DISCLAIMER: This story is set in the Metrobay City universe from the Twisted Tales comics at www.hipcomix.com. Characters are used with permission but the secretary will disavow all knowledge of this fiction if any of the protagonists are caught or killed. To comment on the story please write the author at macrolass@hotmail.com, fawning praise is always accepted.

Just because you're paranoid does NOT mean that they're not out to get you.

* * * * *

A piano played softly in the background as the gorgeous blonde fidgeted nervously in her seat in the private booth in the back of Chez d'Henri, one of the most exclusive (and discrete) restaurants in the city of Metrobay. For the hundreth time she though to get up and leave. **This is not a good idea,** she said to herself. **I shouldn't be sneaking around behind the others' backs like this. If they found out...**

She had good reason to be concerned for she was in actuality the famous Ms. Metrobay, formerly one of the premiere heroines of the city. Having recently returned to the ranks of the Superheroine Squad, she'd just endured a long bout of brainwashing at the 'hands' of Belinda Giolla. She'd heard the whispers of the younger members of the Junior Squad who didn't know her reputation and didn't understand what the fuss was about. A couple of them even questioned how complete her recovery was, that perhaps her miraculous return to free will was some kind of a scam.

A waiter gently cleared his throat interrupting her train of thought. "Excuse me madame," he said with a french accent. "Your guest is here."

He turned to go revealing a beautiful young brunette in her latter 20's wearing a nicely tailored but sexily cut business skirtsuit. She had a nice and well toned body beneath the business attired crowned by a pair of firm and proud 38D breasts. Her stance spoke of confidence and a forceful but in control personality. "Excuse me, are you Kelly?", she asked in a warm and friendly voice.

"I am," she answered. "And you're Miss Franklin?"

The businesswoman smiled and produced a pink business card. "That's right. Francine Franklin but you can call me Frankie."

Gesturing for her guest to sit, the off duty heroine turned the card over several times in in her fingers. "Thank you for coming to see me. I know that you're a busy woman...."

"Never too busy to meet one of my childhood idols," the younger woman chuckled as she slipped into her seat. "I must say it's quite an honor to meet you. I thought you'd retired or something...."

"Or something," retorted Kelly. "I'd rather not talk about it if you don't mind. Can we get on with my request?"

"Right to business eh?" The talent agent smiled. "All right then, whatever you want." She reached into the valise she'd carried in with her and handed Kelly a thick manila file folder. "I believe all the information you'll want is right there."

"It's so...big," the heroine said in suprise. "I wouldn't have thought there was this much work to this kind of thing....:"

Frankie shrugged. "My people are very thorough," she stated. "I don't do half assed jobs, pardon my french. I did case studies of all the Superheroine Squad, junior and senior members as well as the team in general. I got the impression that was what you wanted."

"It is, it is," she answered. "It's just...well, I never...."

"You never hired an agent before," the talent scout replied.

Kelly nodded, blushing a bit. "It's not that I have anything against what you do, it's just...well, heroines don't really NEED managers."

"Well, they didn't used to," the younger woman replied soothingly. She'd figured this was probably going to be Ms. M's reaction. She was very old school and needed to be handled gently. "To be honest though with things the way they are these days, with the constant media attention and people bombarding you you left and right, a heroine NEEDS someone to filter out all the crap so you can concentrate on your job of saving lives and doing good deeds. Not to mention that nowadays if you give people half a chance they'll use your image and not pay you a dime for it. Heroines have to earn a living too, most of the ones I've met still have to eat." She chuckles. "It's not being greedy, it's just getting your due from a grateful public while trying to avoid the leeches who would take advantage."

"I suppose," Ms. Metrobay said. "Still, this is an awful lot to digest...."

"Would you like the Berlitz version?"

"Please. But let's order first, I'm famished."

Frankie smiled as she opened her menu. "All right. Hmmm...you can tell this is a french restaurant...lots of cheese and cream sauces....I guess I'll have the Lobster Thermidor."

"And I'll have the Lobster Newburg," the blonde added. "Yes, Chez d'Henri has been a favorite here in Metrobay for years." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Henri is a friend of mine, I had a case years ago that involved one of his waitresses coming up missing and so he lets me eat here for free..."

