When Ignacio came to, he knew two things. First, he was soaking wet. The second, he was upside down.
Despite how muddled and groggy he was, he was sure of the second from the water pooling in his nostrils.
“Well,” said a velvet voice as he gasped for air and spit out the water, “you’re certainly a fun one.”
Leather cracked in the air.
“I’ve never played with a blind man before.”
Soft hands that felt like silk brushed lightly against his abdomen.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun.”
He screamed as she crushed his balls.
…
The two Littletits sneered at Margarita, their electricity crackling in the air.
They looked alike, almost exactly except for the cut of their hair.
“She’s mine,” the long-haired one snarled.
“No,” said the one with the buzz cut. “Blue promised me.”
Margarita yawned loudly. “Whatever.”
“Quiet!” the two Littletits shouted as their currents surged through her.
…
“Let’s start with basics,” Baby Blue said as the prisoner regained consciousness, “what is your name?”
“Arthur of Camelot,” he slurred groggily.
“Tsk, tsk.” Baby Blue swatted him across the face. “Lies will be punished. Now, what’s your name?”
“Kris Kringle.”
‘Smack!’
The slap echoed across the room.
“I am…Batman.”
‘Smack!’
“I’m Henry the Eighth I am I am, I’m Henry the Eighth I am.”
As he continued, she gave a discouraged shake of her head to assistant, a long-haired Ding-ho. The assistant grabbed a sedative and walked to the singing prisoner.
“Second verse, same as the first. I’m Henry the Eighth I am, I am…”
…
“So,” said a gruff voice as he came to, “ye met Baby Blue didja?”
“Wha?” Ignacio managed. “Who?”
“Baby Blue,” the gruff voice said. “She’s the queen in her own little kingdom of torture and pain. There’s no point to it, just the hate.”
“Where…where are you?” Ignacio asked.
“Are ye blind ye blasted idiot! I’m right here, da only cell next to yers!”
“Oh,” Ignacio said softly, “so there’s light.”
“Ye really are blind ain’t ye?”
Ignacio said nothing and instead tried to sit up, as pain ratcheted over his body.
“Jest moonlight now. Figure the cells are two, three meters ‘cross an’ jest as wide. Nuthin’ more den bars an’ concrete.”
“I’m surprised they bothered with the bars.”
“They didn’t,” came the response. “It’s a Canuk Air Force Base.”
“Canada? Why here?”
“It’s the belly of the beast lad. This is where it began.”
…
Cracking her fingers, Baby Blue stared down at her toy.
“Name,” she demanded.
“Tom Thumb.”
Baby Blue nodded, backhanding him.
“Even my patience has a limit,” she said looking at the bloodied rings on her fingers. “Before that happens, you will want to talk. Otherwise you waste what little hope of life you have left.”
“Fine then, Tom Cruise.”
‘Smack!’
“Backtalk gets a backhand,” she said nodding to her assistant.
“Tom Jones?”
‘Smack!’
…
“She will break you,” a voice filled with concern said as a wet cloth was run along his face. “You always break.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m her assistant, your enemy.”
“You don’t act like her.”
The wiping stopped.
“And you’re done,” she said in a huff. “Good night.”
Once again, a needle jammed itself into his neck.
…
“You know, I think I got ‘em figured out.”
Ignacio ignored the rumbling, trying to sleep. His companion had tried to start several conversations with him ever since he’d woken up. So far, silence had done little to dissuade the man.
“It’s the sex! That’s the key to everything. Mathers, the blithering idiot, was right.
“Think about it,” he continued. “Most of them look like dressed up sex dolls from a carnival. They act like they’re human, but they know they’re not. That’s the secret!
“They want to be humans not puppets,” he cried on the verge of yelling. “They want to be free! Free through sex!”
Ignacio shivered, pulling his arms around himself tighter. The floor was cold and hard. He shivered once more, curling into a ball.
“Don’t you get it? They want to be our allies. They want to help us. We just have to free them!”
Ignacio tried to ignore him, tried to summon his sleep.
…
“Today we’ll try something new,” Baby Blue whispered into his ear, “psychic intrusion.”
Smiling widely at the small twitch across his face, she turned to her assistant. “Let’s start simple,” she told the Ding-ho. “How about his thoughts on the Creator.”
Without a word, the pokegirl grabbed his head in her hands.
…
“Yer lookin’ good m’boy,” commented the gruff voice. “The assistant?”
Ignacio nodded, huddled in the corner of his cell.
“What’d de take?”
Cringing, Ignacio patted his chest.
“Sukebe,” he managed. “They called him the Creator.”
There was a moment of silence. Thunder rumbled in the far distance.
“Get yer sleep kid,” the gruff voice said at last. “They mean to break you.”
