Himiko Ibara, better known as the Scarlet Samurai was fucked. Well, she was about to be fucked, if the three thugs who had her bound with handcuffs and had hung her handcuffs from a chain had their way, which they intended to have with her. How could this have happened?
The night started off as most did for her, with some light crime fighting and investigation. For almost a month now, she had been tracking a sex trafficking ring. She had gotten a tip about a warehouse on the docks, and she had hit pay dirt, as she was lead to where they were housing the women they were prostituting. She had managed to sneak in, and even freed several of the women there before anyone caught on.
Once she was discovered, three men engaged her in combat. Two wielded blades, just as she did. One man, the biggest of the three, was wearing some kind of claw weapon, with highly sharp points and some small canisters contained within.Didn’t pay him much mind, mistakenly assuming that he wasn’t going to be able to get close enough to her to actually hit her with it.
For a while she exchanged blows with the other two, keeping them at bay, even when they both came at her at once. Every now and then she parried the big man’s claws, not having any trouble from the thugs. She got into a deadlock with both of the sword wielders, their combined strength managing to match her own superhuman strength. While she worked to overcome them, she felt a powerful hit connect with her back, and small pinpricks injected something into her body.
Almost immediately she began feeling the effects of whatever he injected into her. She felt as though her body were going limp. Like, her limbs still worked, she just couldn’t control them. The three thugs got to work immediately, taking her twin katanas from her, placing some nearby handcuffs on her wrists. In this state she was rather easy to physically manipulate, with her unable to resist in the slightest, or even voice her dissent.
Two of them hung her up on the chain while the other began to operate it, raising her up to her tip toes, and then lowering her down to her hands and knees. Once there were satisfied with her moveability, they got to work, one from behind groping at her nice, C cup breasts, and the one in the front teasing her list through her panties.
“Hey, this stuff will wear off in thirty minutes, so let’s get busy. Do you guys want her on her hands and knees, or hanging high so you can get to her pussy and ass?” The crane operator called out to his comrades.
Liberty played his part.
The two different logistical workflows of the operation had been totally siloed per Liberty's explicit direction. He retained total deniability of the cat and mouse game his employer had played with Scarlet Samurai through cutouts and ignorant middle men. From his seat behind the one way mirror that fronted the warehouse's office he saw everything go down.
Scarlet's reticence to end her foes' lives.
The trio's trained teamwork.
An archaic drama of swords and warriors being played out in 2015.
"Pathetic."
Once their farce came to what would be his ally and fellow hero's dissolution he powered on his suit's active camouflage. Liberty faded into the background.
His advanced polymer tabi boots allowed him to run with the silence and balance of bare feet. As he sprinted with cat like grace, Liberty raised a small dart gun from the back of his belt and fired three times.
Each one hit its mark, dropping the trio of would be rapists to the ground and leaving a paralyzed superheroine.
She did certainly dress provocatively. While the two of them had never discussed it on their time working together in the Rescue Front he thought that it must have quenched some voyeuristic thirst. A small woman who possessed the strength the gracefully wield a katana in each hand was truly something to behold and, until now, unassailable.
Liberty's brown eyes stared coolly into Scarlet's remaining orb as he brusquely removed her from the chain to set her down leaning against a crate. The hero went about restraining her assailants, securing their weapons, returning her katanas to her possession and, when all else failed, appearing busy when she was finally able to move and speak of her own volition.
There was a drug he carried that counteracted the effects of most muscle relaxants and dissociatives, but he preferred to let Scarlet loll there. He'd rather let her have the time to stew on the fact that the second most senior member of the Rescue League had come to save her ass from a humiliating gang bang that she got herself into in the first place. Of course Liberty--the only normal human who could stand up to Strong Man in a fist fight, the man who planned and executed an escape from an Afghani prison while both blind and deaf--would be the one to. The one who checked up on the other heroes in the Front without letting them know, who gave equally oblique praises and criticisms for events he could not have been at but somehow knew intimately.
Once his teammate was able to get up off the ground and grip her katanas he spoke. "This is not the first time something like this has happened. We don't talk about it, but...
"Remember when the Spartan went on a three week vacation last year?" He let it sink in for a moment. The Spartan, one of their most hard headed, strongest and brazenly outspoken Front members had lost a fight. Badly. His retreat had begun a couple days after the battle and when he came back to the Front he was greeted with open arms, no questions and looked better than ever.
"It was not just R&R, Scarlet. When we found him with the Candy Man something similar had happened.
"I did not arrive in time.
"Afterwards I suggested a training center he attend to help should this issue arise again. It focuses on interrogation resistance, discipline, focus and mental fortitude."
She had a blank look on her face as her rapists discussed how their intended to violate her various orifices. She still had a blank look on her face as they passed out in quick succession, her painted lips parted ever so slightly. Her eye tried to follow the distant shadow of movement, but it took all of her concentration just to glance around the room. She tried to smile when Liberty made himself known to her, but her red lips were stuck in an “O.”
She tried to speak as well, but only moans and sighs could escape her lips. They sounded rather erotic, like she was experiencing some great pleasure as Liberty took her into his strong arms, placing her delicately against some crates while she waited for the toxin to fade away. She had hoped he would have something to counteract it, he always did in any other circumstance, but she assumed he was playing it safe, seeing as he could not possibly know what she had been injected with.
The thirty minutes her rapists claimed they had seemed to last forever. She supposed it would have felt even longer if she was stuffed full of cock for the duration. At least gave her a chance to think of something witty to say when she finally recovered.
“Well, I supposed you have rescued every member of the Rescue front at least once now.” She stated, after several false starts, “Are you ever going to call in some of these favors, or just hoard them for eternity?” She stood shakily, her limbs still struggling to obey her mind. She almost moved to give Liberty a hug, but stopped herself. He was a distant man. Even within the group setting of their superhero team, he seemed to work alone, set apart from the group. She suspected he wouldn’t welcome the contact, even if she craved a comforting touch at the moment.