"A couple of my favorite words," the brunette chuckled back. "But you don't need to tell me about the tourist attractions here in Metrobay...I was born here."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Yup. I left town a while back to manage my sister's career in Hollywood but somehow I keep getting pulled back here. But enough about me. You wanted to talk about the bottom line of what my polls showed. Well to put it in a nutshell, the team's Q rating, their popularity rating and familiarity to the general public has never been higher. In the wake of the arrest of Doctor Twisted," she added, deliberately avoiding mentioning Giolla, "the city's faith in you and the rest of the Squad is pretty solid. There is one thing that that concerned me a little though."

"And what would that be?", asked the heroine.

"Well there's still an impression in the male 19 though 44 demographics that tends to regard the Squad and its members as eye candy," the agent replied. "Now a little of that's understandable given some of the uniforms your team wears but the trend grows worse at the bottom and the very top of the economic spectrum. Both blue collar and very rich men tend to view you all as sex objects. That's not a HUGE problem per se but I think with some image tweaking and a bit of public relations work to show your competence we might be able to reverse that trend. I've got the outline of a prospective campaign right here...."

Over dinner the two women discussed business and the Squad's public image. Kelly found herself impressed by the young woman's drive and well thought out approach. She'd been a bit nervous coming back to the Squad, afraid that things had changed over the time she'd been Belinda's sexslave which is why she'd commissioned a covert study of the group to see what if anything she might be missing.

Soon enough dinner was done and the meeting was over. The two women walked outside the restaurant and hailed a cab, not noticing a figure in the shadows holding a small scanning device in his hands.

"Bingo."

Both women were startled as a muscular black man in an A-frame tshirt and military camo pants leapt out from a nearby alley and tossed a grenade at the blonde. It impacted against her and bound her in thick strips of metal. There was a flash and the acrid scent of ozone as a hefty electrical charge rendered the heroine unconscious. He ignored the brunette and tossed his victim over his shoulder. "Easy pickins," he stated.

Frankie was incensed...not only that she'd been dissed by not even having been acknowledged but also that her new client was being kidnapped. "Hey, GI Doofus!", she called out.

He turned and looked down at the pretty young woman. "Beat it toots," he smirked, "I ain't got time t'smack you around. I need this lil superlady for somethin' important."

"Well here's something else for you then!", she declared, kicking him as hard as she could in the crotch. There was a moment of silence and then she hopped back on one foot in pain. "OWW! Oww owww owww! Dammit, what you got down there, bowling balls?"

He laughed. "Stainless steel cup," he laughed. "Gotta protect the family jewels from all those superladies that like t'take cheap shots. You can call me Tech-Merc. An' lucky you, YOU just got my attention."

He lashed out with a quick backhand that sent the young talent scout flying to crumple in an unconscious heap. "You got a nice rack. I think I'll take you too an' fuck yer brains out before I kill ya." With that, he threw Frankie over his other shoulder and took them both to a waiting van.

FLASHBACK...

Frankie woke in a sumtuous bed, naked and covered with a dark satin sheet. "Ooooo, my head," she moaned. "Where am I? Last thing I remember..."

"The last thing you remember was ME," came a sultry female voice from a figure in the bathroom door. She was petite, less than 5' tall but possessed of the most amazingly large and firm breasts Frankie had ever seen. She was dressed in a flimsy negligee and wore a pair of 5" feathered slide ons. Her hair was a lustrous raven color, black as coal and smooth as silk. "I knew you were the right choice," she purred, stroking one of her tits. "You're a fabulous lover...and you'll be an even better bodyguard."

"You...you brought me here!", the brunette declared. "Slipped something into my drink...hypnotized me...something...."

"Nothing nearly that crude my pet," replied the seductress. "I merely unleashed the beast inside of you. Now it serves me...as will you!"

She gestured mystically and her flimsy garment faded to be replaced by a skimpy bathing costume with two dark purple straps that started at her crotch, covered each breast, and then looped around the back of her neck. A swept up batwing mask appeared to disguise her features except for her eyes which began to glow a hellish red. "I am Mistress Malefica...and you are mine now Francine Franklin!"

The helpless talent agent blinked...and her eyes changed to the same solid blood red hue. "I am your devoted slave, Mistress Malefica. How may I pleasure you?"

"I have more work to do upon you," replied the sorceress. "For now you will sleep."

"...sleep...." Frankie's eyelids drooped.

"...sleep...." Then closed.

PRESENT TIME...

"...wake up...." Her eyes were half open showing the normal pupil and irises.

"I said wake up, bitch!" Fully aware now, she looked around her only to see Tech-Merc with his hand up her skirt. She was shackled spread eagle to a concrete wall, fortunately with her clothes still intact.

