Someone once said that success breeds success. But it has another child, this one named Notoriety. During my stay in Megapolis, I have been successful. As Ms. Marvelous, I have defended the weak against the malignant tyranny of the strong and the good against the lecherous persecution of the evil. I have derailed crime and flustered criminals. I have stopped robberies and rapes and murders, I have kept drugs off the streets and I have put thugs in jail. I have fought for the little guy while finding a way to slip a bit of hope back into the lives of people who want nothing more than to live in peace. My true identity is a closely held secret, but the citizens of this great city have come to know me as their friend and protector. My red and black costume is a symbol of hope for those that seek justice and a symbol of fear for those that would do wrong. The star on my chest is an emblem of good in a world that sometimes seems to know only evil.
But fame has a way of drawing attention from unwanted sources. Sometimes, these sources turn out to be good. Sometimes, they are evil. More often than not, they represent something inbetween. Such was the case on a particularly warm Saturday in August.
The events of this day had been initiated by Joel Reiner, a reporter on the city desk of the Megapolis Gazette. I had first met Joel after preventing a robbery of the First National Bank in lower downtown. It hadn’t been much, really. The three crooks involved were disorganized and sloppy. I had simply swept in, avoided a few shots, and easily disarmed them by kicking their guns out of their hands. After knocking one of the thugs unconscious with a spinning heel kick, the other two quickly realized the hopelessness of their situation and gave up. It was a piece of cake.
But Joel, who had been waiting in the teller line to deposit a check, thought it was the most exciting thing he had ever seen. In the couple of minutes it took for the police to arrive and take the would-be robbers off of my hands, Joel raved how great I was-How spectacular I had been and how beautiful I was, and-well, you get the idea. He promised that the Gazette would run a story, and sure enough it was there on page three the next day. “Superheroine Foils Bank Robbery”.
Joel exclaimed my virtues in the article, detailing not only the incident in the bank but also some of my other, better known, accomplishments. He finished the column by practically begging for an interview-“Please, Ms. Marvelous, if you read this then call me, day or night.” At first, I was uncomfortable with the praise and unsure if it would be a good idea to fulfill his request. My desire to protect my identity is paramount. But it occurred to me that it might also not be such a good idea to encourage, through inaction, a smart reporter like Joel Reiner to investigate Ms. Marvelous on his own. Instead, I needed to control the situation. It might also be a good thing, I decided, to have someone like Joel on my side. Not that I desired any more publicity, but I figured that a reporter could be a valuable source of information.
So I called him from a public phone and agreed to an interview. We met at midnight, at a secluded location near docks. He came alone, as promised. At first, he seemed almost giddy, laughing and giggling a little too much and thanking me over and over for agreeing to meet with him. Though he was thirty-six years old, Joel was acting like a nervous teenager in love. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was completely infatuated with me. I was somewhat embarrassed by this-- more so, I suppose, because I was standing in front of him wearing a costume that leaves little to the imagination-but I thought his schoolboy crush would probably work to my advantage.
But when the pleasantries were finished and we started talking business, the serious side of Joel’s personality emerged. Despite his feelings for me, Joel Reiner was a professional. He wanted interviews, pictures, a life story-everything short of my real name. In fact, he gave me the distinct impression that he didn’t ever want to know my true identity. In Joel’s eyes, the mystery was the thing. Were my name to become known, the romanticism that surrounded my life as a superheroine would be lost. Whether this opinion was the result of the serious, hard- nosed reporter side of his personality, or rather the side that lusted for my bones, I really can’t say, but I soon came to the conclusion that Joel viewed everything about me-my secret identity, my costume, my beauty-as an exciting turn-on.
To Joel, I was a fantasy come true. I wasn’t a normal woman, rather, far from it. I wasn’t like the girls he met at work and in the bars. I wasn’t like the girls he dated and slept with. In fact, I wasn’t like any of the girls he had ever known. As I stood in front of him, the lightly tanned skin of my five foot, nine inch, athletically built frame shimmering in the bright moonlight, wearing a skin-tight costume, my identity hidden behind a mask, I was something completely different. I was something new, something exciting. I was something he desired, but more than that, I was something that he could use.
To Joel the reporter, I was a way to sell newspapers, a gimmick. In his eyes, my costume, which to so many had become a symbol of justice, represented a few hundred more subscriptions. The star on my chest, an emblem of hope, was a few more quarters plunked into the Gazette vending machines. To Joel, my blonde hair and bare midriff were a few more full-page ads in the Sunday edition.
But I wouldn’t be exploited. And to Joel’s credit, he never pushed too hard, never threatened to investigate on his own and expose me. I sensed that he wasn’t a bad man. He said he wouldn’t print lies about me, and I believed him. We eventually came to an agreement, though it was for much less than he hoped. I wouldn’t give any interviews, but I would occasionally provide Joel with the details of incidents for which he had no other sources, such as my conflicts with the Reavors. I would also make the occasional appearance at Gazette sponsored events, but only if I thought the events would do some good for the people of Megapolis. In return, Joel promised to provide me with any information about criminal activities that he happened to come across.
All in all, I thought it was a fair deal and we shook on it. As our hands came together, Joel reverted back to his schoolboy like demeanor, squeezing and holding onto my hand a bit too long, giggling and blushing until I pulled it away. I took to the sky, leaving him behind me and hoping that I hadn’t made a big mistake. But in the days to come, Joel began feeding me tips that paid off almost immediately. Through information that he provided, I was able to intervene on a couple of minor drug deals and bust up a child pornography ring.
I didn’t see Joel again until several weeks later, at which point it was my turn to follow through on our agreement. I agreed to make an appearance at an event in City Park. Sponsored by the Gazette, the event was for the purpose of promoting the local Megapolis “Say Nope To Dope” anti-drug campaign. It was Saturday, which meant I didn’t have to take time off from work, and it was for a good cause-I didn’t have an excuse not to do it. So feeling as nervous as I ever had combating criminals, I descended out of the clear, afternoon sky and landed lightly on the temporary wooden stage that had been set up in the middle of the park.
A crowd of several dozen people had gathered in front of the stage. I didn’t know how many of them were there just to see me, but my attendance at the event had been advertised in the Gazette and I figured that the enthusiasm I heard in the applause was probably a good sign. Still, I was very nervous.
Fighting thugs is one thing, speaking before an audience is quite another.
A number of city dignitaries stood on the stage. Joel Reiner was behind the podium, clapping and pointing as I touched down beside him. It was as if he were saying to everyone in attendance, “See-I told you she would come!” I couldn’t blame him, really. It’s not every reporter that can claim to have a superheroine as a friend. He shook my hand and smiled, though this bit of reassurance did little to calm my nerves. He pulled me to the podium, his arm draped around my shoulder.
“Everybody! It’s my pleasure to present to you a true hero and a crusader for justice-A woman that has personally taken it upon herself to combat crime and drugs in our city-Ms. Marvelous!”
Joel ran his hand from my shoulder down across my bare back and rested it on my hip. I
rewarded his transgression with a quick jab of my elbow to his ribs that made him yelp. The light blow was hidden from the view of the audience by the podium in front of us, but several of the dignitaries behind us saw it and began laughing. Joel rubbed his side and laughed, too, then nudged me gently to the side of the podium. He removed the microphone from its holder and handed it to me. It was clear that Joel didn’t want me behind the podium-He wanted me out in front, in full view of the audience.
The applause died down-It was time to say something. I took a deep breath and raised the microphone to my lips. “Hello. I’m Ms. Marvelous...”
The quiver in my voice exposed my discomfiture. I remembered the old sage’s advice-When speaking before an audience, overcome stage fright by imagining them in their underwear. It’s good advice, I thought, though the old sage probably didn’t imagine that the speaker herself would be wearing little more than underwear. My costume is made from “unstable molecules”, a nearly indestructible fabric that can survive fire and explosions, is highly resistant to tearing, repels dirt and moisture, and never fades. It’s so lightweight and shear that the entire thing, including my boots and my mask, can fit easily inside a small pill bottle that I keep in my purse. When I remove the costume from the bottle, it comes out wrinkle free and ready to wear. It stretches easily-Custom made for my body, it conforms itself around every curve and angle of my athletic form. It is also an extremely expensive fabric. The production process is difficult. My costume was constructed by a scientist friend back at the Program, but he could only get his hands on a limited amount of the necessary materials. The result was a beautiful, albeit somewhat scanty, uniform.