“Thank you, for this. I don’t want to think about what would have happened had you not been the Liberty we all know to you be.” She admitted with a grateful smile. Her smile turned to a look of horror as he told her about the Spartan, and how he had not arrived in time.
“Can you tell me more about this training center?” She looked up at him, vulnerably.
A week later Himiko had her bag packed as she took a private jet to the remote island located in the South Pacific.
“We touched down in thirty,” Came the voice of the captain over the intercom.
The island was a lush emerald adrift in the sea, defined by a mountainous interior with enough space to hike for months before the entire island had been explored. Thick white clouds hung over it, clustered to the nearest sign of life, while a runway next to a series of white warehouses dominated the rest of the island from their elevation.
Upon closer approach it became apparent that there was a network of buildings near the runway extending up on the mountains and, potentially, into them. It was hard to notice them until landing time neared as they were all painted dark green, all the better to blend in with their surroundings.
The island itself had an oppressive, wet heat. The runway was vacant, with an electric golf cart and a note left for the visitor.
S.S.,
We happen to be a little understaffed right now. Follow the road (there's only one) and enter the first building on the left.
- Dr. G----
In the manner of doctors everywhere this one had a totally illegible signature.
The road was a mile long, paved with concrete, and on each side was a ditch with the tree line behind it. Wind funneled down the road, providing a constant pleasant breeze in counterpoint to the heat. When the road reached what could have passed for a populated area the street was deserted, the buildings looked more or less unoccupied, except for one.
The first on the left.
Lights were on in the windows and a note had been tacked to the front door.
S.S.,
This one.Good job!
- Dr. G----
Inside the building everything was well lit and modern, in a pleasant foyer that managed to combine both the hominess of a house with the professional presence of a doctor's office. The waiting area had been tossed aside for a living room, in which a man was sitting in a chair. He looked relatively young and wore black from head to toe--his full brogue dress shoes, the light linen trousers, the silk t-shirt and even the choker around his neck.
"Hello, Scarlet Samurai. I'm Dr. Goode, I'll be your mentor while you're at the Center." The young doctor made eye contact with Scarlet and smiled, his toxic green orbs flashing.
She followed the instructions left for her at the runway, as the pilot unloaded some supplies and refueled himself for the trip back home. It was worrisome that there was no one else around. She had signed up for the course entirely on Liberty’s advice, doing very little research about it herself. Of course, there was no reason to distrust Liberty, and she was quite sure he had put in the work to learn everything he could about this place, as was his way of operating.
She was glad she had dressed casually comfortable for her first day at the center. Her white tank top was sticking to her skin as it were, and her denim shorts left her long lean legs cool, as she traveled along the sultry island. Her long black hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and she was glad she had declined to wear makeup, given the heat, letting her natural features shine through this day.
She was shocked at what she saw of the doctor, expecting some older man, someone with experience under this belt. The young man who in charge of her training was hardly older than she was, and handsome, if she were being honest with herself. He was nearly a foot taller than her, and she could sense the slender musculature that made up his figure under his clothing. He was the kind of man she would have dated, if her life as a super powered vigilante had left any time for such pursuits.
“It is a pleasure Dr. Goode,” She extended her hand professionally, giving a firm handshake that did not hint at the true strength within her. “But please, call me Himiko. Liberty vouched for your integrity, but I would prefer that no one else I interact with while here know my alias.”
“Will we start right away, or do I have time to fresh up?”
As ever, Scarlet Samurai moved with a liquid grace that left him impressed and duly worried. In the simplest of actions she had perfectly measured a firm grip for a woman of her approximate build, her small fingers folding so neatly into his own. "Of course, Himiko.
"At the Center we take client confidentiality seriously. Our reputation speaks for itself: we have none." The young doctor beamed at Himiko, perfectly confident. He was thinking of the last time they met in battle as their hands disentangled, his middle finger softly counted coup across the soft inside of her wrist. Scarlet Samurai had taken the pommel of her katana and slammed in the side of the head right as he was about strike one of his foes.
Just hard enough to blow out the pupil in his left eye socket. It was only by dint of his hair wrapped aroun his head inside that armored reflective helmet that he escaped a bone shards splintering into his brain.
"We will start right away. You'll find there is no freshening up on the island," he said, cool as a cucumber, unimpeded by sweat in the apparently unairconditioned building. The doctor turned on his heel and lazily crooked a finger for his patient to follow. He had to, because now he knew.
He had always wondered. The eye.If the patch was affectation, hid technology or if the sigil itself held wyrd sway. In the heat of combat he had never gotten the opportunity to reach for out but now, he knew--
Marred beauty.
Dr. Goode lead her through the house with a sense of authority and ease, his long, knotted hair gently swaying left to right. The next room's interior was a strange mish-mash of Spanish Revival and certified sterile laboratory. The walls were pristine and white, the floor hard wood and room itself quite open.
Except for a clusters of medical equipment attached to what looked similar to exercise machines if somewhat more menacing. A gurney was set up next to a desk with a computer, which Dr. Goode motioned her towards. He opened the desk, removed a box and opened it. "During your time here we are going to be continually monitoring your physiological responses. This will enable us to take a bioinformatic approach to your training. They need to be applied and calibrated, and they are required to be flushed with the skin.
"If you would disrobe, we will begin. Do you have any questions?" He had already removed one palm sized sensor pad from the box and was expectantly waiting, as though Himiko had no option.
She hesitated for only a moment when he told her to disrobe; glancing around the room for somewhere she could find some privacy. The open floor plan of the room did not afford her any, and she supposed it didn’t matter much. He was a doctor, of course, this was purely professional, or so she told herself. Still she walked a short distance to the wall, with her back towards him.