"Lose something up there sport?", she quipped. Since this military psycho obviously had her at a disadvantage, she did as she usually did when in a situation where she was at a disadvantage...used humor to change the mood until she could find some way to reverse the situation.

"Cute," he replied with a smirk. "Thought I might've whacked you too hard. This wouldn't be any fun if you weren't awake for it." He left her and went over to a table to pick up a disc and a small remote.

"So Tex-Mex..."

"That's Tech-Merc!", he corrected her harshly.

"Right, right...Tech-Merc, my bad," she quickly corrected herself. "What's the story here? I mean, you're quite the stud, I can't see you having to knock girls unconscious just to have them go out with you...." She smiled and tried to lure him into a sense of overconfidence.

He grinned. "Stalling for time, huh? Won't do you no good...but I'll play the game." He fiddled with the remote some more. "I used t'be just a piss-ant private doin' a stint in the middle east. My superiors said I had discipline problems an' an attitude so I wasn't goin' up in the ranks. Then one lucky day wer were on one of those searches for 'weapons of mass destruction'. We didn't find any of them but what we DID find was a batch of high tech weaponry some rich arab had been stockpiling from the black market in Japan and the US."

A mad gleam in his eye, he looked at his captive. "My sergeant wanted to confiscate it then turn it over to the UN inspectors. Then suddenly it occured to me that that was fuckin' NUTS. I mean, weapons are meant to be USED, not disposed of. I picked up one of the guns, offed the rest of my squad, then played the grieving survivor after stashing the rest of the gear for myself. Got myself a psych discharge for 'emotional problems' and headed back to the states. Pretty soon I went on the market as Tech-Merc, the solider with the cutting edge advantage."

Frankie felt her heart sink as she realized this man was nothing but a cold-blooded killer who would kill her and Ms. Metrobay just as soon as look at them. Speaking of which though... "So what do you want with us?", the agent said as she struggled to keep the fear out of her voice. "I mean, we're just two ordinary women...."

"Nice try toots," he retorted. "I know that your dinner date was a super, though I didn't know till after I did a database search that I'd nabbed Ms. Metrobay. Lucky break for me there. See, I got this little weasel at APEX that supports some very nasty habits and needs cash almost all the time. He manages to get me some of APEX's toys for my own private arsenal. One of the things I got is a short range metahuman detector. I don't know the science but from what I was told it picks up some resonance off of the metahuman gene in each of the superbitches that infest this town. For a sec I thought both of you might be supers but you came up clean. Probably some glitch or something. Anyways, the things only got a range of a block or two so I've been biding my time, looking for one of them meta-hos to be off on her own."

"But don't think we can't have some fun too," he declared as he placed a large silver disc on her forehead. "Another little doodad I got is what my contact called an emotional regulator. It can suppress or amplify any one specific emotion in the person it adheres to. 'Course he was saying something about it burning out the brains of the test subjects which is why I wanna test it on someone expendable...say, someone like YOU."

"Now lets not get hasty here," Frankie said, using her most persuasive tone. "You don't need to...."

"What I need," he interrupted, "is to get laid. Think you can help me with that?" He punched a button on the remote.

The reaction was instantaneous as the formerly rational businesswoman descended into an animalist rut. "GOD!", she screamed. "Horny...so...fucking...horny...someone...please screw me...."

"Music to my ears," said the soldier as he opened his fly to reveal a massive hardon. He stepped up to his helpless captive and proceeded to ram his footlong member deep into her cunt. She began to orgasm continuously, flopping and twitching like a fish out of water. Finally she collapsed in exhaustion and the disk dropped off her temple to drop to the ground and burst into flames.

"Damn, only 15 minutes," Tech-Merc complained after checking the timer on the remote. "Gotta tell my boy that these things need bigger batteries." He thrust into the white woman one last time and allowed himself to cum with a beastial grunt. Pulling out, he zipped back up and went to the table to write down some notes, leaving the bedraggled Frankie just hanging in her bonds.