The costume is mostly red. My arms are covered to their full length-The material covering my hands and forearms is black, giving the illusion that I am wearing gloves. The shoulders, too, are black, as is the star that emblazons my chest. The costume tapers off on either side just below the star, the red fabric joining with my black bikini bottom at the top of my hips and leaving my midriff bare. It does the same in the back, leaving most of my back exposed. My legs are also bare, except for my feet and calves, which are covered by black, heel-less, boots.
I stood at the front of the stage, my powerful body on display for the audience. I was thankful for the black mask that I wear on my face, as it covered the burning blush on my cheeks. I’m proud of my body and like showing it off, but this was somehow different. I’m only twenty-two years old. I’m not an exhibitionist. Standing exposed in front of a crowd of leering strangers isn’t something I am particularly comfortable with.
I don’t know why I was embarrassed-I had no reason to be. I am a hero and these people were my fans. In any case, my identity was a secret. This was not Jody Walker standing half-naked before a crowd of strangers. This was Ms. Marvelous standing before a group of friends, friends that, like her, deeply hated the evil of drugs. As I looked out over the crowd, I saw few leers. As I looked into their eyes, I saw that they were happy just to have me here. For these people, I could sense, I was a symbol of hope. I was an emblem of victory-Victory over drugs and victory over the drug dealers that peddled evil to their children.
Taking strength from their eyes, I put aside my foolish doubts and stood tall beside the podium. If the audience wanted a hero then by god I would give them one. “I have not been in this great city very long,” I stated in a strong voice, “but in the short time that I have been here, I have seen many great evils.
I have seen what drugs can do to people, to their lives, to their families, to the ones they love.
“I have combated this evil using my powers-I have destroyed millions of dollars worth of drugs. I have put dozens of dope dealers out of business. But I can’t do it alone. Our enemy is strong and entrenched. I need your continued help in this battle. We must work together. Not all of us have super powers, obviously. But we must all use the gifts that God has given us. We must use these gifts to combat drugs. We must all say ‘Nope to Dope’!”
The audience cheered. I smiled. My speech had been short and uninspired, but on this day, in this setting, had been somehow appropriate. It was what they wanted to hear-That progress was being made, that victories were being won. They didn’t want to hear the truth, that drugs were overwhelming Megapolis, that certain parts of the city had been virtually taken over by criminals. No, this was not a time for hard truth. It was a time to build morale and keep up the faith.
Things don’t always work out as planned, though. Even while the crowd still cheered, a menacing force intruded on our celebration. Even while the dignitaries behind me slapped one another on the back, an old enemy, once thought a friend, closed in upon us. And even as Joel Reiner cried out in warning-- too late-- our joyous celebration was transformed into an event of confusion and mayhem.
They attacked first from my right, though in fact they had surrounded the crowd and would soon approach from all angles. Clad in the dark fighting suits of ninja warriors, their faces covered with masks, the intruders had encircled us unseen and unheard. They were masters of stealth-Even I did not notice them until it was too late.
The leader called out a command and a gun was fired. It was not an ordinary gun, but rather fired a large canister that had been affixed to the end of its barrel. The canister came right for me. Hearing the blast and seeing the quickly approaching canister out of the corner of my eye, I raised my arms to protect myself. Just before impact, though, the canister exploded with a pop, breaking away into several pieces and sending forth a cloud of gas. The cloud enveloped me in its thick, nauseous entrails. I choked on the fumes. My eyes burned. Whatever the stuff was, I discovered, it worked fast.
Feeling weak, but still conscious, I used my flying power to lift me up and out of the poisonous cloud. As I cleared its powerful grip, I hovered momentarily, looking out over the crowd through red, tearing eyes. Chaos reined. Ninjas seemed to be everywhere, some firing additional gas bombs into the audience, some discharging more conventional weapons into the air. Below me, on the stage, city dignitaries lay coughing and helpless on the wooden planks. Joel Reiner was on his knees, clutching the podium, dazed and confused, the same cloud of gas that had held me now preventing him from getting clean air. I took a deep breath and dove headlong back into the cloud until I was beside his choking form. Grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, I leapt again into the air and out of the cloud, this time taking him with me.
We didn’t get far, though. Another canister rifled towards us, exploding right in front of my face. Caught off guard, I took a big gulp of the sticky gas. I tried to hold us aloft, to escape the cloud, but my head was spinning. My throat burned from the noxious fumes. I felt weak, close to blacking out. We tumbled from the air, landing hard on the grass in front of the stage.
Two ninjas quickly jumped me. Grabbing my arms and pulling me to my knees, they forced my hands behind my back and held me securely. They stood over me, one on each side. Weakened by the gas, I was unable to put up much resistance. My head drooped forward, my blond hair hanging down over my face. I felt tired, sick. I wanted to throw up. The smell of the gas seemed to cling to me, like a paste. Joel lay beside me, now unconscious.
I forced my head up and looked out over the park. Bodies lay here and there, people overcome by the gas, piled on one another. Dozens of spectators had been felled, but I could see that dozens more had escaped. No thanks to me, I thought gloomily.
But the good news was that I was no longer in the clutches of a gas cloud. Our tumble from the sky had positioned Joel and myself mostly away from the noxious fumes. Even as the Ninjas gripped tightly to my arms, holding them behind me, I could feel my mind clearing and my strength returning.
“It wasn’t so hard capturing her, after all,” the ninja on my right said to the other. “But what do we do with her now?”
“Tommy wants her trussed up and brought to him at Arbor House. Get the shackles out.”
I allowed my body to hang loosely in the ninjas’ grasp, using the opportunity to shake the effects of the gas. My body recovers quickly-As the second ninja loosened his hold on me and pulled a set of stainless steel shackles from a pouch around his waist, I leapt to my feet and pulled away from him completely. With my left arm free, I ducked, stepping to the side and then back, twisting my right arm loose and pulling the first ninja in front of me. His eyes, visible through his mask, widened in surprise. I struck him solidly with a straight right to the jaw that flattened him.
The second ninja wrapped his right arm around my midriff and frantically tried to fasten a shackle to my left wrist. I didn’t know if the shackles would be strong enough to hold me, but I didn’t want to find out. I pulled my arm away and slid under his grasp, into a crouch, then leapt forward and tackled him. We fell to the ground with me on top and the ninja taking most of the impact on his back. I followed up on my advantage by striking him on the side of his neck with a stiff karate chop and knocking him cold.
I returned to my feet quickly, in a fighting stance, prepared for more of the black clad warriors. They didn’t disappoint me. The first came in aggressively from my left, swinging at me with a haymaker right that I narrowly avoided. I countered with a left hook that sent him flying. A second ninja came from my right, running with full strides before leaping feet first at me. I ducked under his kick and he flew over me, landing several feet away. Before he could turn to face me, I dove at his legs, ripping them from under him and sending him sprawling. He landed hard, on the back of his head. He got up slowly, just in time to receive a leaping front kick to his chest. He slammed violently against the stage and crumpled, out of the fight.
I didn’t have time to admire my work, though. Yet another ninja came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Lifting my off the ground, the ninja placed me in a pretty good reverse bear hug-He squeezed, forcing the air from my lungs and causing me to cry out. “Resistance is pointless!” he shouted at me in a voice I recognized as belonging to the ninja leader. “Surrender now and I will go easy on you!”
His grip was strong. As I grasped his wrists I could feel the strength that they possessed. His fingers were locked together. I felt as if I was caught in a vise. But I’m strong, too. I have the strength of ten men. And I had no intention of surrendering.
Locking my powerful fingers around his forearms, I pulled. At first, nothing happened. The ninja leader was much stronger than his subordinates. But then, suddenly, he grunted and his fingers came apart. With his hands no longer locked together, his arms began to spread. The pressure on my stomach eased and I gulped down some air. I knew I would be free in a moment.