She took a deep breath before pulling her tank top over her head, her skin shiny with a light layer of sweat. Under her shirt she wore a white soft cup bra, that held supported her ample chest nicely. Folding the shirt neatly, she placed it on a nearby surface. She slipped out of her sandals, nudging them against the wall before unbuttoning her shorts, and working them down her hips. She had on a matching pair of white panties, which sat high on her hips, leaving plenty of the soft curve of her as to peak out from underneath. Once again, she folded her jeans, placing them on the pile of clothes neatly, as if she were trying to buy herself some time. Sighing softly, she reached her arms around her back, unhooking her bra and placing it with the rest of her clothes, before stepping out of her underwear.
Turning to face him in her completely nude state, a small blush crawled over her face. She supposed this would be easier if her doctor wasn’t so attractive, feeling like there would be a cooler air of objectively if she did not see him as a man, but a professional. Her body was completely hairless, aside from the long locks on her head, and in mostly good shape, save a few scars that revealed her status of a crime fighter. The newest of which was a circular mark on her right hip, courtesy of her nemesis, and one of his high powered arcane rays. Her breasts bounced which each step her took, but she took no measures to cover herself.
“Should I lie down? She asked finally, motioning to the gurney. She tried to keep a casual posture, as though she had no shame in being nude before him. She lied down now, keeping her legs closed together, in a manner she hoped wasn’t obviously concealing herself form him.
There were many times in life where Dr. Goode had question whether or not he was dreaming: frequently when he was dreaming, occasionally when he fled into one of the surreal could-have-been shadow realities to escape Scarlet Samurai and right now when he watched Himiko turn around and slowly, carefully take her clothes off. He had expected some fight, some balking, instead of the resignation he saw as she searched for somewhere to get naked without the long haired doctor watching.
Instead she turned her back.
Goode watched with fascination as her back muscles worked, slowly revealed when she peeled off her tank top. That almond skin with muscles smoothly pulling, flexing, relaxing, shaking side-to-side. He glanced down at himself and, thankful that she had turned her back, quickly shoved his hand down his pants and rearranged himself so that his physiological reaction wasn't as noteworthy. When he removed his hand from around his member her back was still turned and she was pushing her shorts off, athletic rear hypnotic in its movement.
Every movement was insight into a work of beauty. The whirling blade dervish's facade had been stripped away--Himiko, he thought, relishing her real name--and now she was just a little thing. A little thing who did as she was told, without complaint, and even!
His breath caught in his throat when she reached back and removed her bra, and then he thought his heart might explode when she worked her cute white panties down her athletic ass. Before he turned around Dr. Goode straightened his jet silt button-up, making sure it fell over and concealed the tell tale bulge that revealed his cock jutting from hem and pushed straight up against his belly. Like most men he had years of experience concealing the fact so his face was cool and detached as when she turned around.
A masterwork of composure in his opinion. He idly flicked a loose strand of hair back as he nodded, allowing that yes, she could lie on the gurney.
"There are a few of these pads to place against your body." He held up first pad and gently pushed his fox fingered hand beneath her head, gently lifting her head while he held the first pad against the back of her neck. At first it didn't feel like much except cloth, then it tingled as he slowly rubbed the pad onto the back of her neck before the tingling finally faded and she could feel his fingers rubbing back and forth against her neck where it seemed moments ago the pad had been. "Each sensors passes information to your nerve endings, simulating my touch against your neck."
He carefully removed his hand from beneath her head and neck, gently setting it back down on the table. He removed another palm sized pad from the box and carefully moved her left arm out, "And this one is going on your rib cage, Himiko. Let me know if you feel any discomfort..." As he rubbed the sensor into place his palm brushed against the side of her breast, seemingly accidentally, yet at the same time a steadied, measured caress.
You're touching Scarlet Samurai's boob right now, the twelve year old inside of his head said excitedly, all but bouncing around the inside of his skull. "The next is going to go on the small of your back, so roll over." He explained as his hand finally left the patch, his caresses translating through the palm sized sensor and into her soft flesh.
She appreciated the absolute professionalism Dr. Goode demonstrated as made her way to him, his eyes not ever leaving hers. Even as he worked on her, his gaze was always directed to the task, not gaping at her in the slightest. This of course reinforced the notion that she should follow his instructions, because he was doing this for her benefit. Once she finished the train course, she would be better for it.
She helped him as much as she could from her position, lifting her head as he applied the patch to the back of her neck. She moaned into her closed mouth as the pad tingled into his skin. Until she could no longer feel it at all, just his fingers on her bare skin.
“These are incredible,” She commented as he explained simply how it worked. “What vital information is it collecting?” Now he was moving her arm explaining this next one would sit on her ribcage. She nodded and lifted her arm over her head, giving him unfettered access to that area, her breasts forming a flatten teardrop shape as her arm was raised. She silently gasped as his brushed against her breast, looking up at him only to find apologetic eyes. Obviously an accident.
Liberty sent her here to regain her confidence after her near rape. It was unlikely and counterintuitive that he might send her somewhere where the doctor took advantage of his position to molest her.
“Right, she acknowledged his request, adjusting her position so she was on her side, facing away from him., the curved silhouette of body greatly exaggerated now. “How many more should I expect?” She asked, keeping still otherwise. “Will I be provided a paper gown once these are in place? Or will I be able to change back into my clothes?”
"Very good question, Himiko," Dr. Goode approvingly hummed, pressing a sensor into the small of her back just above the cleft of her rear. Sometime between the sensor tingling and his fingers insistently pressing against a knot in the small of his patient's back his other hand ended up folded over her hip, carefully holding her in place as the pad connected with her skin. "Each of the pads is a sensor. In some ways this a misnomer, in that each pad is in fact composed of billions of differentiated sensors. While your skin temperature and conductivity, blood oxygenation, vector and other individual quanta are measured each pad is specifically calibrated to leverage placement."
Once the knot was released Goode moved his quick fingers to the back of Himiko's neck, reassuringly squeezing, "This one--and do not forget, there is material here--helps measure electrical activity as it passes through your nervous system, giving deeper insight into your physical state."