Once he finished, he looked back at the abused woman. "So I bet you're asking yourself now 'Why didn't he screw Ms. Metrobay's brains out? She's a much hotter babe than I am!' Well first of all you'd be sellin' yourself short because you've got a pretty decent rack on you too...but most of all it's because she's already busy...with THIS!" He pushed another button on his remote and a wall came down to reveal the blonde heroine stripped naked and hooked up to a complicated (and exceptionally invasive) device. Twin dildoes were wedged deep between her legs and a full face mask helmet covered her entire head. She was grunting rhymically in time with loud hisses of compressed air coming from her nether regions. "This gizmo is an orgone collector. It sucks up the mental energy produced by orgasms and converts it into other types of power. I needed a metahuman because only they produce enough sexual energy to be absorbed like that. Since Ms. Metroslut can't cum, she's locked in a permanent state of arousal. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already snapped like a twig. Doesn't matter since she doesn't need to think for it to work on her. Longs I keep her fed, she can last for YEARS like that. And when she's used up...well, there's always some other super skank popping up somewhere."

He sneered at the lovely brunette who was beginning to regain her senses. "Now the next thing you're wondering is 'what does he DO with all this energy he's collecting?' Good question, wish I'd thought of that," he said as he lugged a heavy case out into view. Opening the case he pulled out a futuristic rifle. "May I present the TK Railgun Model 1....or the TKR 001 for short. It takes Ms. Metrosexual's cum energy and converts it into telekinetic force for a variety of uses." He slipped his hand into the guard around the trigger and was surrounded by a softly glowing aura. "First it protects the user with a force field impervious to anything up a bomb exploding. Then the multiadaptive focusing mechanism provides fire control from tiny impacts of pinpoint accuracy," he demonstrated by blowing the buttons off of her shirt to reveal her braless breasts, "up to enough force to blow through tank armor." He shot once more, the gun kicking back ferociously...and blew a basketball sized hole in the concrete wall next to her head.

Frankie almost shit herself but for--d herself to be calm. **I'm gonna have to do it,** she thought to herself. **If I don't he'll kill me AND Ms. Metrobay....**

"This baby is gonna put me into the supervillain big leagues!", he bragged, unaware of his prospective first victim's thoughts.. "I just needed to make sure it WORKED first. Unfortunately I can't let anyone know what my power source is...and well, since you know, I just gotta kill ya. No hard feelings...well, at least not any more."

The shackles holding Frankie to the wall began to give as her clothing started to rip....

"Sayonara bimbo," he said, taking careful aim between her...growing...tits?

An eyesearing bolt of energy screamed through the air and struck the bound woman square in the chest, sending her flying into and THROUGH the cement wall. Pebbles rained down from the huge gaping hole. "Well, looks like that test was a...success?", he stated, gaping with shock as a powder blue gloved hand gripped the edge of the hole.

"You....ASS," growled a woman's voice as she laboriously pulled herself into the room. She was huge, nearly 7' tall with a body that rippled with power and sexuality. She wore a skintight blue spandex uniform with blue mesh panels and cut to make the most of her sexy form. She stepped into the room and ripped off the tatters of Ms. Franklin's skirtsuit. "That was a Giorgio Armani! Do you have any idea how much that little popgun of yours just cost me? I doubt you have enough hide to cover what it cost...but hey, I might be wrong."

"Wha...what the HELL are you?", the black man stammered.

"You can call me MacroLass," she said, cracking her knuckles. "The Guiness Book of World Records sent me over because they heard someone here was looking to set a world's record for how far something could be shoved up an ass...."

"Bring it bitch!", he screamed. "Rock an' roll!" With that he set the gun to full auto and hosed her down with a barrage of telekinetic bullets...

Which bounced off her chest like popcorn. "Now that was MIGHTY unfriendly of you," she chided him with a grin. "What's the matter? We were such good buddies a few minutes ago...."

"Damn superbitches," he cursed. "Have some TK pressor beam!" He shot her with an energy stream that pushed her back...until she dug in her heels then started to slowly and laboriously move up to him.

"I think you're all out of tricks," the heroine stated. "Time to say goodnight Gracie!" She cocked back a fist and punched him...but couldn't get through his force field. The impact of her fist though did cause his energy beam to go wild, cutting a wide swath out of the wall of his lair.

"Hah!", he sneered. "I might not be able to hurt you but you can't hurt ME either! Looks like it's a mexican standoff!"

"Looks can be deceiving," she retorted as she picked him up and then threw him bodily into the machine holding Ms. Metrobay captive. To her dismay a glow similar to the one around Tech-Mech popped up around around the device to deflect him.

Rolling to his feet, he laughed again. "Like I said MacroTits, you can't hurt me...and the TK generator around my power source is designed to keep it from being tampered with too. And this next shot is gonna..." He looked around in confusion for the amazon. "Hey! Where'd she go?"