But the ninja leader was smart. Knowing that he couldn’t win in this battle of strength, he bent his knees and dipped down, then straightened up in a single, quick motion. Easily hoisting my one hundred and thirty pound frame over his right shoulder, so that it was horizontal to the ground below, he again had me trapped, this time in a Herculean back-breaker. Experienced with this hold, the ninja leader positioned the point of his shoulder perfectly inside the small of my back, locking me in place. Wrapping his right arm around my chest and his left around my thighs, he pulled downward with all his might, bending me backward across his hard shoulder. I cried out in agony, stunned, and released my grip on his arms.
Waves of pain cascaded up and down my tortured spine as he continued to bend me in ways I wasn’t intended to bend. My left arm lay at my side, wedged between the ninja leader’s neck and my hip. My right arm dangled uselessly behind me. I cried out again as he began bouncing up and down, further increasing the pressure on my back. My head fell limply backward, my blonde hair flopping below.
Blood rushed into my head and my vision blurred. I knew I was near the end. I’m strong and tough, but so was he-The ninja leader was crushing me, man-handling my body as if I was little more than a child in his powerful arms. I knew that if I didn’t do something quick, he would have me.
Forcing my head up, so that I could see, I lifted my left arm over his head and reached around to the opposite side of his face. Grabbing his left ear in fingers that can rend metal, I twisted. The effect was immediate-- The ninja leader screamed in agony, releasing his hold on me and allowing me to slide off his shoulder. I would have fallen to the ground, but I continued to hold on to his ear and used it to support my weight. Landing on shaky legs, I ignored his screams and twisted again. He went to his knees, clutching and scratching at my left hand but completely unable to do anything about my hold on his ear. Finally, I let go, but his respite was brief. A stiff right cross to the left side of his jaw knocked him cold and he fell forward onto his face.
Seeing their leader get smoked, the remaining ninjas didn’t want anything more to do with me. They took off, each in the most convenient direction, using less stealth than when they had arrived. I considered going after them, but thought better of it. The people at the park needed my help and the ninjas I had captured needed watching. The entire battle had taken only a few minutes-police and emergency vehicles would need a few more before they arrived. And in any case, I knew where the escaping ninjas were headed.
I walked back to where Joel lay and knelt beside him. The reporter was recovering from the gas.
“Joel,” I asked as I helped him to his knees, “what is the ‘Arbor House’?” “What?” he replied groggily.
“The Arbor House. I overheard the ninjas saying they were going to the Arbor House. What is it?
Where-“
“Sure, sure. The Arbor House. I know it. Just let me think a moment. My head is still spinning from the gas.” Joel took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hand. “Right-- the Arbor House. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the big house over on the MU campus. Usually occupied by the university president, though this time of year, with school out, it’s probably empty. Beats me why anybody would want to go there.”
“Megapolis University, huh?” I said. “Maybe they’re using it as their headquarters.”
“It’s big enough. A real nice place, too. Big lawn, swimming pool, lots of rooms-You get the idea. But who are these guys?” Joel pointed to the unconscious ninja leader. “What did they want?”
I helped the reporter to his feet and paused before answering. “I don’t know who they are, Joel, but they wanted me. One of the ninjas said their leader is a guy named Tommy. They wanted to capture me and take me to him at the Arbor House.” I waved at the stage and podium behind us. “The publicity surrounding this event made me an easy target.”
“Not easy enough,” he said with a thankful smile.
“No, not easy enough,” I agreed. “But the fight isn’t over, either. If this Tommy guy wants Ms.
Marvelous, he’s going to get Ms. Marvelous. In the flesh!”
The police arrived, swarming into the park in full riot gear. Leaving Joel behind, I took to the air and headed in the direction of Megapolis U. Worrisome thoughts ran through my head. I hadn’t been completely honest with Joel when I said I didn’t know who the ninjas were. Though I wasn’t sure, I had a pretty good idea. The black uniforms, the high-tech equipment, a boss named Tommy-- I hoped I was wrong.
I soon found myself above the empty campus. It was summer vacation-few students and instructors were around. I flew past the various buildings, the library, the business school, the computer lab. I zoomed over the wide bleachers of the football stadium and past the dormitories, continuing westward until I reached a lane of residential homes. The houses were nice, though modest in size. Intended for use by visiting professors and deans, they now stood empty. At the far end of the lane, though, was a much larger house. The house sported a fresh coat of white paint and had a large, green lawn. The trees and shrubs were carefully manicured. Sunlight reflected off a swimming pool in the back. In front, several cars and vans were parked around a curved drive. A white, cobblestone walk led from the drive to the front door. To the right of the walk was a sign, its gold, embossed letters reading “Arbor House”.
I probably should have scoped out the place and learned what I was up against. I probably should have come up with a plan of action. But I was pissed. I admit it. The ninjas at the park had interrupted my moment in the spotlight, my moment of glory, so to speak, and I was mad as hell about it. More than that, they had risked the lives of dozens of people just to get at me. It had been a callus, irresponsible act, and now they were going to pay for it.
I descended, slowing slightly and then turning until I was headed straight at the front of the house. I flew up the walk, past the sign and towards the front door. I accelerated and raised my arms in front of me. The door was large, wide, and wood-The impact was thunderous as I crashed into it. Shards of wood flew inward as the door gave way and was lifted off its hinges. Chunks of it landed here and there inside, casting splinters and dust across the marble paneled floor of the entryway. A larger piece flew farther inward, finally coming to rest at the base of a wide, finely crafted staircase that led upward to the floor above.
The entire front half of the house had been converted, at some time in the past, into a single large room, intended, no doubt, to host parties and other types of formal gatherings. Beyond the marble tiled entryway, on either side, a luxurious carpet covered the floor. Fine pieces of Victorian furniture stood atop the carpet-Chairs and sofas and coffee tables. The walls were decorated with a variety of valuable paintings inside gaudy frames. Sunlight poured into the room through two large bay windows. At the far end of the room stood a large cabinet. Made from cherry wood and delicately crafted, the cabinet contained antique ornaments and mementos from years past, a type of historical record left behind by the line of university presidents that had, each in their turn, lived in the Arbor House.
Into this peaceful setting I now crashed, tumbling across the entryway floor before rolling into a crouched fighting stance just in front of the staircase. A ninja lay at my feet, unconscious. I guessed he had been assigned to guard the front door. Instead, he had ended up eating it.
I heard shouts coming from the back of the house and from upstairs. Darting to my left, into the center of that half of the large room, I positioned myself in a spot on the carpet mostly free of furniture and prepared for battle. A ninja rushed in through a hallway leading to the back of the house. He looked with a startled expression at the remains of the destroyed door and the unconscious guard, then up at me. He hesitated, unsure that he wanted to tackle me on his own. Another ninja joined him. Together, they cautiously approached me.
Three more ninjas came down the stairs. Two hopped over the railing and landed softly on the marble floor. The third hung back and glanced over his shoulder, toward the top of the staircase, as if taking instructions from someone hidden there. A muffled voice said something to the ninja. He nodded in understanding and turned back, looking at me. Without a sound, he raised his hand and signaled the others the circle me.
I stood warily as the four ninjas spaced themselves about me. One picked up a chair and tossed it aside, making more room. The ninja on the stairs dropped his hand, signaling for his subordinates to attack.
The ninja that had moved the chair took a step forward and fired a high kick at my head with his right foot. I blocked the kick with my arm and caught his foot in my left hand. I pushed upward, sending the foot high in the air and flipping him over backward. He landed on a coffee table, smashing a lamp that stood atop it. The table gave way under his weight and he crashed to the floor.
A second ninja attacked from my left, sliding in low and catching the back of my legs with a welltimed spinning leg sweep. I fell hard on my butt but recovered quickly by doing a reverse somersault that left me in a crouched stance. He stabbed at me with a punch that I blocked, but then brought his right knee up and caught me solidly on the forehead. I fell backward and came to rest at the base of a leather ottoman recliner.
The ninja was a good fighter, but inexperienced. Rather than quickly follow up on his advantage, he hesitated, standing over me and gloating. More than that, his position above me effectively prevented his mates from striking. I thanked him appropriately. Positioning my hands firmly against the carpeted floor, I raised my body up on my strong arms and lashed out with both feet. The double kick nailed the ninja square in the gut and lifted him off the ground. He was propelled backward like a human cannonball, arching up and over a sofa before crashing through one of the large bay windows. The sound of shattering glass filled the room as the hapless ninja exited the house.