Next his hand pressed against the pad on her rib cage, fingers gently moving her arm forward at the elbow to gain access. "Here we gain more finely grained insight into your cardiovascular and pulmonary systems, core temperature and other data."
Dr. Goode returned his attention to the pad at the small of her back. "Here we have a really interesting effect," the doctor's inner nerd began to shine through his voice and bright green eyes, intently looking at his patient, "where because of advances in technology we can image your internal organs based off data inputs of the other two thoracic sensor clusters.
"There is one more pad left, Himiko," he said, moving to press his fingertips against the inside of her left knee, applying pressure in what was more guidance than force. "We're going to be measuring your femoral artery, peripheral nervous and gives particular insight into kinesiology."
Realizing he had drowned his nemesis in a flood of jargon he said, "Everything we can, basically. These will be on your body for your stay at the Center and, if you'd like, beyond them. Once I've applied the final sensor we will quickly calibrate them, you will don athletic clothing we have selected for you and we will take baseline physical readings."
She listened politely as he told her about the pads, and how each one served a different purpose. And while he might have been spouting jargon, she got the gist of what he was talking about. She wasn’t an idiot, after all.
So, the one on her neck measured her nervous system, her brain basically. Made sense. The one on her rib cage was her heart and lungs and temperature. Also made sense. The one on her back was…CAT scan?Ultrasound? Something like that, maybe she could ask him to explain it better in the future. And the last one.
"We're going to be measuring your femoral artery, peripheral nervous and gives particular insight into kinesiology."
Femoral artery? She knew that meant, and his fingers on her knee confirmed her suspicions. That was on the upper inside of her thigh, precariously close to… She blushed heavily now, shifting a little on the table. She could feel her core tightening, his fingers on her knee sending lightning through her body. Which, if she had understood correctly, he could detect with the pad on her neck.
“That last pad. If you are measuring along the femoral artery, that means my thighs, right? So I need to give you access to my thighs?” She asked, essential twice, hoping she was mistaken, but knowing deep down she wasn’t. Her breathing quicken, her heart raced, which he could tell because of the pad on her ribs. And the pad on her neck would detect her increased anxiety, or so she thought and the one on her back…okay, she still wasn’t sure about that one.
He is a professional. She reminded herself, looking up into his unusual green eyes, breathtaking in their vibrancy. Liberty recommended this place to me. Liberty was a good guy, and he was only looking out for the best interest of the team as a whole. She took a deep breath and spread her knees outward, her pink slit ever so slightly exposed now. If he tried to open her thighs wider, she would only resist for a moment.
Liberty had been right when he coolly multiplied his payment by a factor of a hundred. The man had stared his own face in Hierophant's mirror helmet and explained, succinctly and bluntly, what his retainer meant. Full access to the Rescue Front and--more importantly--full access to the red kensai. While Hierophant had approached Liberty on a whim he had not expected the infamously pragmatic hero to take him up on it.
Until the moment Himiko nervously spread her legs for him, revealing a flash of her vibrant pink pussy, he had been somewhat concerned that this was a trap. She would never do this for Hierophant, though. The undercover villain considered how close he had been before when they fought and all that stood between him and her sex were those lacy panties, a blatant taunt. Dr. Goode slid his left hand beneath Himiko's topmost knee and pulled upwards while he grabbed the final pad. He insisted past her token resistance until her legs were spread wide.
He kept his eyes focused on the woman's face as he pressed the fabric against the inside of her left thigh, the side of his hand barely an inch away from her pink lips. The doctor rubbed in the same methodical fashion he had with each of the other pads, past where the sensors had begun sending information to her nervous system. "Just a moment more, Himiko, and we're going to calibrate the pads. I'm going to have you roll over onto your back for that."
Her thigh was hot, pressed against his chest and the side of his flat stomach. He canted his body so that his still throbbing erection wouldn't rub against her leg, hidden beneath his button-up as it was. His silk shirt softly susurrus across her skin as he held her leg up. "There we go, that should be good." He removed his hand from her leg, nearly brushing against her bare mound in the process.
"Now turn over onto your back, take a deep breathe and relax," he commanded his patient as he walked around his desk to open his laptop, clever fingers quickly flying across the keyboard. "We will get this show on the road in just a moment..."
With his face down, staring at the computer while he went through menus, entered credentials and thought deeply about what he was doing.
Scarlet fucking Samurai just opened her quivering little legs for me. I could nearly smell her getting wet, the little slut... He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, gnawing on it while he thought about how well this was going. She had already placed so much trust in him--he could have saved hundreds of thousands in cash, priceless favors and relationships, so much face in the community if he had just done this years ago!
"You may feel a tingle..." He tapped enter and looked up at the naked heroine on the gurney while the pads serially cycled through a preset series of calibration measures. Each pad was checked sequentially, starting with her neck and culminating with her thigh.
The first calibration sent a sensation of spreading warmth through each pad. The sensation lasted for half a minute before shifting to cold, and then eliciting a strange sensation of induced pleasure. Each pad felt like a caress, one that spread beyond to the area surrounding the sensor.
His bright eyes flicked back and forth between his patient and the screen, full of professional focus.
She followed his directions, keeping her face as serene as possible through out, but unable to avoid blushing as his hand caressed her thigh, so close to her slit. She flinched as his almost brushed against her pelvis, biting her lower lip in some combination of fear and arousal.
Now it was time to turn back to her back, and since he was done applying the sensor, she didn’t see any problem with closing her legs. She did as he asked, breathing in long rhythmic fashion, calming her body almost perfectly. For added measure, she closed her eye, giving in to utter relaxation.
First she felt some warmth on her neck and back. Like the sun coming out on a cloudy day, and hitting your back for the first time. It grew more intense, like that first stream of a hot shower and then like pressing a heating pad against a sore muscle. It reached that point where it would hurt if it got any hotter, before dialing down again. Back to shower, to warm day and to normal. And then even colder, like a pleasant breeze on a hot day. Colder still, like a cool shower one would take to wake one up in the morning, and finally like a strong blizzard wind when the snow had piled up high.
