General Disclaimers: While it features no ‘on-screen’ sexual activity or explicit adult situations, this hypnofetish story does contain examples of fictional characters doing illegal, immoral and/or impossible things to other fictional characters. If you are under the age of consent in your community, are disturbed by such concepts, or want graphic sex in your online pornography, then for goshsakes stop reading now!
Permission is granted to re-post for free to any electronic medium, as long as no fee whatsoever is charged to view it, and this disclaimer and e-mail address (firstname.lastname@example.org) are not removed. It would also be nice if you told me you were posting it.
Copyright Voyer, 2011.
Specific Disclaimers: This story is set in the same universe inhabited by Commander Amazing and Doctor Fang, but it's a big world, and neither of them can be everywhere at once. Also, I have drawn pictures of some of these characters before, but this is the first time I've written about them.
Dedicated to Syndrome.
The backdrop, a vast cavern gnawed ages ago out of the solid rock deep under the city, glitter-encrusted walls arching high into the gloom, merging finally far overhead into a collection of stalactites, their jagged tips just slashing into view. Open metal catwalks ran around and around, along which stumped bulky figures clad in black body-armor and gleaming featureless helmets. The floor beneath was a polished sheet of black, with a thick network of even blacker cracks running across it. The space between all of this, crammed to near-overflowing with an awe-inspiring display: glass and metal pipes branching and running in every direction, belching steam, shrieks and noxious fumes, stack after stack of computer data banks humming ominously with power, electricity dancing and sparking across every conceivable (and a few inconceivable) gaps, display screens of every shape and size, spilling out endless and conflicting torrents of data. The resulting light, illuminating the central control panel: an endless array of buttons, switches, knobs and in the absolute final center, a line of gigantic levers. And beside these controls, two figures.
The first man was tall and thin, his long white labcoat starched and immaculate,
a few strands of graying hair patiently teased across the vast dome which was his skull; beneath which
his features narrowed sharp and lean to a pointed chin. He pulled a heavy arm-length glove into place with a final triumphant snap of
rubber, and adjusted his equally massive and black goggles.
The Brains of the entire operation.
The second man lurked to one side, almost as tall, but verging on scrawny; much of his height was actually supplied by his hair, which exploded from the top of his head in a great black mass and proceeded to run rampant. The face beneath bore some resemblance to a root; solid, functional and instantly forgettable. He too wore goggles, gloves and labcoat, but they were far less impressive, and far more grungy.
His general appearance was lumpy, with numerous tools poking from a multitude of pockets. His hands twisted around each other, a habit cut in a deep groove.
The Brains laughed and struck a triumphant pose.
“Finally! All is in readiness! My hour approaches!”
Twitch gulped, shifting his prominent Adam’s apple about.
“Um.. I dunno, boss. I’m still not sure that the-”
“Silence, fool! Prepare to pull the Final Lever!”
Nerve gulped again, harder, and scuttled toward the indicated station, the last and, naturally, very biggest of the levers.
The Brains strode to a particular unmarked spot, planted his boots (a match in every way to the gloves) and looked up at the largest of the monitors, a gigantic thing mounted directly above the controls. Displayed was a red slash of numbers, suspended, waiting in anticipation. The Brains lifted a clenched fist..
“And so.. the final countdown begins! Nothing can stop me n-”
The explosion ripped through one of the far walls on the eastern side of the cave, sending chunks of stone and twisted bits of catwalk in all directions. A body clad in black armor landed with a heavy thud not far from where the Brains was standing, still smoking and twitching.
Through the resulting hole came floating a dark-skinned woman, masked and clad in purple, her short cape spread behind her, the gems attached to her hands and feet, head and chest all flashing arcane power as she descended to the floor.
“Criminy!” Nerve yelped. “Shakra!” And then.. “The whole The Valkyrie Squad!”
For sure enough, next through the hole bounded an amazonian flash of tawny yellow and brown. It, she, landed for an instant on a smoldering perch, her tufted tail thrashing with excitement, than sprang again even as the tortured chunk metal gave away beneath her. Tail and long wild hair trailing, she plowed into the surviving knot of guards who had rushed to the scene. More black bodies went flying.
And last a thin black line, zipping straight down to the floor and anchoring itself, and sliding down that line, a slender gray-blue figure wearing a streamlined helmet, her free hand holding something shaped much like a magician’s wand, but covered with blinking lights and topped with a tiny spinning antenna. As she followed Shakra to the floor, she waved the device and wherever it passed, machinery clonked and went silent. The one stray guard who had avoided Ocelot Girl charged her, and she felled him with a karate-chop to the neck, the glowing edge of her hand sparking against his armor.