My show of strength made the remaining ninjas more cautious and I was able to stand without being attacked. The first attacker was also back on his feet, but standing apart from his partners. This made him vulnerable. Grabbing the ottoman and raising it up to shoulder level, I stepped forward and hurled it at the surprised ninja. He tried to dodge the piece of heavy furniture, but my throw was accurate and fast. It clipped him high, impacting with his chest and head. Man and chair flew backward before colliding with the wall behind. The ottoman bounced off the wall and came to a rest several feet away. The man seemed to stick to the wall, momentarily, like a bug against the windshield of a car, before eventually slumping to the floor, dazed and out of the fight.
The two ninjas still on their feet exchanged worried glances and backed away, putting some distance between us. Their leader, still on the stairs, had apparently run out of hand signals. “Get her, you idiots!” he screamed at them. “Get her now!”
More fearful of their leader than of me, the ninjas gathered their courage and approached. Taking the lead, the first of the ninjas let out a shrill war cry and leapt at me. I ducked under one spinning heal kick, then another. His attack was aggressive, but it left him open. Spotting my chance, I lifted my right foot high in the air and brought an axe handle kick down hard on the ninja’s right shoulder. The ugly sound of cracking bone confirmed a serious injury. The ninja crumpled to the floor, grasping at his shoulder and groaning in pain.
His partner rushed me, landing stiff right to my jaw and a left hook to my stomach. I shrugged off the blows and countered with an elbow strike to his chest that knocked him back a couple steps. He lifted a high kick aimed at my temple, but I blocked the blow and kicked his opposite foot out from under him. As he fell to the floor, he grabbed my right hand and pulled me over with him, tossing me across the floor with a nice Judo throw.
I landed smoothly and rolled to my feet, unhurt. The ninja was back on his feet, as well, crouched and ready. I feinted a leg sweep, knowing that he would be able to block it, then let loose with laid back front toe kick that glanced off his chin, knocking him out of his crouch and putting some space between us. The blow seemed to daze him more than I expected, but it was a ruse. As I rushed in for the kill, the resourceful warrior dropped to the floor and took me over with a leg-trip takedown. He jumped on top of me and pulled my right arm into an armbar hold, using his weight to increase the torque on my shoulder and elbow.
He underestimated my strength, though, and with a tug of my super-powerful arm I was able to flip him over and off of me, freeing my arm in the process. He got up and turned to face me quickly, but not quickly enough. Springing at him, I fired my right foot forward with a powerful mule kick that connected against his chest and propelled him backward. The warrior impacted hard enough against the wall to leave a nice ninja imprint, then bounced forward and landed on his face. He tried weakly to lift himself up, then collapsed into unconsciousness.
I turned towards the ninja leader. He stood silently, his head now cocked at an angle so that he could again look back to the unseen figure at the top of the stairs. Again, I heard the muffled voice giving the leader instructions. Then, without hesitation or fear, the ninja turned back towards me, let out a war cry, and leapt over the staircase railing. He landed on the marble surface of the Arbor House entryway and rolled, his momentum carrying him back to his feet, nearer to me. As he charged me, he let loose with another war cry.
This last ninja was quick. His moves were good. I blocked the torrent of punches and kicks that he sent at me, but he had me backing up, on the defensive. With each punch and kick he grunted loudly, releasing his Chi and increasing the force of his blows. Finally, he penetrated my defenses, landing solidly with a right-handed chop to the base of my neck. The blow stung, but I was ready for it. Momentarily following the old boxers’ philosophy that you sometimes have to take a blow to give one, I had allowed the blow to land. And what I gave in return was devastating-A right cross that caught him on the mouth and turned his head around.
The sound of the blow filled the large room. The ninja wobbled, then slumped to one knee. I caught his weight in my arms and then lifted him up and over my head. I took a step forward and flung him the length of the room, sending him crashing into the cabinet of old keepsakes. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass resounded through Arbor House. “Hope there wasn’t anything too valuable in there,” I said aloud while watching the dust settle.
From behind me, at the base of the staircase, a single set of hands applauded my victory. I turned and looked. I wasn’t terribly surprised by what I saw.
“Tommy,” I said coldly. “I would like to say that it is nice to see you again, but it isn’t.”
“No need to be impolite, Jody,” the man responded with a smug smile. “After all, I have come such a long way to find you.”
Tommy Zamborelli, alias Tommy-Zap, alias Tommy-Z, known inside the Program as Agent 001, a man I hoped never to see again, now stood just feet away. Like me, he wore a costume of unstable molecules, though his was a full body suit. The legs of the suit were blue, the top green-- The standard colors for the Program’s agents.
“Why are you hear?” I asked.
“Haven’t you guessed?” he replied. “The Council has taken notice of your achievements on the outside. They’re impressed. They want you back. It seems they now think it was a mistake to let you go.
They wish to correct that mistake.”
At six foot, Tommy stood only slightly taller than me, but his frame was powerfully built. His tight-fitting costume revealed a set of brawny arms. The fingers of his strong, uncovered hands were short and stout. His wide shoulders and chest stood atop a narrow waist. His legs were heavily muscled. Pairs of leather straps encircled each of Tommy’s thighs and forearms. I was familiar with his fighting style. He liked to use the straps as garrotes. But they were not the most dangerous weapons he had at his disposal. Like me, Tommy had been treated with the Caantonium serum. Like me, he was strong. And like me, he had a special power.
“I tried to explain it to them,” he continued while stepping toward me. “That you weren’t worth the trouble, that you never were all that great an agent, in the first place. And, of course, there is your weakness… But they wouldn’t listen. The Council now thinks it set a poor precedent by allowing an agent to leave the Program. They want you back.”
“And if I don’t want to go?”
“Doesn’t matter. I have to bring you back, Jody. Neither of us have any choice in the matter.”
Tommy was the first agent to be injected with the serum. But the serum hadn’t been perfected yet-His strength and toughness was only about half that of my own. He was a favorite of the Council, never the less.
Tommy had been a member of the Special Forces. He had earned a reputation for being ruthless. He would do anything to complete a mission. Murder, destruction, chaos-These were just some of the tools that Tommy knew how to use. And because he had no pity, Tommy-Z was the perfect Program agent.
“It’s not that simple,” I said pointing to the mangled set of ninjas laying about the room. “I won’t come easily.”
“Ah, Jody. You never could face reality, could you? Don’t you remember our training sessions in the Octagon? You never could beat me. You’re a woman. You’re weak. You need our protection. Come back to the Compound, Jody. Let us protect you.”
Anger was building inside me, but I knew he was right, at least about one thing. I never had been able to beat Tommy. I was stronger, but he was a better fighter. And then there was his special power. Tommy was able to project pulses of static electricity through his hands. It was a devastating offensive ability, and one that he had tried on me a couple of times. But I was tougher, now. More experienced. I could beat Tommy-Z.
“I’m Ms. Marvelous, now, Tommy. I fight for justice. I put psychos like you away. I don’t need protection. Not anymore. Not ever! You can tell the Council-I don’t need them. I don’t want them!”
“Panther will be so sorry to hear that!” he replied with a sarcastic grin. “You know how he feels about you. You know how devastated he will be when I tell him you don’t want to return.”
I was getting really pissed off. Tommy was pushing all my buttons. Panther was the only member of the Council that most of the agents, including myself, had ever been allowed to meet. He was our trainer and our leader. He was tough and shrewd, an incredible fighter, and a great strategist. And he was just a ruthless and determined as Tommy.
“You can tell Panther to bite me!” I said in anger.
“I’m sure he would love that, babe! But no, I must insist that you come back. You can give
Panther your message personally.”
Panther had also been the first to exclude me from the Team when it was learned that female agents were vulnerable to sensual attacks. The Sartak, as this weakness came to be called, effects us like a type of system overload. When stimulated sensually, we are susceptible to going into a form of shock that renders us helpless. If stimulated enough, we can even die from the Sartak. Agent 003, the first female agent treated with the injections, learned this lesson the hard way. I suppose Panther felt the risk to me was too great-In any case, he had rejected me, made me feel like an outsider. I was excluded from team meetings, training sessions, and field assignments. I was still Agent 005, but in reality I was a nobody. Is it any wonder that I felt I had to leave? And now they wanted me back?