The sudden sensation of hot to cold was a bit disorienting. The only frame of reference she had was alternating form hot to cold when one was suffering from an injury. Still very little could have prepared her for what came next.
With her eye closed, she could imagine a hand coming around to caress her skin. Along her neck, like a gentle neck rub, that spread out over her shoulders and down her back. She sighed as she felt an invisible force massaging her tenderly running fingers along her bare skin. It ended as quickly as it began, with the same pattern repeating on her ribs once more. Hot then cold then hands on her waist, moving up like the gentle stroke of a lover, until she was sure it felt like a hand cupping her breast. She moaned now, growing warmer without the aid of the sensors.
“Is it supposed to feel like that?” She said with a gasp, as the feeling along her chest began to dissipate. It occurred to her she was being somewhat vague. “It felt like I was being touched.” And the pattern was beginning on her back now, going the way one might expect. After the cold sensation passed, she could feel the phantom hand, tracing down her spine, sending shivers through her body and eliciting a quick gasp. Then it could be felt brushing against the softness of her ass, squeezing so slightly before dispersing.
She was trying to stay calm, but her body was growing hot now, hotter than the sultry island heat. The same cycle resumed on her thigh, with each part coming off more intense, because of the sensitivity of the surrounding area. The heat felt like her body burning form the inside out, craving the touch of a lover. Even as the sensor stopped sending that sensation, her body maintained a similar temperature. The cold brought a loud cry from her lips, as though a teasing lover had rubbed ice of over her delicate flesh.
And then the pleasure began. Like a lovers hands, rubbing her thighs, opening them up to gain admission to her molten core. Fingers danced along her slit, and the tips were just threatening to breach her sex. She was breathing hard, despite her attempts to keep calm. A musky scent was filling the room, undeniable proof that she was getting quite aroused.
The doctor bit his tongue, hard. His toes curled in his dress shoes as he slowly focused on the pain in his mouth over the absolutely entrancing display. Each glance down to watch the display was a victory in self control, vibrant eyes staring down into a well of information.
Goode through back to his fit of pique after the humiliation she dealt him in their last encounter; capturing a high value minion he regarded as more of a colleague than employee, one of the longest running in his gang of con artists, physicists and strong men. He had decided to tweak the calibration process. He had intentionally cranked up the field of effect for each patch's transmission. The carbon nanotubes that transmitted information to her nerves had indelibly and painlessly anchored the patches to her flesh and in the process infiltrated her nervous system. With their help he could control sensation over nontrivial swathes of her body, eliciting fascinating responses like the one in front of him.
"Yes, Himiko, that is confirming the pressure response," he answered in an upbeat monotone, as though totally unaware of her mewling. The blush that spread across her face, eye tightly shut next to her mysterious black eye patch. He watched it with a certain amount of intrigue, toying with the idea of hypothetically removing it one day and licking the gnarled pit of scar tissue he assumed was there.
The display showed her core temperature raising as the calibration sequence moved down her body, electrical flow along her peripheral nervous system intensifying as endorphins began flooding her brain. Her loud cry brought his rapt attention, pushing him over a precarious line he had been walking. His cock began to leak beads of clear precum, rolling down his hard shaft and beading at the hem of his trousers. He suppressed a shiver when Himiko's knees slightly parted, her musky, warm scent hitting his nostrils full force.
Dr. Goode pushed a few loose strands of long black hair as he purposefully strode around the desk, putting a hand on his patient's naked shoulder. The feel of her muscle moving, chest expanding and the sheer heat of her suffusing his palm was like something out of a wet dream. His face was composed, "Do you need anything?"
“Are we almost done? I think I need a break,” she admitted, running her fingers through her own hair. It was damp with sweat, and more than the natural heat of the humid air. “Maybe a glass of cold water?” She sighed as his hand rested on her shoulder overwhelmed by sensations, so much that she had to look and physically see that it was there.
She wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say. That I don’t date a lot given my profession. That it has been awhile since I have had a pleasure sexual encounter. The last guy she had been with was a torrid affair with fellow hero Quick Shot, but he performed about as well as his name would have suggested. There wasn’t anything the good Dr. Goode could do for, not really. It’s not like she could ask him to fuck her brains out.
“Is my response to this stimuli overstated? Or was this the intended outcome for this test?” She asked, beginning to be able to calm down. She sat up now and closed her legs, her face a deep crimson at her lustful display. She had to wonder if her frustrated sex life was to blame for this excessive display, or if Dr. Goode intended to get this result out of her.
“What can you tell me about the next part of the calibration. I recall earlier you explained that I would be given something to wear, and would exercise. So that more baseline could be taken. Could you elaborate on that?” Of course now she looked around the room, at the various equipment available in here. She could identify analogous equipment that one might find common setting, and she tried to mentally evaluate how each one worked.
Himiko's composure was impressive. Dr. Goode dragged his fingers from her sweat slicked shoulders and returned to the laptop on his desk, closing out the calibration procedure and turning his attention to his mentee and victim. "That was not the intended outcome for the test," he baldly lied as he headed towards the lab sink.
"What it looked like is that there was a combination of apparent nerve density on your side and poor signal-to-noise ratio on our side," he explained as he ran water under his fingers from the facet. He calmly waited until the liquid was chilly enough to sate her thirst before filling a clear plastic cup with it. "Due to the calibration test that's been resolved."
Dr. Goode handed the cup to her, "You can find clothing in that island," he pointed to a floating desk with drawers filling the space between its legs. The only clothing available were gray cotton workout shorts with a pink fringe and string and a tight gray top, similarly pink fringed. Without breaking stride he made his way to a cluster of machinery.