Ocelot Girl finished with the rest of the guards, and dropped to the floor as well. The three of them advanced, Shakra in the middle, still floating a few inches above the floor. She spoke:
“It’s all over, Brains. Surrender now and face justice.”
The Brains laughed and spread his arms wide.
“Welcome, Valkyrie Squad. We have been expecting you!”
Nerve gaped, still clutching the Final Lever as a drowning man might clutch at a life preserver.
The Brains stomped his foot against the floor, once, twice. There was a flash of sickly green, which crackled out from that point across the entire floor. From every crack sprang a twisting mass of tendrils, the same bright green but clearly not in any way plants, glittering and metallic, spewing in an instant across every inch of the floor and rising into the air much like Nerve’s hair. The only exceptions, two careful circles, one large and one quite small, around the Brains and Nerve.
And of course, in the same flickering instant the tendrils also wrapped their way up Shakra and Mechanique’s legs, up the curves of their bodies. Shakra’s power-gems flashed in defiance, the tendrils recoiled for a moment, but only a moment, then swarmed in relentlessly, and the gems flickered and went dark. As did all the various devices Mechanique had attached and strapped to various portions of her anatomy, many of them going further and destroying themselves in a series of tiny emphatic explosions that left the underlying uniform undamaged but stained with black blotches. The science-wand shivered itself to pieces, the antenna tip flying away. Then the tendrils wrapped around their heads, glowing ever-brighter, and all struggles ceases. The two heroine hung like puppets, twitching, unblinking.
Ocelot Girl, her reflexes razor-edged, sprang high into the air and just grabbed at a overhanging
length of metal. But just as she started to swing up out of reach, a single pursuing tendril snagged around one spotted ankle, yanked her back, swarmed up her leg, was joined by a dozen more, and she was pulled down, ripping the metal away with her. She dragged (nearly) back to earth, completely enveloped even as she growled and slashed. She became like her teammates, paralyzed and helpless, except that she floated vertical, a foot or two above the floor.
A pause, a click, and the strands shifted, passed the woman along, arranged them in a neat row in front of the Brains, more or less upright, their legs pinned together, their arms extended as if crucified. The bulk to the filaments coiled back out of sight, while those that could piled into a glowing mound around the display, reaching ever upward, stroking relentlessly at their heads..
The metal, the prostrate guard, other bits of rubble, all dropped to the floor with a loud collective crash.
There was nearly silence again.
Brains laughed again and admired his captives.
“Excellent. All according to plan. Silly creatures. Who do you think it was who allowed word to reach Sneed the Snitch as to the location of my..” An all-encompassing gesture. “..lair? And the ‘secret back entrance?’ After all, I didn’t want you destroying anything -important- when you made one of your trademarked entrances!”
The heroines could only to make small helpless noises in the back of their throats, as the strands wrapped tighter and ever tighter, brighter and brighter, finer and finer, caressing their heads.. inside and out..
“And now.. I shall deal with you permanently. Even now.. you can feel it, yes?” He reached out and joined the tendrils in stroking the tip of Shakra’s nose. At his touch, other colors began to strobe and spiral through the mass, sickly bluish orangish purple and many others, but only around the women’s heads. “Your minds will be reprogrammed to my exact specifications!”
There were flashes now, clusters of sparks, and the noises the captives made grew louder, but no less futile.
Touching every inch..
So very very fine..
“It takes very little time...”
Helplessly, the three began to smile, as their twitches turned to spasms.
“And feels so good..”
They made more noises with their mouths, their eyes rolled back in their skulls, showing stretches of mindless white.
Nerve finally pried his fingers free from the lever, stared at the floor mistrustfully, and edged his way fractionally closer.
“They.. can’t hurt us?”
An annoyed glance.
“Hurt us? In a moment, my dear simpleton..”
There was a final flash of light, the brightest yet, and the strands all slithered back out of sight in a single glop, leaving the Valkyrie Squad members on the floor, on their hands and knees. As one, they lifted their heads and stared at the Brains, and their gaze was shiny and adoring.
“...They will be our loving and obedient protectors! Isn’t that right, ladies?”