…
Putting the scalpel down, Baby Blue sighed. He had fallen unconscious this time.
Glancing at her assistant cleaning the blood soaked razors that lined the small trolley beside him, she thought about what he had said.
“Clean him up and bring the boy in here,” she decided after a length. “I have to go verify this.”
Nodding politely, the assistant picked up a towel and began to wipe the blood from the prisoner’s mustache.
…
“Today will be our last day,” she told Ignacio. “You’ve been an interesting toy, but duty comes before pleasure.”
Warm fingers grasped his face.
‘Be calm.’
The thought was not his own, yet he hadn’t heard any words. With his head cocked to the side, he sat there unsure of what to do.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Baby Blue said in her velvet voice.
A moment later the door closed itself.
‘Wait,’ said the thought in his head. ‘Just a few minutes.’
“What…” he began.
‘Quiet!’
He grimaced as a dull pain embedded itself inside the back of his head.
‘Don’t make this worse. I’m trying not to hurt you.’
The pain, a pinching spike that wouldn’t go away, began to spread down his back.
‘Just endure it a little longer.’
…
Baby Blue wore a half smile, watching over the two from the other side of the mirror.
Shaking her head, she turned away and left, unable to enjoy his painful writhing as she had wished.
Duty it seemed did indeed come first.
…
Suddenly the pain stopped.
Gasping for air, Ignacio felt like he wanted to collapse.
“Thank goodness,” said a voice he recognized as the assistant, “I thought she would never leave. We’ve got to get you out of here.”
The restraints holding him down came undone.
Ignacio tried to sit up, and collapsed halfway, his muscles in agony.
A needle jammed itself into his arm and a feeling like liquid ice flowed through his body. A second needle quickly followed the first.
“What the fuck?” he managed, his tongue starting to grow heavy.
“Don’t worry,” said the assistant, “It’ll take effect soon.”
Rough hands grabbed his pants.
“I’ll be your eyes, so just trust me. This shouldn’t take long at all.”
…
This was not how she had wanted to spend her break. Instead of relaxing out in a field somewhere, here she was helping the guards for that blue-furred psychopath in only the Creator knew where Canada.
Why did that damn Dominatrix have to be so damned ambitious that she’d brought them all the way here?
With a sigh, she picked up her car door and began to walk her rounds.
A girl soundlessly materialized behind her, fire roiling inside her palms.
The Barriermaiden never even saw the flames as they engulfed her completely.
…
Ignacio could feel a familiar sensation growing inside as she moved her mouth back and forth along his shaft.
“Oh!” he cried out and grabbed her head as he felt himself release.
Her hair was long and full of curls that felt like waves from the sea to his touch.
Letting her go, he felt himself begin to relax.
“It’s not enough,” she growled at him. “We need to bond.”
Grasping him in her hands, she began to stroke him once more.
“Like my daughter and her sister-daughter before, we need to join.”
Ignacio felt a pleasant shudder run through his head. “Hunh?”
“Just enjoy it,” she said placing a finger on his lips. “Let yourself go.”
With that, her hand let him go and something else wrapped itself around him.
“Make me free,” she panted, entwining her fingers with his. “Take me with you.”
Her hips began to move and Ignacio felt it growing inside him once more.
…
Margarita looked down at the shattered remains of the two Littletits scattered across the floor like ice cubes.
The two of them had never even seen it coming. By gradually storing her “coldness” inside her, the two had remained convinced that she was in fact growing weaker, until finally she had released it all upon them.
Despite the entire room being covered in frost, she felt no discomfort, no pain. Unlike the two of them, she hadn’t felt anything at all.
Not even bothering to grab her clothes, she kicked down the door and began walking.
…
She could feel it happening, the change growing inside her, a bond between them both.
Panting heavily, she was moving at an almost non-stop grind.
He said nothing as she moved, just kept holding onto her, along for the ride.
“It’s begun,” she cried out as he released inside her.
The room plunged itself into darkness.
…
Rolling on her fishnet stockings the Dominatrix looked down at the two sleeping pokegirls.
The Guntit had done little to satisfy her this time, but the Charmelon had been a blessing. The failure to either capture or kill the one enemy she had encountered had given the Dominatrix ample excuse to vent herself upon the girl.
Clasping together the metal cups of her bra, she caressed the faces of the two girls. Soft and smooth, it was somewhat like stroking a pool of rose petals.
“Something’s changed,” a comforting voice said from above her.
The Dominatrix said nothing as the Spiderwoman dropped to the ground beside her.
“Something unforeseen,” the spider said. “We must move quickly.”
Grabbing her whips, the Dominatrix followed the Spiderwoman.