It was once a treadmill. Since the device had been overbuilt and secured in place, ready for the kind of depredations a super could be subjected to subject exercise equipment to. Fully hardened it was a hulking black thing, shiny as a beetle's scarab and covered with reinforced black. The tracks the treadmill's belt sat on were shiny and new, freshly serviced and gleaming. Clustered around the treadmill were a variety of displays that were currently blank. Upon inspection it became obvious that there were meant for graphs and collecting information about speed, weight, force.
Most of the other equipment that Himiko could recognize was exercise gear that had been extensively ruggedized and augmented to deal with the stresses of super fitness. The rest seemed a mixture of lab equipment, secure storage and boxey office printer sized machines that hummed and cryptically blinked.
The villain took a few deep breathes through his nose as he flicked the monster treadmill on. He turned around to face Himiko once she had finished dressing, "Start us off with a jog and then build to your maximum sprint."
He spouted more jargon at her now, as he tried to explain what happened. She definitely wasn’t following any of this. She was more sensitive than he expected? The sensor was turned up too high? At least they were testing it now, so these sorts of kinks could be ironed out.
“Thank you,” She told him gratefully as he brought her water, bring her eye up to his now. He didn’t seem to be judging her for getting wet during a routine physical assessment, and that made her feel much better. She drank down the cup in one gulp, reveling in the cool water quenching her thirst. A little bit dribbled down her chin as she sought relief from the fire that threatened to engulf her loins.
While his back was to her, she watched him move, wondering if there was something familiar about him. Nothing concrete really, just some vague notion that this wasn’t there first interaction. Once her course was over, she would have to ask Liberty what he know about the guy. But for now, she was going to have to get her head out of the gutter.
She knew one way to fight against the desire that was looming over her. Heirophant, and her utter hatred of him, ought to be a good way to get her mind away from thought of letting Dr. Goode pin her down on the gurney and fill her with cock. She could imagine Hierophant’s reaction if he knew she was at a place like this. If he knew that a recent fearful encounter had sent into what was pretty much therapy, he would use it against her.
Constantly taunting her with intimidations, things he would do to her. He wouldn’t even do it out of lust, just pure hatred for her. He seemed to enjoy provoking her, captivating her energy and attention. She had often considered their relationship to be similar to that of a petulant child, behaving badly knowing that his mother would not ignore him.
It was only because Liberty had promised her to keep on eye on her nemesis, and she could even consider this retreat. Liberty was more than capable, and she was glad to have someone so dedicated on her team.
She went over to the island as he suggested, and pulled out the clothes provided for her. She slipped them on, finding the gray fitness top clung tightly to her breasts and the shorts equally tight over her ass. She was dressed now, but it didn’t feel much like being dressed, given how these clothes fit. Still Dr Goode hadn’t gaped at her while she was nude, so she doubted this would be any different or worse.
She was impressed with the craftsmanship of the equipment he had, rivaling the kinds of things had at Rescue Front Headquarters. She stepped up on the treadmill, starting slow, as he asked, with a mild jog. Her breasts bounced as she moved, jiggling in connection with her spend. She ran faster, matching the speeds of male Olympians without yet breaking a sweat. She wasn’t the fastest member of Rescue front, between Strong Man and Quick Shot, but she was impressive none the less, reaching speeds of thirty miles per hour as she pushed herself to her limits.
It was absolutely fascinating to record Himiko's performance. Not being one given to keeping people in captivity and studying them, particularly not superhumans, Dr. Goode had never run a person through a set of physicals like this. He had never seen a woman's legs nearly blur as she ran, nostrils flaring to suck in air as she hit her peak speed. For his part the good doctor was merely collecting data, watching his all but nude mentee establish her continuum of aptitude.
"Fascinating, just, absolutely, fascinating," he said as Himiko stepped off the treadmill.
Next he had her done on a bench press. While it was more or less normal in that one could use to press, the bench itself was made out of concrete with a thick memory foam pad on top. The weight was a hydraulic press, each side of the bar set over the bench anchored into a large triangular box housing a complicated assortment of gears and weights. The upshot of the heavy machinery was a variable weight bench press that could move north of forty ton mark.
"Please get into a press position. The resistance is starting at one hundred pounds and will rise by ten pounds for each rep until you hit your fail point. Once that occurs please signal," he smoothly explained as his fox fingers flew over the touch screen interface on the side of the device. He looked down at Himiko, her little arms, her compact body. After she had stepped off the treadmill he could see the tight shorts pressing against her sex, her cleft ever so slightly visible through them. Especially now, with her feet on either side of the bench.
"Is there anything I should be aware of concerning your extraordinary abilities?" He asked in the same kind of tone your doctor uses when asking about whether or not you've smoked crystal meth and how many people you've had unprotected sex with.
“My powers aren’t too impressive overall. Super strength, super speed and super stamina. My max running speed is only a little faster than the fastest men alive, but I can maintain that speed for far longer than they can. To wit, my current marathon time is 50 minutes and 37 second, almost two and a half times faster than the current human record holder. Last I had checked I could lift three thousand pounds.”
She explained all this as she worked through the first thousand pounds on the weights, hardly straining at all in that time. After thirty minutes time, doing ten reps a minutes, she was starting to hit the wall. Grunting and straining against the extra weight, her muscles clenching tightly,well-defined under her soft skin. Five more minutes of exertion before she topped off at 3180 pounds.
“I…can’t. I can’t…go…anymore,” She panted out her breasts heaving heavily during her last rep. She lied there on the bench, limply. Her arms hung down at her sides and touched the floor, her knees were no longer bent, but relaxed, still spread wide open for him, as though the workout had dulled her modesty.
“What’s wrong Scarlet? Can’t you move anymore?” Came the taunting, electronic monotone. Scarlet, clenched the wound on her hip slightly concerning he had managed to land the ray, and that it was hurting her this much. She had retreated just a bit, taking the fight to where she could better defend herself, especially one handed. A hallway way, where his minions would have to bottleneck through to get to her. She was striking down her foes well enough, enough to know this was too easy. A shadow passed alongside her, devoid of its master, but she knew what meant.