Shakra and Mechanique wiggled their butts, and voiced their ecstatic agreement:
Ocelot Girl strolled forward with easy grace, and butted her head lightly against the Brains’ leg.
The Brains eyed her for a short moment, one flourishing eyebrow raised, then clapped his gloves briskly together.
Nerve gaped some more, then raised a tentative finger.
“Um.. boss? You made ‘em think they’re dogs.. or.. whatever?”
“Of course! The one thing I needed to give my.. ‘lair’ that finished look. We will give them uniforms, ears and collars perhaps!” He looked at pile at the far end of the room. “And of course hire more guards from..” A dismissive wave.
“HenchCo.” In a shaky but nevertheless automatic motion, Nerve pulled a well-keyed pad from a pocket and punched in a note.
“Indeed. And my ladies can accompany them on their rounds. Correct, ladies?” He patted Shakra’s black hair, Mechanique’s helmet, and they wriggled in ecstasy.
They took up position on either side of him, poised and panting with alertness.
Ocelot Girl yawned, stretched, and wandered about, looking with interest at the glowing lights overhead.
Nerve put the pad away, struggled through an internal debate, spoke again, twirling his fingers around each other..
“But.. boss.. wouldn’t they be more.. useful.. as.. you know.. humans? I mean.. Mechanique.. old Captain Entende.. he was tellin’ me at the Iron Bar the other.. my day off? ..she knows all sorts of stuff about..” A vague wave.. “And I could really use some help.. maintaining... all th...” He trailed off in the face of the Brain’s disdainful glare, shining even though the goggles’ dark lenses. “Right, boss. Dogs. Cool. I’ll.. just get to work on.. um.. finding someone to patch that hole? I think the Wormmaster’s outta prison, he’s good wi-”
“No, you imbecile. We proceed directly with the final countdown, and activate the Project 23! You ask why I need no human help? Once in operation, Leng City and then all the Plateau shall fall into my grasp! I will have an army to hurl at my enemies, multitudes to fashion my designs!”
“Oh. Right, boss.” Nerve started towards the Final Lever, froze, turned back, carefully counted the women on the floor. “Um.. waitaminute.. didn’t I read in the Illuminator.. or somethin’.. that there always four gals in the Valk-”
This explosion was even more impressive, blowing out the main monitor and all the surrounding paraphernalia, sending blasts of elemental power shooting into more equipment, shattering pipes, spraying water and other less-identifiable liquids in every direction, knocking all five of them across the room. Alarms blared, fire suppression systems began spraying.
The two men regained their feet, as Mechanique and Shakra sprang instantly into position at their new master’s side, growling and bristling. Ocelot Girl watched from under cover to one side, her tail lashing.
In through the new hole swooped a tall figure in green, alive and vibrant, her feathered wings spread wide behind her, her sword glowing with power, her shield radiating purity. She landed on the floor, right where the Brains had been standing, and as she did so, she smote it with the sword. There was third explosion, and from all the cracks came a vast noise, equal parts tortured squeal and a giant spring snapping. Chunks of floor shifted drunkenly, and smoking blackened fragments spoinked brokenly into view everywhere.
She folded the wings behind her and made Shakra’s greeting seem flippant and carefree:
“Melvin J. Mumpsworth. You have been tried and found guilty of numerous crimes by the designated authority. Surrender and face the penalty.”
For a moment the Brains’ face was a volcano of rage.
“MY NAME IS NOT-” With a supreme effort, he reined himself in, and forced a laugh, even as, unnoticed by anyone, Nerve chose this moment to very informally announce his decision to resign from the Brain’s employment and set off in immediate search of new employment. “Welcome, too, Emerald Shrike. I should warn you, that I have just acquired new protectors.” He pointed. “Ladies. Kill.”
Mechanique and Shakra lunged forward, barking madly.
Emerald Shrike came forth to meet them, striding across the floor, crunching bits of burnt tendril under her low boots, sweeping them away with the tips of her wings. Her voice just possibly displayed the slightest trace of annoyance.
Mid-charge, Mechanique and Shakra’s butts planted themselves on the floor. They cowered as Emerald Shrike passed untouched between them. In her corner, Ocelot Girl yawned again and pointedly started grooming herself.
