to just wide, almost lax . . . Her jaw isn't quivering anymore. All over, she's starting to look softer and gentler.

It's such a nice effect to watch play out across her features. On a glance down at my chest I realize there's one good thing that came out of my own fright and struggle. Little beads of sweat here and there over my cleavage are catching the light almost as well as the pendant. The way they twinkle really seems to be better about drawing attention to the pendant, and that makes me quiver. "Just relax, and watch . . . you don't need to be afraid of me, all you did was play with me, after all . . . Maybe I just want to play back, just want to give you a fun little show . . . Only a night to remember, instead of forget . . ."

Her eyes follow the sweat down to the pendant, and all of her . . . she sighs, and I can watch her internal struggles deflate just like a balloon as watching the pendant starts to pull her down with it, as she just watches it rise and fall, sway and be rubbed up against by those pretty little droplets.

She's such a pretty little dark haired balloon, too. Slowly I pull back to let the pendant shine brighter, and then arch to let it bounce just for a moment, closer as I stroke down along her arms, pulling them down to her waist, slowly gently. I can still pin her to the wall if I need to, but I don't think that's anything besides an afterthought to her by now. She might not even feel it.

"It's nice to have some fun for a while . . . Must imagine what it would be like, to just lose yourself inside a pretty pair of breasts . . . or a pretty silver pendant? They both have their allure, and you get both at once . . . and more . . . once you relax. All you need to do, to get everything you want, and more, to learn what it is you really want . . . is to just relax. I promise . . ."

Whisper relaxes, sighing, melting forward more each and every moment as her eyes hood and her body squirms, just faintly, just a little . . . There are so many little things that could detract from this moment, the coldness of the porcelain, the plastic in her mouth. . . but right now, I can tell, they're not half as important as the surrender.

Slowly I grasp her wrists to pull them around my back and have them meet in the middle of my waist. I keep stroking her wrists and along her arms soothingly as I wiggle on top of her to let both of us get a little bit more comfortable. "See . . . it's not so bad . . . not so bad at all . . . it's just some kinky fun, that you get to ride instead of direct for once . . . and you know how easy it is to . . ." Sighing, I rest my lips right against her ear, and whisper in as sweetly as I can, "lose your mind to a whisper, don't you? Nod for me, sweetie . . . nod so I can know you understand, and nod because understanding, relenting, submitting to the truth . . . will feel so much better."

She nods, so soft and slowly, and I can feel the last of her resistance fall away as her face nestles into my chest with her eyes still locked on the pendant.

"Good girl . . ." I pull a hand back to slowly, delicately trace over her hair, and she slouches more against me. "We're going to go to a friend's house now, a very special friend's house . . . And the two of us, and two of your friends . . . are going to help you sink even deeper . . . and you like how that sounds, don't you?"

With another weak sigh, Whisper nods again, and I smile. She looks so cute and helpless like this, but I think I'll keep the gag in her mouth until we get home, just in case.