“Right behind you ̶“ Came the voice, but she already knew. Her elbow caught him in the throat. A wide slashing twist had the last of his minions down, and him on her feet, with a katana poking his chest.
“You’d do better if you could learn to shut up.”
“What is next?” She asked the doctor, once her vigor had returned.
"Uh... Huh." Dr. Goode narrowed his eyes, berating himself for never thinking of it before.
Her fucking endurance is unbelievable! He marveled at the way she smoothly sailed through an exercise that would kill even an Olympian athlete. Her control only began to waver after she had transitioned from the one ton to one point five. With graphs automatically notated with comparisons to normal human behavior it quickly became apparent that on paper a petite woman bench pressing a Prius didn't sound as impressive as it was. That she kept on lifting that Prius for a full minute and a half before needing to stop was all the more impressive.
It was no wonder he had never beaten her in a straight one-on-one. In the days before she held her legs open for him on a memory foam pad he had almost always needed to resort to misdirection to land a blow, like the distraction of six other selves running screaming, threatening, cajoling, begging.
This time there would be no Hierophant illusions muddying the waters. Just this Dr. Goode, and his rebranded minions.
"Come with me. We are segueing into open handed, close quarters combat." He walked to a door in the open laboratory space. On the other side was a fifteen by thirty foot room. Every inch of the floor was covered in heavy rubber padding, as well as the walls up to five feet on a side. The padding was red and the wall above the sign egg shell color as the rest of the house.
More pertinent to Himiko's attention was a group of three men. Two were in their early twenties and one, the most confident of the three, was in his mid thirtires. They each wore a paramilitary uniform: khakis, black t-shirts and laced up combat boots. Each obviously focused on physical training given their bulging muscles. "These gentleman are proficient grapplers. You will alternate your sparring exercise between each of the three until you or all three hit a point of failure."
Dr. Goode made a sweeping motion, "Go easy on them, Himiko. They are mere mortals in the presence of your glory." He crooked a finger at the trio and they made their way forward.
The oldest put out a thick, calloused hand to shake Himiko's, "Sergeant Brenner." The two younger men in their early twenties nodded and introduced themselves as Privates Brown and Stone. The former was thick with muscle like corded muscle wrapping down his arms and the latter so dark skinned skin his eyes were pearls set in his face.
"Whenever you're ready you may begin, starting with one of the Privates and then the Sergeant."
Himiko nodded to each of the men, shaking Brenner’s hand with the same measured strength she had shown earlier. The privates were probably a year to two younger than she was, and all towered over her, with one hundredand fifty to two hundred pounds on her slight frame. Still, unless they were fellow super humans or Liberty, she knew they didn’t stand a chance.
Himiko took up a jujitsu stance, with her right hand open and extended out in front of her, left hand open, but bend at the elbow and kept close to her chest. Her right leg stepped forward, legs slightly more than shoulder width apart to give her a strong support. She nodded to signal the first private to engage.
Private Brown stepped into her space and threw a right jab. Himiko’s left snaked out to grab the blow, while her right hand connected with his chin in an open palm strike from below. She stepped into his body now, pulling her captive arm over her and flipped him down on the floor, over her back.
Private Stone was next, leading with a powerful left hook. Himiko sidestepped out of the way, clutching the wrist that missed her. She pulled his arm, taking him off balance before hitting a quick palm strike right on his shoulder joint, knocking him to the floor.
Private Brown was up again, waiting for her to strike first this time. Himiko fakes with her left, seizing the hand that came up to block her blow. Her right came next, connecting with his face, and then again at the elbow. She tossed him down by that arm now and completed the maneuver with a strong strike to the chest while he was on the ground.
Stone came back with a powerful right hook. Himiko’s right hand caught his wrist, while her left assaulted the elbow. With both hands, she bent both joints inward, pulling her opponent close. A strong knee to his gut had him doubled over, and she bent over to pull him over by his knees.
Brenner came at her now, lunging with his left. Himiko smacked it away from her with her own left. Brenner followed up with a right, which Himiko ducked under flawlessly. She came up with a right kick to his midsection, followed immediately with a left kick to his shoulder, which he only just blocked. She pulled his right wrist closer to her now, and struck his neck with a left-handed chop, sending him down.
Each strike Himiko made exert just enough strength to complete her action, never more than necessary. Her body adapted to kinetic information she received form her surrounding, making adjustments on the fly to optimize her performance. Mostly she relied on speed to evade and counter her opponents, utilizing only a tenth of her power.
There was always a beautiful economy of motion when Himiko fought. Even when he was behind his helmet Goode was impressed by the way every movement appeared planned three steps in advanced, planned and executed. The event that got Scarlet Samurai to the Center had underlined a weakness that Liberty had only been too happy to point out upon his retainer's deposit: the heroine faltered under concerted attack. Albeit the teamwork had to be solid and the opponents highly skilled, normal humans could take her down.
This exercise was just confirming the doctor's hypothesis concerning her independent martial prowess. In the end it was the three staffers who tapped out, and in the order they had fought the doctor. First Brown, nursing a shoulder from a well executed throw. Then Stone, limping when he landed funny from a trip.Finally Brenner with two black eyes where he landed face first into the matted floor.
Each filed out of the room, shaking Himiko's hand and thanking her for her superior demonstration of fighting ability.
"That was quite impressive, Himiko. I take it you had some trainer?" The doctor asked when the exercise had wrapped up, leading her back through the lab space and onto the building's deck. Since her arrival in the building two wicker chairs had materialized along with a bottle of gin, two cocktail glasses, a small cooler of ice and cold tonic on a small glass table between the two seats.
He dunked each glass into the cooler for a generous helping of ice before pouring out each drink, heavy on the tonic and light on the gin. Afterwards he plopped down in a chair in the sweltering heat, looking up at the blue sky. "I wanted to give you a toast. You've done wonderfully so far and I look forward to our time together at the Center. I think you will make an apt pupil."