I have never regretted my decision to leave. But it was about more than just my own vanity. At the time I left, I was seeing the Program through new eyes. For the first time, I was seeing them for what they truly were, not for what I wanted them to be. What I wanted was simple-An organization that was dedicated to fighting for justice. An organization that would stand up for the little guy and do what is right. But the Program is, I discovered, very different from that. The Council doesn’t care about justice.
They don’t care about the little guy.
“I’m doing good work in Megapolis, Tommy. I’m fighting crime. I’m taking drugs off the street. I’m making it safe for kids to play in their own front yards. I’m--”
“Oh, brother!” Tommy said while rolling his eyes. “Wake up, will you? It’s not about that stuff. There’s a much bigger war being fought out there, Jody, and the sooner you wake up and smell the roses, the better.”
All the Council cared about was getting the job done. Protecting the interests of the nation was the paramount thing. It didn’t matter who got in the way. It didn’t matter who got hurt. As long as the job got done. They were the ultimate big brother.
“We gave you your powers,” he continued. “You work for us, not Megapolis. Now, will you come peacefully?” Tommy’s grabbed his crotch with his right hand, hinting at the alternative.
“Never!” I replied in disgust.
He smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.”
The scientists never did figure out why the Sartak only effects female agents. But it gives the males a big advantage over us. It was an advantage that Tommy intended to use. Circling me and smiling deviously, Tommy-Z pulled down the zipper that held the fabric of his costume together over his crotch. Folding the material away, he exposed and removed his already swelling cock. I tried to look unimpressed, but my eyes uncontrollably focused on it. Tommy’s cock was imposing-Eight inches and thick, the big muscle stood at attention in front of him, rising into the air under its own power.
Fear crept into my heart. I knew that Tommy intended to use his massive cock on me. He intended to use the Sartak to defeat me. Looking at his powerful member, my confidence seemed to melt. I tried to hide my apprehension, to maintain an illusion of composure, but he could see it. He could see the doubts that were building inside of me.
“I’ve been looking forward to this, Jody,” he said evilly. “Ever since the first time we trained together, since the first time we wrestled back at the Octagon, I’ve been wanting you. Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.
“Women don’t belong in the Program. You think you’re as good as us? You think you have what it takes? You don’t have what it takes. You’re nothing. It’s demeaning just to have to work around you.
It demeans what we do and it demeans who we are.”
Tommy’s face was dark, sneering. His eyes were filled with a hateful lust. I already knew he was ruthless and uncaring. But I had never seen this side of his personality. It was the dark side of an already evil soul.
“You remember, don’t you, Jody? How you used to train with us? How you used to sit across from me in the meetings? Always teasing, always waving those breasts in my face? Waving that ass in the air? Driving me crazy? I was glad when you left. Glad you weren’t around to distract me. I told the Council. Told them we didn’t need you. Told them you were bad for the team.”
Tommy was raving, mad. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew he was a beast. I never suspected he was insane.
“You were just like Agent 003, I told them. She was always teasing me, too. But I showed her. I showed everybody. She was weak. You’re all weak. I gave her what she was begging for and it killed her.
She was a weak, pitiful--”
“What?” I asked, startled. “Agent 003 was killed as the result of a one night stand-with a stranger. We didn’t know about the Sartak, yet. She didn’t--”
“It was me, you stupid bitch!” he interrupted. “I beat her and then I screwed her brains out! She had been begging for it since the day she arrived. Stupid cunt-Didn’t know how good I am in the sack. Didn’t know it would kill her.”
“But the Council said--”
“The Council lied. Hell, they lie all the time. Haven’t you figured that out, yet? At first, they were upset. But I did them a favor. I showed them how weak you are. I showed them that you don’t deserve to be in the Program. Agent 003 didn’t belong, and neither do you. They want me to bring you in. Figure I’m the man for the job. But I’m going to show them again. I’m going to show them you don’t deserve it. I’m going to show them how weak you are!”
Tommy-Z leapt at me, his arms extended in front of him, his hands reaching for my throat. I reacted instantly, using my flying power to go up and over him. I took advantage of the twelve foot ceiling, flying out of reach to the far end of the room.
I was in shock. Tommy was insane, but his words stung me to my soul. Agent 003-Laura-- had been the first female agent injected with the Caantonium serum and inducted into the Program. Her presence had made things easier for me when I arrived. I had found her to be a decent and caring person. I considered her my friend. The Council had told the team that she had died after sneaking out of the Compound and going into the city for an unauthorized visit. She had taken a lover, they said-a one night stand that she paid for with her life. But now I knew it was a lie. It had been Tommy. Tommy had raped her. Tommy had killed her.
It explained a lot-Why Panther had been so ready to exclude me, why my training had been suspended. The Council was ready to forgive Tommy. He was their best agent, after all. But they recognized that I, as the last female agent on the team, was at risk as long as I worked around him. The choice was simple. Tommy won, I lost.
What I didn’t understand was why they wanted me back. Was it simply a case of getting noticed, as Tommy had implied? Had I become too successful as Ms. Marvelous? Did the Council’s own vanity demand that they regain control of their creation? But why, even if this was true, did they send a maniac like Tommy after me? Why not one of the other agents?
But the answer was obvious. As Tommy waved his enormous cock in front of me it was clear that he was uniquely qualified for this mission. He knew how to beat me. And he was motivated. Tommy wanted to put that thing in me. He wanted to humiliate me. He wanted to rape me into submission. I didn’t have time to think about it anymore. Tommy was chasing me down, driving me into a corner. The ceiling wasn’t high enough to avoid him for long.
“Stop running, bitch!” he snarled while pointing his cock at me. “We both know you want this.” But I was done retreating. My fear was replaced with anger. Tommy’s admission of guilt concerning Agent 003 filled me with rage. This madman had to be stopped!
With a burst of speed I flew at him, my left hand pointed out in front of me, my right clenched into a fist and cocked behind me. I pulled up just in front of him and let go, driving a straight right into his face with devastating force. Too late he tried to block the blow-The impact of my fist with his jaw resounded throughout the room. He flew backward, landing ten feet away and tumbling through a chair. I continued forward, touching down beside him. Without hesitation, I grabbed two fistfuls of his costume, lifted him up, then spun on my heels and flung him across the room. He crashed hard into the wall, the impact creating cracks up and down the height of its plaster surface. Again, I flew to his prone form and again I lifted him up. Gorilla pressing him up and over my head, I held him there just long enough for him to realize what was coming, then slammed him down with all my might. The floor shook and Tommy bounced, but I wasn’t done with him.
Not giving him a chance to recover, I wrapped my arms around Tommy’s waist and hoisted him up and over my shoulder. Again using my flying power, I launched us toward the wall at the far end of the room. Picking up speed as we went, I propelled us forward. At the last moment, just before impact, I withdrew my arms from around his waist and used them to push his weight off of me. He slammed into the wall with terrific force, rebounding just as I arrived. I drove him again into the wall, sandwiching him against its hard surface.
The bruising collision sent us both sprawling onto the floor. Tommy raised himself to all fours and groaned. He rubbed his head wearily with his right hand. Blood trickled from his mouth. I had him hurt.
I got to my feet and let go with a kick to his ribs. He flipped onto his back and groaned in pain. His cock was still swollen, standing like a leaning flag pole over his stomach. I considered grabbing it and ripping it from his body, but the idea disgusted me. “So what?” I wondered. “What he did to Laura was just as disgusting!”
But Tommy was an animal. I’m not. Even as angry as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to do something so violent. Still, I wasn’t done with Tommy. I was going to give him the beating of his life.
Clutching him by the collar of his costume, I pulled him to his feet.
