Flechette had no superpowers to protect her in facing down supervillains. Just her own strength, her own skills, and whatever equipment she could carry. On most days, that was enough. Flechette’s keen mind and deep knowledge of how supervillains operated made her a valuable member of the Libido League and a thorn in the side of Skarlette City’s underworld.

When that keen mind picked up indications that the supervillainess Marionette was active, Flechette made sure she was prepared. Flechette knew she would need more than her trusty bow and collection of hi-tech arrows that could stun the criminal, smoke her out, trap her in a net, or entangle her. Marionette’s superpower of working girls like puppets when her enthralling fingers slipped inside them was very dangerous. Several members of the Libido League had succumbed to Marionette’s seductive touch over the years.

Flechette wasn’t about to give the villainess an opening. Over her tight, kevlar pants, she strapped thick body armor. No one’s fingers are getting anywhere near my panties, or beneath them.

When she finally tracked Marionette to her hideout, it was a huge, abandoned sex club. Little alcoves, gauzy curtains, and secret passages made the place like a maze. While Flechette was keen enough to track the smallest indication Marionette had passed by, the building itself denied her any line of sight. She could find herself on top of her quarry with no warning. It was a risk Flechette was willing to take. She’d already called in for backup, so Lodestone and the Lark should be here any minute. But there was no time to wait for them, Marionette might escape.

Moving quickly through the small rooms, Flechette picked her way between lush floor pillows, chains hanging from the ceiling, and dust-covered paintings of erotic scenes. She’d come to a beaded curtain and was about to step through when a noise behind her prompted her to spin around. On the floor, a huge vibrator buzzed out the last of its battery life. Just a false alarm, Flechette thought.

A graceful hand shot out from between the strings of beads, catching the heroine’s cheek. Slim fingers pressed between her lips. Flechette knew she should turn, should bite, should struggle. But as the dextrous digits massaged her mouth and teased her tongue, all she could do was moan. The pleasure of their touch felt like her mouth had become as sensitive as her pussy. Flechette tried to bring her stun-arrow to bear, but her bow clattered to the floor, her hands trembling.

A woman stepped through the beaded curtain, pulling close behind Flechette. “What rough, ugly clothing, my little toy. Why don’t you show Mistress what you have to offer? Then I’ll decide how best to dress you up.”

Flechette tried to shake her head, but the silken fingers were already sliding in and out of her mouth. Each stroke brought the heroine closer and closer to orgasmic release. But not quite far enough. She found that moving her body in a certain way helped the pleasure go a little further, burn a little hotter. For every clasp she unfastened on her body armor, Flechette felt another white-hot jolt of bliss arcing through her body. In the face of such desire, Flechette’s resistance melted away. Every twitch of a finger in her mouth moved her arms and legs like she were a living puppet.

Nothing had ever felt so good.

Minutes of delicious agony passed as Flechette stripped herself naked, casting aside the only protection that might have saved her from what lay ahead. Her orgasm was so close, she couldn’t care about that. Raising her arms above her head, she felt steel chains wrap themselves around her wrists. Lodestone? She somehow found the strength to wonder.

The commanding fingers slipped out of her mouth. Suddenly, Flechette was herself again, drool running down her chin. Forcing her pleasure-heavy eyes to focus, she saw Lodestone and the Lark enter the small room. “Be … careful,” she muttered through a mouth still pulsing with the afterimage of ecstasy. “It’s … Marionette.”

“Of course it is, Flechette,” said the Lark as she dropped to her knees. “She’s already taught us our place.”

“Today you get to learn your place,” said Lodestone, taking her place on the floor. “You’re such a lucky fuck-puppet.”

Flechette’s head spun at the betrayal. She pulled against her chains. “No … you can’t already be her … oh.”

A shape of solid pleasure slid into Flechette’s naked pussy.

Her thoughts stopped, her defiance stopped, her questioning stopped. Every bit of her was paralyzed by bliss. Her whole being was seized by a pure, pulsing ecstasy that could not be denied. Pleasure so hot it seared her soul, marking it with the sign of her devotion to her Mistress, now and forever: Mistress Marionette.

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A sequel of sorts to Overlooked, for all my readers who love Marionette.

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Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?