The azure clad heroine was indeed still there but had shrunk down to less than a foot high. Sneaking behind the raving lunatic, she suddenly grew back to her normal height and put him in a bear hug. "Give it up!", he shouted. "You know you can't get through my force field!"

"Maybe not normally," she growled in return, bearing down. "But my power as MacroLass is to control the mass of my body, increasing or decreasing it at will. And I figure...if I can increase...my density enough...give it...a couple hundred...thousand...tons...of pressure...."

The field started to glow brighter in response to the increased strain even as sparks began to fly from the machine holding Ms. Metrobay. Finally, with a loud explosion it overloaded, shutting off the protections around itself and Tech-Merc. Fortunately MacroLass had enough control to avoid squeezing the defeated villain like a tube of toothpaste, just rendering him unconscious. She let her extra mass disperse and picked the black man up by the throat, hoisting him aloft as he dangled like a rag doll.

**Kill him,** whispered a seductive voice in her head. **After what he did to you and Ms. Metrobay he deserves no mercy. Just tighten your grip and he'll never be a problem to anyone ever again....**

"NO!", she cried, tossing him over to the machine with the heroine still trapped inside. "I won't...I won't be your thug any more!" With that she rushed over and hurriedly disconnected the blonde from the machine. "Are you all right?", the larger heroine asked in concern.

"..think...think I will be," Kelly moaned wearily as she grabbed her costume from the nearby table. "Thank...thank you for saving me Macr...LOOK OUT!" She pointed to the ceiling which was starting to collapse.

Instantly the big woman grew to her full 30' height and propped up the ceiling. "Get out of here!", she yelled. "Take laughing boy with you and run...I can't hold this thing forever!"

"But what about you?"

"JUST GO!"

In no condition to help after her ordeal, the blonde had little choice but to obey. Picking Tech-Merc up in a fireman's carry, she managed to get outside the building with him. She turned around thinking to go back and help her rescuer but with an ominous rumble the building collapsed atop of her. "MACROLASS!" Ms. Metrobay looked on in horror. "Oh Frankie...God..."

Just then a transparent female figure rose from out of the pile of stone and mortar. It was MacroLass, passing through solid matter as if she were a ghost. She sighed with relief as she turned tangible again and walked up to the heroine. "Whew! That was too close. Are you okay?"

"I am," said the blonde. "That was amazing! You're a metahuman too!"

The talent agent nodded, obviously a bit embarrassed. "I am. "I've got the ability to control the mass of my body...can make myself bigger or smaller or heavier or intangible. Plus I'm strong and invulnerable to start with."

"We need someone like you on the Superheroine Squad!", the team's leader stated emphatically. "You'd be such a benefit to the team!"

Frankie felt a rush of pride as her idol praised her...but then remembered that someone else still had the ability to pull her strings. "Nah," she said, feigning disinterest in the offer, "I prefer to work for a living. And it is important. When I first got my powers I tried to find someone to represent me so I could be a full time heroine but he rooked me, started pimping my image out to products I really didn't want to represent. There's nothing quite like seeing your picture on a bottle of feminine hygiene spray...." She shuddered in distaste. "So I vowed that no other heroine would have to go through that kind of humiliation and became a superhero agent."

"Anyways, time enough to chat once we get this nutjob over to jail....", she said as several emergency vehicles pulled up.

EPILOGUE...

A figure at a desk watched a TV monitor with interest as the scene with the sexy giantess played over again. "Looks like you dealt with Tech-Merc handily enough," he stated. "Too bad in a way, he made an excellent unpaid beta tester. Then again, catspaws are made to be used then discarded. The fool has no idea who he was truly working for so there's no way any of this could be traced back to us."

The view pulled back to show Max Indeks sitting at his APEX desk. "You on the other hand Ms. Franklin, fascinate me. I think we could make use of someone with your talents...oh yes indeed...."

He began to laugh evilly....

DISCLAIMER: This story is set in the Metrobay City universe from the Twisted Tales comics at www.hipcomix.com. Characters are used with permission but the secretary will disavow all knowledge of this fiction if any of the protagonists are caught or killed. To comment on the story please write the author at macrolass@hotmail.com, fawning praise is always accepted.

This story is also crossposted on the Stories forum of the Discussion section at www.hipcomix.com/forums/

If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck; don't be surprised if it ends up tomorrow's menu at Chan's Imperial Palace restaurant.