“This is for Laura,” I snarled. Reaching back and then letting go, I rammed my right fist into his gut. Tommy was super-powered and tough. I didn’t need to hold back. It felt good to be able to hit him with my full strength. He grunted in pain and doubled over. I turned him around so that he was facing away from me. Grabbing his left wrist, I wrapped his arm underneath him, between his legs, then grabbed the wrist again from behind. I had him in a nice pump-handle hold, but I didn’t intend to hold him there for long.
Pulling up hard on his wrist, I flipped him over and sent him sprawling through the air. He landed on his back ten feet away, at the base of the staircase and on top of the broken front door. He slumped backward, leaning against the stairs, groaning, bleeding, and beaten.
I walked over and stood above him, looking down at his bruised form. I was pleased with myself. “I have some friends at the Megapolis Police Department that I am sure will like to meet you, Tommy. I imagine they will have lots of questions about what happened in the park, today. So, you have a choice-
Come along like a nice boy, or get smacked around some more by me. What’s it going to be?” In answer, Tommy reached out with his right hand and weakly grabbed my left ankle. His strength was gone. If this was an attack, it was pathetic.
“Oh, come on, Tommy!” I said mockingly. “You’re finished! Give it up and we’ll--”
I screamed out in pain as Tommy used his special power on me. Static electricity rippled up my left leg, causing the muscles of my thigh and calve to cramp tightly. I pulled away from his grasp, breaking his hold, but my leg trailed behind me, burning from the assault it had just endured.
“I’m not done, yet!” Tommy snarled as he pulled himself to his feet. Turning, he rushed up the stairs and out of sight.
I rubbed my leg with my hands, trying desperately to get some feeling back in it. “Damn!” I
cursed my carelessness under my breath. I should have been more careful. I should have known that Tommy wasn’t as hurt as he had let on. He had baited me, waiting for his chance to regain the advantage.
Now, we would begin again.
Limping slightly, I cautiously made my way up the stairs. The second floor of the Arbor house was more cramped than the first, with a narrow hallway splitting off in either direction from the staircase and leading to several smaller rooms beyond. I stopped and listened, but could hear nothing. I knew Tommy was in one of the rooms. There was no way a maniac like him would have fled. I played a quick game of Catch a Tiger by the Toe in my mind and turned down the hallway to the left. I warily poked my head in the first room. It was a bedroom, with a window that opened to the back of the house and overlooked the swimming pool. Other than for the queen sized bed and a small dresser, the room was empty.
The door to the second room was locked. Gripping the doorknob in my powerful left hand, I ripped it from its moorings and opened the door. This room, too, was empty.
But as I turned to continue my search, Tommy was there, in a fighting stance, blocking the hallway. He jabbed at me with a left, feinting with it to distract me, then clipped me under the chin with an open palm strike. My head snapped back as I was physically lifted off the ground by the force of the blow. He followed up with a leaping front toe kick that connected in the center of my face. I have to admit that it was a terrific move in the cramped quarters of the hallway-I flew backwards, landing hard on my back at the foot of the open door to the first bedroom.
Tommy was on top of me in an instant. Kneeling beside me and grabbing my left arm in his hands, he let loose with another blast of electricity. A thousand hot pins stabbed into my arm as the current flowed from my wrist, through my elbow, and into my shoulder. In desperation, I swung at his head with my right fist. Tommy saw the punch coming but was slow to react. I nailed him on the side of his head, snapping his face to the right and flinging him into the nearby wall. He released his grip, and countered with a punch of his own, a right cross that connected solidly against my left eye.
I rolled with the punch, allowing it to carry me into the bedroom. I rose to a knee, my injured left arm dangling limply at my side. Tommy was quick to pursue me. Charging through the bedroom doorway, he kicked at me with his right foot. Unlike his kick in the hallway, there was nothing pretty about this kick. It was a brute display of power intended to rip my head off my shoulders. At the last moment, I raised my right arm in front of me, deflecting the blow downward but not diminishing its force.
I grunted as the kick broke through my defense and dug into my stomach.
The breath was knocked out of me as I fell backward into the base of the bed. Dazed, my left arm still tingling and useless, I was helpless as Tommy grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up into a semi-standing position. Using both hands to electrocute me, Tommy once again discharged his power into me. A powerful current of static electricity coursed through my chest and shoulders, from one armpit to the other. A normal person might have been killed, their heart and lungs unable to handle the massive charge-As it was, my super-powered body convulsed in agony as Tommy continued to dump his electricity into me. I drifted on the edge of consciousness. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
But Tommy is a living battery. Though he would recharge quickly, his current supply of power was spent. Holding me limply in his strong arms, as if I was little more than a rag doll, he shook me until my eyes opened.
“Now, who’s the one that is finished?” he growled at me. “Huh, Jody? Where’s your big talk, now?”
He threw me on the bed and began stroking his cock with his right hand. It quickly returned to attention. “Oh, yeah! I’ve been looking forward to this!”
He stood at the foot of the bed and grabbed my ankles. Pulling my legs apart, he kneeled between them and waved his thick member back and forth, mocking me. His left hand grabbed at my costume, pulling my bikini bottom to the side and exposing my nether lips. He groped me, roughly rubbing the fingers of his left hand across the opening of my pussy. I squirmed under him as he forced the tip of his forefinger inside me. But I wasn’t finished, yet. Sitting up, I grabbed him by the hair with my right hand and drove his face into my right knee. Then I did it again. And again. I would have done it some more, but his face was starting to hurt my knee.
I let go of his hair and pushed him off the bed. He wobbled, then steadied himself on the dresser. He started to mumble something, a curse of some kind, but I didn’t let him finish. Rolling off the bed and standing, I delivered a hard right uppercut to his stomach. I hammered another right hand home to his chest. My left arm still tingled, but it was regaining feeling quickly. Soon, I would again be able to use both fists to smash this miserable excuse for a man.
Sensing I was close to victory, I reared back and let go with a straight right aimed at his face. But Tommy still had some gas left in the tank. At the last possible moment, he slid to his left, causing my punch to miss and strike the wall. My fist drove cleanly through the aging wood of the Arbor House, punching a hole and emerging on the opposite side. Before I could extract my entangled arm, Tommy grabbed me by the hair with his left hand and rammed his right knee into my stomach.
I groaned in pain, feeling as if every rib had been broken. With my arm still buried in the wall and his fingers still wrapped in my hair, Tommy slid around to my right and then behind me. Using his right forearm, he clubbed me in the back of the skull, once, then twice, then a third time. Tugging back on my hair, he pulled me away from the wall, extracting my arm from the hole.
My head was spinning. I felt weak. Tommy took advantage of the situation, reaching under my bikini bottom and groping my ass. I gasped as his middle finger penetrated my anus, the tip of it driving an inch inside. He released his hold on my hair. I would have dropped to my knees but he held me up, supporting my weight by wrapping his left arm around my waist.
Tommy’s finger slid another inch into me. I felt tired, exhausted. I tried to pull away, but his grip was strong. He held me tightly, his hot cock pressing snuggly against my left hip.
The finger in my ass was tormenting me, sending pangs of pain and pleasure through my aching body.
With each passing moment, the finger seemed to sap more strength from me.
He pressed harder, sliding his finger farther into me, until it was inserted almost to the knuckle. I vainly tried to remove his left hand from around my waist. I moaned softly as Tommy worked his finger around inside my aching anus. The Sartak was growing within me now, enveloping me with the early stages of its velvet touch.
“You’re weakening, Jody,” Tommy whispered in my ear. “You’re mine, now.”
He slowly pulled his finger from my ass, causing me to groan loudly. Still grasping me around the waist, Tommy shifted his position so that he was directly behind me. He pushed me face-first into the wall and pulled my costume to the side, exposing my ass. Using his right hand to guide his massive cock to its target, he pressed the tip of his stiff member against my aching hole. I moaned in agony as he pushed the fat head of his cock inside me. His muscle was thick, much wider than his finger had been.
“Come on,” he taunted me. “Let me in!”
Progress was slow but steady. Tommy’s weapon penetrated me an inch, then another. My body tensed. My hands clutched at his left forearm as his monster worked its way farther inside me.
“Aaagggh!” I cried. “No! Please don’t!”