“I trained in jujitsu before I had even developed my super powers,” She admitted to him, taking a seat. “It’s an ideal style for someone of my frame. It uses an opponent’s momentum against them, and attacks joints to keep them off balance. It allows an unarmed practitioner to do combat against armed and armored combatants, safely and effectively. I was actually ranked third in the world in the women’s lightweight division when I was 15. Afterwards I started developing super human abilities, and I stopped competing, out of fairness. “ She told him, almost surprising herself with the amount of information she was giving out. Was she bragging? Was she trying to impress him? Perhaps slightly, she didn’t often get a chance to relish in her accomplishments.
She watched him carefully as he poured the drinks, the somewhat casual nature of interaction. It was hard to let herself be comfortable around him like this, given how much of her he had already seen. How much of her he had already touched, as he applied the sensors. Not too mention her own lingering arousal, and attraction to the man.
“Thank you, Dr. Goode. I look forward to completing the training course and coming out of this with more tools and resources to utilize in the future.” She took a polite sip of the drink, keeping her eye on him.
“Liberty gave me a basic overview of what it is you do here, but I was hoping you could elaborate further. What methodologies will you utilize to improve my mental fortitude and interrogation resistance? How will my focus and discipline was developed in ways that will benefit my… profession?”
Third in the world, Dr. Goode thought, appreciatively nodded. He chuckled at 'lightweight,' considering the three soldiers she had trounced over and over again in the sparring room and the time she dropped him through a table. More than that he was again struck by her openness. Name, biographical history--he would have a field day tracking down information about her friends and family. Still, he wanted to know about that mysterious eye patch of her, so perfectly bisecting her face.
Too soon. Too soon to pull it down and kiss, to press his lips against the bridge of her nose and whisper her beauty, to have her clutching at his shoulders in quiet hunger while he tongued her empty socket.
He took a sip of his drink, relishing the ice cold water that ran past his tongue and sluiced down his throat. Though still he appeared totally unaffected by the heat, having yet to bead one sweat droplet, it was utterly refreshing.
"Typically we focus on enhancing client stamina. In your profession in particular great strides can be made coaching around fatigue, both physical and mental. However you have a banner level of endurance, even among those of your powered peers we've studied." He leaned back, green eyes glancing up at the sky's darkening hue.
"That being said we tailor each regime to our client's particular needs. Yours, is going to be more mental than physical. I am going to put you into situations of controlled chaos, I am going to make you confront yourself and I am going to teach you that what is at first glance a loss is a victory behind a facade." With his short speech done he drained his glass and poured himself another.
"I am going to push you to the edge of your comfort zones and beyond. So far you have the makings of an absolute diamond, Himiko. I've... I'm not going to lie," the day's events had weighed on the doctor in a curious manner, "I've been always been a fan of a certain member of the Rescue Front. It's an absolute delight to work on making you more fully performing in adverse situations."
In a way he had always been Scarlet's biggest fan. He had studied her techniques, the particular justice driven interests that caught her attention and fruitlessly searched for substance based weaknesses. There never seemed to be a lever to pull and he was left thinking about a dancing devil, a flurry of blades and loose crimson sleeves. A secret concealed in a beautiful face.
She listened to his explanation, which was both more information about the program, and incredibly vague. She still didn’t what he was going to do specifically to “making [her] more fully performing in adverse situations.” Was he going to draw on the experiences that lead her to seek out his services? She shuddered at the thought, as buried memories bubbles towards the surface.
“Where are you going, girl?” Some punks had called form the steps of the train station, while they passed around a bottle of cheap booze and a couple cigarettes. She kept her eyes forward and walked around their rambunctious display.
“Are you deaf bitch?” The same one called out, as his friends laughed. She stood at the far side of the tracks, willing the train to come faster. One audacious man made his way over to her, two of his friend following a few stapes behind.
“Hey slut! If you want to use our train station, it’s a 2,000 yen. Or you can blow me.” He threatened, his friends snickering behind him. He came up to where she was standing now, just a few feet away from her. She was alone in the station now, and she was going to have to defend herself, if she didn’t want to be robbed and raped. She took position, open palms extended away from her body.
“This stupid slut thinks she can fight us off?” The leader laughed, until the palm of her hand hit his chin, causing him to bite his tongue and stumble backwards. A shorter, skinnier friend of his rushed her, trying to tackle her down, but she sidestepped well, and tripped him with her ankle. His bigger friend made his attempt now, throwing a heavy haymaker her way. She grabbed at his wrist, as she had so often practiced in training, but the sheer strength and force of his blow was greater than she could defend against. He connected the hit, knocking her down against the nearby walls.
The leader stepped up now, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. The sharp gleam of his weapon was threatening her with its implications, as blood drooled down his chin. She tried to defend as he brought it up to her, catching his wrist in her hand once more. It was now a contest of strength, as both tried to gain control of the weapon. A kick to her gut from his buddy distracted her enough to lose the dispute. The last thing her right eye saw was the gleam of the knife as it sunk into the soft flesh, and the pain that radiating through her body.
“Holy shit dude, I think you killed her!” One called, as the train was pulling up. The three took off into a sprint, as the tiny girl shrieked in utter agony, her bloodcurdling cry echoing through the empty station.
She shuddered as the memory played out in her head, finished her drink, to push down the darkness threatening to unnerve her. It was working, somewhat, in conjunction with the kind words from Dr. Goode, as he professed admiration for her. She looked down into the empty glass, letting a slight ruby cross her face.
He was in many ways, a man she could see herself dating. He was smart, and pretty successful in his career. He was good looking, and in great shape with those smoldering green eyes that seemed to see into her soul. And he already knew about her alter ego, and was seemingly fine, with it, which was probably the biggest obstacle to any relationship she would want to pursue. Of course, nothing could happen between them while she was under his care, but maybe once she completed the program.
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