* * * * *

The front of APEX Laboratories Inc. Main Office Facility was indeed an imposing affair. A consistent feature of the Fortune 500, their monolithic reflective glass skyscraper sat serenely over several acres of manicured woodlands and open fields in the heart of downtown Metrobay. The corporate offices had been in an industrial park outside of the city but after Lady Necros (a scientist fascinated by reanimation of the dead) had brought up the corpses interred in the Peaceful Valley Cemetery as an army to face the Superheroine Squad almost 2 decades ago, no one wanted to bury their family members there any more. The city was looking at a huge financial catastrophe until APEX came forth and not only bought out the land but also made sure all of the bodies were set to rest in a new cemetary far outside of Metrobay city limits. At least that's what the story in the papers said....

To this day that remained one of Max Indeck the III's favorite schemes. His first long range plan after wresting control of the facility from his father, he'd encouraged the dementia of a scientist named Nelly Cross who worked for him. She eventually evolved into morbidly obsessed Lady Necros. Her mad scheme not only ended up giving Max acres of prime downtown real estate but also made him a philanthropic hero for dealing with the delicate task of putting all of the bodies "to rest". If he remembered correctly, the last of the fertilizer that had been made with them was used up about a decade ago. As far as Doctor Cross went, she had a statue and memorial set in the shade of the building she'd made possible. Every year on the anniversary of her death Max brought her a bouquet of lilies which he laid on her grave before emptying a laser pistol into the coffin making sure she was still dead.

It was attention to the details that set the planners from the posers, he always said.

Today another plan was in motion though as a limo with the APEX logo on it pulled up in front of the building. A uniformed chaffeur got out and opened the passenger door to allow the superheroine agent Francine "Frankie" Franklin to get out. Today she was wearing a smartly tailored women's business suit that highlighted her voluptuous physique. She strode confidently through the building until she reached Max's secretary, an attractive young blonde with a deep tan wearing a revealing blouse and skirt combo. "Like, can I help you Miss?", she asked in a valley girl accent. The nameplate on her desk said 'Angie Swift'.

"Francine Franklin here for a 1:00 with Max Indecks," the brunette replied, her eyebrow raised a bit. This woman looked more like a beach bunny than an executive secretary. Of course, she knew better than to judge by appearances.

"Mmmmm...yup!", she declared, looking at a computer screen. "You're totally on time. Just a sec an' I'll let Mr. Indecks know you're here." She tapped her earpiece. "Mr. Indecks? Francine Franklin is like here for your 1:00." She paused then nodded enthusiasticly. "Yes sir!" She stood up, showing trim and athletic legs in a pair of 6" stilettos. "Right this way Miss Franklin." Her hips had an exaggerated wiggle as she led the other woman into the CEO's office.

Max stood as the two women entered, leering a bit. "Miss Franklin!", he declared. "I'm so glad you decided to meet with me today. Please, have a seat. Can I have Angie get you something? A soda perhaps?"

The talent agent strode up to the desk, not at all intimidated. She'd faced plenty of executives leading huges companies in her career. "Thank you, I'd like a diet soda. Need to watch my figure, you know." She smiled. "And please, call me Frankie," she added as she sat.

"Frankie it is then," he replied. "And you can call me Max. Angie, I'll have a scotch on the rocks neat."

"Like right away Mr. Indecks," the blonde chirped as she went to the bar built into the spacious room.

"So what can I do for you today...Max?", asked the pretty young brunette. "The message I got from my secretary was a little vague."

"A hazard of today's business world," he responded with a theatrical sigh. "With all the corporate espionage that goes on it doesn't pay much to reveal too many things over the phone. Anyway, I have a new advertising campaign in mind for APEX and I would like to have you on board for it."

Frankie scowled. "I'm a bit surprised to hear that," she said. "Last I heard you had an excellent PR department on staff here. They're the ones who came up with the Alice in Wonderland campaign for your children's antibiotics line 2 years ago. Marvelous work. It won a Clio Award if I remember correctly."

"It did indeed...and I see you've done your homework," he nodded. "The fact is that I like to acquire new blood every once in a while. Shake things up a bit with new ideas and such. Not only does it bring a different perspective to things it also keeps my own people from getting complacent."

"Well I'm flattered that you're interested in Frankly Frankie Franklin Productions," the businesswoman said warily, "I'm afraid it's a privately owned business. I'm not at all interested in selling it. I prefer being my own boss."