…
“So,” the Frostbite asked the small white-furred Beach Bunny, “what would you do for a Klondike Bar?”
“Ooh,” shouted the rabbit, “I know. I’d be your friend!” smiling brightly, the bunny held out her hand.
“Wrong!” came the immediate response and the Beach Bunny was thrown across the room.
“Aww, that hurt,” pouted the bunny as she bounced off the wall. “Why are you so mean to me?” she asked climbing to her feet.
“Who cares,” shouted the Frostbite and chunked a pepper shaker at her.
The entire room rattled and rumbled as the rabbit sneezed all over the place.
“Wow, I didn’t know I could sneeze that hard!”
Alarms began to ring throughout the complex.
…
Little Timmy ducked down behind a rock, Benson right beside him.
“We got it,” he told his friend.
“Good,” Benson said, “now we get out of here.”
With a nod, Timmy started walking away, heading towards their prearranged meeting place.
…
Ignacio quickly zipped up his pants.
“So what’s your plan?” he asked the monster as she lay upon the table.
“Who said anything about a plan,” she responded flatly. “I didn’t even expect to get this far. We are now bonded, as one in our fates.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You must admit the consequences,” she said wrapping her arms around him, “freedom’s an illusion now. Didn’t they tell you?”
“Who say what now?”
She sighed. “Maybe they didn’t know. I’m now free, just not how you think. By taking you into me, I submitted myself to you. I became yours.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t have to,” she assured him. “It’s merely future oppression becoming more clear.” She grabbed his hand in her own. “If I may, I can secure a way out with a teleporter. She is young and in need of guidance.”
“I thought you didn’t have a plan,” he commented with a half-smile.
“Who said anything like that?”
…
The Spider suddenly stopped. “Dammit!”
“What is it?”
“We’re too late,” she told her squad leader. “I will die. You must not.”
The Dominatrix narrowed her eyes, her face full of unseen rage.
“No one kills you,” she said in a hallow voice. “No one.”
A layer of frost suddenly enveloped the walls. A lithe nude figure steadily walked towards them, a ring of keys twirling in her hand.
“Really,” Margarita asked, “can I try?”
…
The Frostbite stepped back from the figure that stood before her.
It was a girl who looked no more than twenty, with a voluptuous figure and pure white hair. Her skin was olive toned and her eyes were hazel. A pair of wings made of living ice were spread out to their full length of two meters. Her body was covered in cuts that dripped with fire.
Between the two girls, the Beach Bunny lay in a crumpled ball, lifeless and still, her fur still smoldering.
“Traitor,” said the Frostbite, gathering herself together.
“So be it,” the girl calmly said from behind her. “This is how I choose to live.”
Living flames engulfed the girl completely.
…
“Why is it,” Ignacio panted as he tried to catch his breathe, “I’m always running?”
“Men are squishy,” growled the Monster. “Come, we have to find her, before she decides to run away.”
…
Margarita smiled as her ice-shield continued to block the attacks of her two opponents. Although both of them were powerful in their own evolutionary lines, she was a G-Splice. Made up of others, she was power incarnate. Not even she was aware of her full range.
“You two bore me,” she said, and with a flick of the wrist, wind and ice buffeted her two enemies.
…
The A-Bra awoke with a start, only to find herself staring into the toothy grin of Baby Blue’s assistant.
“Aah!” she cried out, scrambling back in her pod shaped bed.
The Ding-ho grabbed her roughly by the feet.
“Calm down,” came the toothy snarl. “I need an exit for me and my cargo.”
“G-get m-my si-sister,” stammered the hapless psychic.
“She’s not here,” the Ding-ho said dragging her out of the pod, “so you’re up. The cargo goes first.”
With that, the A-Bra was thrust in front of a gangly half-starved human, his body barely holding him up.
“Aah!” she cried out again and launched a nearby book at him from her desk.
‘Thud!’
He collapsed to the ground.
“Oops,” she said softly.
…
They all agreed their thoughts as one.
“No,” pleaded the man. “I don’t want to die.”
They yipped all around her. No one was moved by the words of his cultured voice.
“No! Please!” he cried.
She gripped him by the throat.
His pleas became cries of pain as his flesh burned beneath her touch.
The yips became louder as they rushed in to enjoy the feast.
…
Icicles launched from her wings, embedding themselves in the door. With a thought, the door was blasted off of its hinges.
She saw him laying on the floor, a Ding-ho standing over him, an A-Bra laying in a pool of its own blood.
“Ignacio,” she cried, throwing the surprised dog off with a violent shove. She cradled him in her arms, holding on tightly. Fighting back tears, she kissed his forehead lightly. Her wings melted away, and the fire in her blood cooled itself upon his touch.
“It’s me,” she sniffed. “Yolanda.”