I knew I had to do something quick. I couldn’t allow Tommy to continue working over my ass, or I would soon be too weak to break free. The Sartak was building inside me, stealing my strength and willpower. My anus was burning. His fat cock was hot inside me, stretching me and sending waves of pane and pleasure through my body. It was three inches in, now, and still he worked it, back and forth, in and out, trying to drive it deeper inside me.
Forcing every synapse of my mind to focus on the idea of escape, I wrapped my fingers around the thumb of his left hand. Tommy responded by thrusting his cock deeper inside my ass. I felt as if I had been impaled, as if he could support my entire weight on his muscular pole. But I had to stay focused. I had to escape now, or it would be too late.
Using all my remaining strength, I wrenched his thumb outward, turning his hand and releasing the pressure around my waist. At the same time, I lifted my right foot and placed it on the wall in front of me. Using it for leverage, I pushed off and sent us both tumbling backward onto the bed. Tommy was under me, his back on the mattress. I was on top, my back to him and his cock still buried inside me. But, I intended to remedy that situation. Bending my knees and getting my feet planted on the mattress, I pushed upward, pulling my aching ass away from its tormentor. I groaned in pain as the big cock was forcibly pulled from me, then sighed in relief as it exited my burning anus.
Tommy roared in anger. “Come back here, bitch. I’m not done with you!”
My thumb-lock still controlled his left hand, but his right was free and he wrapped it around my hips. Pulling me back on top of him, Tommy wrapped his legs around my own, straightening them and pulling them secure against the bed. With my leverage lost, I could do little but squirm as he held me tight against his body.
I could feel the shaft of his hot cock wedge itself inside the crack between my butt-cheeks. Tommy wrenched his left hand from my grip and used it to cup my left breast. His right hand did the same, cupping my right breast. His arms were inside my own, holding me securely while his fingers danced over my nipples.
The thin fabric of my costume provided little protection as he softly rubbed and fondled my swelling knobs. I tried to pull his hands away but all the strength had seemingly left me. His fingers glided expertly over my burning nipples, teasing and pinching, forcing them to stand at attention while being inspected. They protruded sharply from beneath my costume, pointing toward the ceiling like hard marbles.
“No…,” I begged. “Please… don’t… do this.”
But my pleading fell on deaf ears. Tommy was enjoying his victory. He loved the feel of my limp body lying on top of his own. He loved the pressure that my ass was putting on his rock hard cock. He loved the feel of my firm breasts in his hands and the feel of my hard nipples between his fingers. He loved the way he could make me moan each time he pinched them. He loved his own burning desire, growing greater inside him with each passing moment, as he anticipated the ultimate outcome, the ultimate victory, when he would be able to plunge his huge member deep inside my wet pussy. It was a victory that would satisfy his hateful lust and prove that he had been right all along. I was weak. I didn’t belong in the Agent-X Program.
His fingers continued their work, unrelenting. They danced across my swollen mounds, first rubbing the sensitive skin at the base, then caressing the sides, near my arms. The fingers circled my small cups lightly, teasing me, then brushed across my burning nipples softly, sending a shiver of pleasure through my body. With more force, Tommy pinched my protruding knobs between his fingers, making my helpless body tense.
I was mired in the Sartak. My legs, pinned to the bed, seemed distant and unresponsive. My hands no longer struggled with his-they now lay limply across my bare stomach. My mind was trapped in a fog. All I could feel were my bulging, rock hard, nipples. All I could think about was the hot cock wedged in my butt-crack. My pussy was wet. My clitoris was swelling, stimulated not my direct touch, but rather by the anticipation of what was to come. An orgasm was growing inside me. From the depths of my soul it seemed to emerge, powerful and unstoppable. It seemed to have a life force of its own, a life force stronger than my own. I could not hold it off for long.
I had to react. I had to turn the tide or it would be over. I knew the battle had sapped Tommy’s strength. He had been close to defeat. He couldn’t have much left. I had to ignore the Sartak. I had to resist the orgasm building inside me. I could still win. I could still beat him.
With my face contorted in concentration, I reached up and grabbed his hands in my own. I pulled them away from my breasts using every bit of strength I could muster. Tommy resisted. Pulling them back, he again pinched my nipples, sending a rush of sensations through me. I quivered in his grasp and nearly lost my will to resist. But I couldn’t give in. Too much was at stake.
I pulled his hands away a second time. Tommy’s heavy breathing filled my ears. I could tell he was struggling to maintain control. Shifting my weight on top of him, I slid to my right and fell to the edge of the bed. I was determined to get off the mattress, but with his legs wrapped around my own, I knew that my only choice was to bring him off with me. I pulled again and we struggled, his strength against mine, his will against mine. Finally, just as I thought I could struggle no longer, gravity itself determined the outcome and we tumbled over the edge of the bed and landed on the floor.
He was on top of me, but I had control of his hands and my legs were now free. Getting my right foot under me, I forced my weakening body to stand, dragging Tommy up with me. I released his right arm and focused my attack on his left. Lifting it over my head, I suddenly yanked it down, wrenching his elbow across my shoulder. Tommy cried out in pain. I turned, still holding on to the arm, then spun, twisting Tommy’s arm and flipping him over. He landed, on his back at the side of the bed, at my feet. I released his arm and stomped him on the chest with my right foot. He groaned. I liked the sound, so I stomped him again. His eyes closed and he lay still, apparently unconscious. I reached down and grabbed him by the collar. I pulled his dead weight up so that I could look him in the face. I slammed his back against the wall and held him there.
I wanted to scream at him, to tell him what a bastard he was, but I couldn’t find the energy. I needed a moment to rest. But Tommy was playing dead. Even in defeat, he wanted to torment me. His right hand suddenly shot out, grabbing my crotch. His middle finger easily penetrated my exposed, wet, nether lips. I stiffened and gasped, the sensations nearly knocking me off my feet. For a long moment we stood there, me holding him against the wall, our eyes locked, he probing the walls of my pussy with his finger.
Tommy had me hooked like a fish, his bent finger snuggled firmly inside my nether mouth and applying upward pressure on my swollen clitoris. I responded violently, releasing my grip on him and slamming my right fist into his face. His head snapped back and bounced off the wall. Grimacing in pain, Tommy retracted his finger and pushed me away with both hands. He raised his right foot and lashed out, desperately mule kicking me in the stomach with everything he had. The force of the blow was impressive. I flew backward over the bed, coming to rest in a heap on the other side. He pursued me quickly, lifting me to my feet and then flinging me through the bedroom window. The sound of shattering glass filled my ears.
We were on the second floor of the house. Had I been in better shape, I might have been able to fly. But I was hurt. I was tired. I couldn’t muster the strength or the concentration required to use my special power. I hit hard, at the edge of the swimming pool, my left shoulder catching the cement lip and my body falling into the warm, chlorinated water.
I lay there, in the water, face down, drifting on the edge of consciousness. My shoulder ached. My body ached. My head was spinning. The bottom of the pool was white, sparkling. I knew I needed to lift my head, to breathe, but that would have meant moving. I didn’t want to move. I wanted only to lie here forever, suspended in the warm water, free from the demands of further physical exertion. My lungs were burning. I had to move, I knew. I had to have air. But which way? Air, I pondered to myself. Air-Up. Must move up. I lifted my head and my mouth cleared the water. I took a deep breath, then another. I could see the side of the pool, where I had crashed. I paddled toward it. The cement edge was hard to the touch. No wonder my shoulder hurt, I thought. I lifted my hands over it, preparing to pull myself out. “Why not stay in for a while?” a voice inside me asked. “It feels good, here in the water.”
But wasn’t there something I had to do? What was it? Oh, yeah-- Tommy. I had to fight Tommy.
I tried to clear my head. I remembered, now. I had to fight Tommy. But where was he? Where-
Suddenly, a leather strap wrapped around my throat and tightened. Tommy was right above me, I realized too late. He pulled me from the water by my neck, his garrote tightly clamped around my windpipe. I gagged and scratched at the strap with my fingers. But it was hopeless. I couldn’t even get my fingers underneath the strap, much less break it. Tommy was behind me, out of range of my fists and feet. My body, already oxygen deprived by my spill into the pool, quickly weakened under this new attack. My struggles lessened, then ceased altogether. My hands fell from my throat, falling limp on the cement. My eyelids fluttered and my eyes rolled into the back of my head.