The Brains staggered backwards, fumbled in a pocket, produced a silvery gun, but there was a glittering sword stroke and the gun’s barrel went off to join the antenna tip. Emerald Shrike thrust forward her shield, there was another flash of light, a solid thing that was simultaneously a sharp and clean blast of wind. The rest of the gun exploded, and the Brain stood for a moment, his popping eyes staring out through his now-shattered goggles, his labcoat falling gently to pieces, before toppling over backwards and clattering on the floor as almost as rigidly as Ocelot Girl’s chunk of metal had done. Emerald Shrike surveyed the scene. Those one or two guards who were still mobile were making a feeble but spirited attempt to follow Nerve’s example. She turned back to the two “dogs”, studied them through slightly-narrowed gray eyes for a moment, then waved the sword back and forth, ritually, once, twice, and against smote the indestructible tip against the ground, blasting a hole, sending out another ripple of power. More of the machines and computers died, leaving only patches of light filtering down. Most of the alarms squalled and died.
Mechanique and Shakra jerked in unison, and blinked. Their eyes became human again. Shakra rose, her gems glowing back to life. She dipped an embarrassed nod towards Emerald Shrike.
“Not again!” They both looked at Mechanique, who, still on the floor, was surveying in disgust her uniform and all of its burnt-out accouterments. Emerald Shrike made a noise in her throat, about as far as dog-like or helpless as you get, and stalked off. Shakra extended a be-gemed hand, and a purplish glow lifted Mechanique gently to her feet.
“You always say that, and you always dash right back into that lab of yours. The real reason you joined us was to give yourself another reason to fiddle with machinery.”
“Eh? Ah!” Mechanique looked up. “I know what I deed wrong. I will add ze Insulatium to all ze parts next time!” She looked around, blinked some more. “But first, I shall need to examine all of -zis-. It appears ze Brains had some interesting ideas!”
Another chunk of debris dropped from above, bounced off Shakra’s power-aura, landed on the floor, where she poked it with the toe of her boot. It skittered a few feet and exploded.
“That’s one word for them.”
Emerald Shrike found Ocelot Girl sitting in one of the light-patches, allowed another slice of emotion to zip across her face, and flicked the sword point at her. Ocelot Girl twitched, paused in her grooming, looked up and grinned, proudly displaying her vast multitude of well-cleaned teeth.
“Oh. Heya, ES. So yer plan-thing worked, did it?”
Ocelot Girl stretched, flipped her train of hair back into shape, studied her carefully-sharpened nails.
“Well, they usually do. That’s why yer the big boss n’ all. Now, if ya don’t need me fer anything more...”
“Perhaps you could secure the perimeter.”
Ocelot Girl sniffed the air. “Aah, everyone’s taken off.” Studying Emerald Shrike’s expression. “But if it’ll make ya happy. Then maybe I’ll take a nap till..” a confirming glance out of the corner of her eye.. “‘Nique’s done looting stuff.”
Ocelot Girl casually climbed up the nearest bank of computers, and disappeared into the gloom.
“Oh, look, Shakra, ‘e has those new Yankovic 4200 Synchronizers! ‘Elp me pull zome free! Carefully!”
Emerald Shrike took up her position by the Brains, slid her sword into the waiting slot in the shield, and waited at vigilant attention.
And the Voice came to her, as somehow she knew it would, whispering to her just behind her left ear. Only it was even quieter than that, no sound at all...
All went well, I take it?
Yes. As always.
Good. Very good.
A slightly grudging pause.
Thank you for your assistance.
Of course. It’s why I’m here. To help you. After all, we want the same things for this fair city of ours. Peace. Order.
Indeed. Oh, and on that topic.. rumors have reached me that Ant Thrax has, heh, literally resurfaced in the last few days.
When we were unable to find his body, it was.. probably inevitable. You know which foul pit he has taken up residence in?
Not yet. But if.. when.. I do, you’ll be the first to know.
Another, shorter, pause.
Of course. It’s why I’m here. To help you. After all, we want the same things for our fair city. Peace.
The longest pause yet.
I feel.. I should tell the others about you. Lying is
No no. The Voice stroked a piece of her mind, and she felt a unfamiliar twinge of weakness in the back of her knees. Maintenance of security isn’t lying. Our successes will inevitably attract the attention of evils to whom Mr. Mumpsworth there is a pale flattering shadow.
Shadows.. are not pale...
Yes yes. But only if all of the Valkyrie Squad have completed their training, put their various childish distractions aside, will you be able to... A countering pause. You have been working on their training?
Yes. Every day. Every night.
Good. Another stroke, and her legs trembled. Very good. Here is what you will tell them tonight..
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