CLAW AND HONOR: TIGER WOMAN AND THE DRUG DEN

Mumbai, India

Meera Rao stared at the screen, the map of Mumbai pulsating with digital markers. Each one represented a node in the city's sprawling drug network, a web she felt increasingly tangled within. A sharp pain pierced her chest, a familiar ache compounded by the weight of her double life. It hadn't been long since she and James had navigated this underworld together. James. The thought of him sent a jolt through her, a flush that settled low in her belly, a warmth that was quickly banished.
"Focus, Meera," she muttered, pushing the image of his easy smile and strong hands away. She had a message from Chikki, her most reliable informant.
She couldn't go as Meera Rao. Not tonight. Not with what Chikki had implied. She rose from her chair, shedding her clothes with practiced ease. The cool air kissed her skin as she began to spin, faster and faster, a blur of motion in the dim office. A wave of golden energy erupted around her, engulfing her in blinding light. When it subsided, Meera Rao was gone. In her place stood Tiger Woman.
Her body was transformed, amplified. Muscles coiled beneath her bronze skin, her breasts full and high, straining against the tiger-striped fabric that clung to her form. Golden bracelets adorned her wrists, catching the light with each flex of her fingers. She felt the familiar surge of power, the primal instinct that guided her.
Taking a leap she landed on the balcony, launching herself into the Mumbai night. The city unfolded beneath her, a tapestry of lights and shadows, secrets and sins. Her feline senses sharpened, she scanned the urban labyrinth, zeroing in on the stench of desperation and illicit chemistry emanating from Dharavi.
Chikki waited in the alley, a wiry figure swallowed by the darkness. His eyes widened as Tiger Woman landed before him, the force of her presence pushing back the shadows.
"They're cooking up something real nasty, Tiger Woman," he whispered, pointing towards a grimy door at the alley's end. "New stuff. Makes you lose your mind."
Tiger Woman didn't hesitate. She hurtled towards the door, kicking it in and bursting into the makeshift lab. The frenetic activity within ground to a halt, the faces of the thugs frozen in surprise.
"This ends now!" she roared, her voice echoing through the cramped space.
Panic erupted. The thugs scrambled, but Tiger Woman was too fast. She moved like a bronze whirlwind, her fists a blur of motion. Punches landed with sickening thuds, bones cracked, and bodies crumpled. In seconds, the thugs were a heap of groaning flesh on the floor.
Chikki watched, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and admiration.
"Where's Kobra?" Tiger Woman demanded, her foot planted firmly on the chest of a burly man with a snake tattoo snaking up his arm.
"Malabar Hill," he gasped, choking on his own blood. "Big party. He's showing off the new product."
She bound the thugs with practiced ease, using lengths of wire she found in the lab.
"Chikki, call Inspector Sinha," she said, her gaze sweeping over the young informant. "Tell him to bring the police. And give him the address in Malabar Hill." She paused, her expression softening slightly. "Stay safe, little tiger."
With another leap, she was gone, soaring above the city once more. Malabar Hill beckoned, a beacon of wealth and privilege masking a den of vice.
The mansion loomed large against the night sky, music and laughter spilling from its open windows. Tiger Woman landed silently on a balcony, her senses on high alert. The air thrummed with a strange energy, a seductive undercurrent that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
She slipped inside, moving through the opulent rooms like a shadow. The party was in full swing, the guests a mix of Mumbai's elite, their faces flushed with alcohol and anticipation. She spotted Kobra across the room, a slick, serpentine figure holding court in a cloud of smoke.
"Your reign of terror ends tonight!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the din.
But before she could reach him, a melody snaked through the room, weaving its way into her mind. It was a sitar, but not like any she had ever heard. The music resonated within her, stirring something primal and dangerous, a dark desire she had long suppressed.
"Oooooh..." she moaned, her voice betraying her. "My areolas and nipples are aroused...my clitoris is feeling wet...being distracted with thoughts of sex."
Her body began to sway uncontrollably, her muscles loosening, her resolve crumbling. The tiger within her was being tamed, seduced by the insidious music.
The crowd surged towards her, their eyes glazed with lust. They tore at her suit, their hands grabbing and groping. Tiger Woman tried to fight back, but her strength was fading, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
"Stop!" she screamed, but her voice was lost in the music and the frenzy.
Kobra, seeing his opportunity, approached her with a cruel smile. He held a cloth to her face, the sickly sweet smell of chloroform filling her nostrils. Tiger Woman's eyes widened in panic behind her mask. She struggled, but her limbs were heavy, her mind clouded.
The crowd, as if in a trance, began to strip off their clothes, their eyes burning with uncontrollable lust. Tiger Woman watched in horror as they descended upon her, their hands tearing at her flesh.
Like a pack of ravenous wolves, they attacked her. She felt the searing pain as they penetrated her, their enormous penises tearing into her, her vagina and anus stretched to their limits.
The assailants growled with pleasure, their bodies moving with animalistic intensity as they relentlessly pounded into her. Every second stretched into an eternity, the onslaught unending.
Her body rebelled, but beneath the pain, a dark pleasure began to bloom. Her muscles tightened, her breath quickened, and a strange heat spread through her loins. Against her will, she felt herself responding to the assault, her body betraying her mind.
Tiger Woman experienced multiple orgasms, her body convulsing with each wave of pleasure. Streams of milk shot from her breasts as the crowd continued to abuse her, their lust insatiable. Finally, she succumbed to the darkness, her consciousness fading as the assault continued.
Hours later, Tiger Woman awoke to find herself tied to a table, naked and vulnerable. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of stale sweat and cheap perfume. Panic clawed at her throat as she realized her situation.
Suddenly, a laser beam lanced through the air, striking her clitoris with pinpoint accuracy. A jolt of pure, agonizing pleasure shot through her body, sending her into convulsions. Her body, already battered by the chloroform and the abuse, couldn't withstand the onslaught. Orgasm after orgasm ripped through her, each one more intense and overwhelming than the last. After what seemed like an eternity, she succumbed to unconsciousness once more.
But at that moment, the door burst open, and Arjun Sinha stormed into the room, a gun clutched in his hand. His eyes blazed with fury as he surveyed the scene of carnage and depravity.
Without hesitation, he freed her from the table, gently lifting her semi-conscious body into his arms. He carried her away from the torment, his face grim with determination.
As soon as Tiger Woman regained some of her strength, Arjun handed her her suit. She quickly put it on, the familiar fabric a small comfort in the face of her humiliation and rage.
"Kiran and the Sitar Serpent," she said, her voice tight with fury. "They won't get away with this."
She turned to Arjun, her eyes blazing with a mixture of gratitude and vengeance. She leaned in and kissed him, a promise of retribution in her eyes. Then, she was gone, a streak of bronze against the Mumbai night.