Just as I was about to black out, Tommy loosened and released the garrote. He lowered my head so that it lay on the cement. My lungs filled with air, slightly reviving me. I was on my back, staring up at the clear afternoon sky. The hot sun shone down on me, drying the beads of water that remained on my skin and costume.
I was helpless to resist as Tommy rolled me onto my right side. He lay down behind me and lifted my left leg with his hand, holding it at the knee and propping it up so that my most sensitive areas were exposed. He leaned on his right elbow. His right hand slid under me, lifting me slightly and cupping my right breast. A soft, involuntary moan escaped my lips as he began stroking my already swollen nipple.
He moved his hips closer to mine, snuggling behind me. The tip of his stiff cock probed my nether mouth, seeking entry. I whimpered in protest as it pressed against me. Without a hand to guide it, the huge muscle struggled to find its home, sliding over my sensitive lips and rubbing against my screaming clit time and time again. Erotic waves of unwanted ecstasy coursed through my body. I was totally aware of what was happening, but seemingly helpless to prevent it. My body ached. My mind was enshrouded in the mist-like tentacles of the Sartak. My right nipple, swelling under the touch of fingers that teased and tormented it, felt as if it might burst at any moment. My burning clit, brushing time and again against the hot head of my attacker’s weapon, filled with blood until it stood above the enflamed lips that normally hid it from view. Juices from my wet pussy dripped to the pavement, intermingling with the water of the swimming pool that had fallen from my body. “No…” I begged in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. “Stop… Don’t do… this…” Finally, the big head of Tommy’s cock found my hole. With a snort of victory, he drove the tip of it into me. I clenched, trying to keep it out, but my pussy was now well lubricated and ready to give in to its attacker. Tommy shifted his position to gain a better angle of attack and then thrust again at me. His huge cock penetrated half way into me. A second thrust earned him another inch. My resistance was melting away. My left leg dangled off the ground, held up by his hand. My right leg, bent at the knee so that it was parallel with the left, lay limp atop the wet pavement. My arms and hands seemed distant and unfeeling. His cock was six inches into me. The orgasm was building. I couldn’t take much more. I had to escape.
Through sheer force of will, I raised myself up onto my right elbow. I looked down at my aching pussy. The sight of his thick shaft extending from my nether lips drained my remaining willpower and Tommy shoved his eight inch cock fully inside me, driving it in to the hilt. I moaned loudly as his fat member filled me, rubbing against my sensitive walls and sending waves of pleasure through my helpless body. My head fell back and hung loosely, bouncing slightly as he rammed his stiff pole into me again and again.
Not having the strength or the will to resist any longer, I gave into the Sartak, allowing its cold embrace to envelop me. The sensual shock took me over, stealing the feeling from my legs and arms. All I could feel were my swollen nipples and aching breasts. All I could focus on was the enormous cock driving in and out of my burning pussy. The orgasm inside me threatened to explode at any moment. I was defeated. I belonged to Tommy.
He raised his lips to my left ear and whispered, mocking me. “You’re mine, now, Jody. I win, you lose. Just like old times!”
Tommy was breathing hard. He was pumping full strokes in and out of me, now, one after the other, filling me again and again with his enormous cock.
“You’re so weak! Just like I told them!” He was laughing now, enjoying his victory. Sweat beaded on his face as he strained to hold back his own orgasm. He wanted me to come first. “You can’t cut it. You’re a failure! The project doesn’t need losers like you!”
I moaned loudly as he pinched hard on my right nipple. My pussy was on fire. I felt my orgasm could erupt at any moment.
“Damn, cunt, you’re even better than Laura. She didn’t last half this long.”
His words burned me to my soul. Laura-Poor Laura. Tommy had raped her to death. Would he do the same to me?
“Laura screamed at the end,” he sneered. “Are you going to scream for me, Jody? Will you scream for your pimp daddy?”
He jabbed at me harder, trying to make me scream. His balls slapped hard against the inside of my thigh. I bit my lip, not wanting to give in.
“Scream! Scream like Laura, damn you!”
His words enraged me. Within me, somewhere deep inside, a spark ignited. Fueled by desperation and burning with the heat of anger, it momentarily seared through the fog of the Sartak. For a brief moment, the spark was stronger than the orgasm rising within me.
“No!” I screamed.
“Yes!” he replied in glee.
The spark of anger erupted into a living flame of rage. “No! Laura was my friend, you animal!
She deserved so much more than you. She deserved so much more than the Program!”
Regaining control of my arms and legs, I struggled with every ounce of strength I could muster. Scratching at the pavement with my hands, kicking with my legs, I used whatever leverage I could find to pull away from him. His pole slid from my nether lips and I rolled to my left so that I was facing him. I lashed out with a wild overhand right that somehow connected. Tommy fell back against the cement, growling in anger.
I pulled myself to my feet, somehow, but the flame of rage was quickly dying, replaced again by the Sartak. Nothing had changed, really. My nipples were still swollen. My pussy was still on fire. The orgasm within me teetered on the edge of exploding. I was weak-it was hard even to stand. A part of me wanted nothing more than to lay back down, to spread my legs and invite Tommy’s huge cock to come back inside. Thoughts of this ultimate defeat distracted me, causing me to lose my concentration on the battle.
Tommy rose slowly, sensing my weakness. He approached arrogantly, his left hand on his hip, his right hand slowly stroking his thick shaft and pointing it toward me. “Give it up, girl. You put up a good fight, but now it’s time for fucking. I’m going to fuck you to death!”
He gripped me on my arms, just below the shoulders, easily holding me in his strong hands. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. Desperation was written on my face. My body felt weak. He knew he had me.
He pulled me close, rubbing his body against mine. My nipples screamed as they brushed across his chest. Frantic to escape and knowing I was down to my last chance, I raised my right knee and planted it in his crotch. He grimaced for a moment, but it was a weak blow and didn’t cause him any lasting damage. He struck me across the face with his right hand.
“Stupid bitch! Try that again and I’ll cause you some real pain!”
He tried to hit me again, this time with a vicious backhand swipe. Instinctively, I pulled away and pushed off, narrowly dodging the blow. The combination of the miss and my push knocked him off balance. He recovered quickly, but his right foot slipped on the wet cement and he nearly fell. Momentarily bent over, his right hand near the ground to catch himself, Tommy was vulnerable. I threw my body at him, tackling him and carrying us both over the edge. We fell into the pool and separated.
What happened next was totally unexpected. As I struggled to reach the surface, the pool was suddenly full of light and noise. Electrical current surged through my body, causing me to cry out in pain.
Tommy was using his power on me again, I thought gloomily as I began to brown out.
But no-Under the water, I could hear Tommy screaming, too. I forced my eyes open and saw him, at the center of the pool, submerged, thrashing about. Bolts of lightning were attached to his body. Flaring this way, then that, but always returning to their source, the electrical bolts caused the water to bubble and foam. Then I knew-The water had shorted Tommy out. The living battery was literally electrocuting himself.
I labored to reach the edge of the pool. As I pulled myself out of the water, I looked back. A few sparks sputtered here and there, but Tommy-Z’s energy was mostly spent. He lay in the water, face down. Steam rose off the surface of the pool.
I stood silently, breathing hard and regaining a bit of composure. With a couple of minutes of rest to strengthen me, I walked to the far side of the pool. Leaning over the edge, I was just able to reach Tommy and grab him by his short brown hair. I wearily pulled his limp form out of the water, then left him lying on the cement.
He sputtered, coughing up some water before taking a deep breath. I suppose I should have been disappointed that he was still alive, but at that moment I felt nothing. I was too tired to feel anything.
Agent 001 was defeated. I left him there, unconscious by the pool, knowing that nothing I could do to him would be as bad as what the Council would do. The Council didn’t tolerate failure.
As I wearily exited Arbor House and returned home, I wondered what they would think. Had the Council made the wrong choice? Should they have gotten rid of Tommy when they had the chance? If it was a mistake, then I figured I had corrected it. For Laura. For me. Hell, for the whole damn world.
But I knew the Council never admitted to mistakes. Instead, they looked for ways to correct them. They had more agents. They would come for me again.