"Of course," Max assured her in a soothing voice. "I was speaking about a consulting arrangement...at least for the time being. You'd be surprised at how....fulfilling work for APEX can be. Miss Swift here for example once worked elsewhere before seeing the light and coming into our corporate family."

"Mr. Indecks is the most awesome boss EVER!", the blonde exulted enthusically, almost bouncing out of her top. "Coming to work here was like the best decision I ever made!"

"Oookay," Ms. Franklin said, her opinion of the vapid blonde having hit rock bottom.

Max must have seen the look of disapproval on her face because he quickly interjected, "You'll have to forgive Angie's enthusiasm. I know she seems rather scatterbrained but she can really be quite bright when the circumstances require. Plus she's the fastest typist I've ever seen, not to mention that her...dication skills are second to none."

"Awww, thanks Mr. Indecks!"

"You're welcome Angie. In any case Frankie," he said turning back to the talent agent, "I would consider it a personal favor if you'd agree to look over what we have on this new project this afternoon. Of course I except to be billed for your standard consulting fee...after you sign the requisite non-disclosure forms, of course."

Suddenly Angie was next to her with a clipboard with several sheets of paper attached. "Weren't you just...?" Frankie shook her head and look over the documents, eventually signing them.

As she did this, Max told Angie, "I think it's time for my 'medication'," he instructed her with a wink.

"Yes sir," she said, getting him a glass of water as he took out a bottle of tablets from his desk and swallowed one.

"There, all done," Frankie said laying the clipboard back on the desk.

"Excellent," the handsome executive said. "Let's be on our way then." He reached under his desk and pushed two separate concealed buttons. One of the bookcases on the wall swung out to reveal a hidden elevator.

"Nifty," the brunette said as she entered.

"What's the use of having my own building if I can't have a little fun with it?", he chuckled in reply. "This lets me go straight down to the labs if I need to get there quickly." The door closed behind them. "Lets see...I believe we need to go to sublevel 8," After several moments he pushed the button all the way at the bottom.

As the elevator started its descent, Frankie put her hand up to her temple. "Sorry," she stammered. "Feeling...kinda dizzy...."

"Oh, that would be the anesthetic gas that's being pumped in, the one I took the antidote for just now." He had a wolfish grin on his face as he punched the Stop button on the panel.

"An...anest...." She began to sway dizzily.

"Here, let me help you," the executive sneered, grabbing the young woman by her ample breasts and pushing her up against the wall. "There's nothing quite like a Metrobay girl," he added as he started to openly grope her. "It makes their breasts so big and firm and yet so sensitive...."

"Sen...sensitive....", Frankie moaned as she was molested.

"It's one of APEX's best projects," he declared. "Of course we're always doing further research...." One hand slid down and went under her skirt.

"OHH!", Frankie squealed, going wide eyed for a moment before her eyelids started to flutter again. She began to grunt in time with the thrusting of Max's fingers until she climaxed.

With a casual grin, he withdrew his hand and wiped it off on the front of her blouse.

"Welcome to the APEX family, Frankie."

He released her and she collapsed into a boneless heap before him on the floor.....

DISCLAIMER: This story is set in the Metrobay City universe from the Twisted Tales comics at www.hipcomix.com. Characters are used with permission but the secretary will disavow all knowledge of this fiction if any of the protagonists are caught or killed. To comment on the story please write the author at macrolass@hotmail.com, fawning praise is always accepted.

I'm a bitch, I'm a bitch
Oh the bitch is back
Stone cold sober as a matter of fact
I can bitch, I can bitch
`Cause I'm better than you
It's the way that I move
The things that I do....

* * * * *

Max paused before the door of Doctor Sayyid Kossis thoughtfully. The good Doctor (surely a misnomer in this case because there was very little that was "good" about the man) was formerly of the University of Cairo and had held a rather prestigious department head there...until he'd been exposed as Psychosis, leader of a cult of fanatic cult of Set and Nephthys worshippers that carried on a florishing slave trade until they were caught. for--d to flee from his homeland, APEX had taken him in with the goal of learning about his mind control techniques...not to mention that his cult might distract those pesky superheroines from the company's operations for a time. Of course Max realized that the man was quite mad, but then that was what accidents were for....

Max entered and saw that the occupants were at odds with the sterile and modern appearance of the lab. The two security guards at the door were bare chested and glassy eyed, wearing nothing but short kilts. The three female lab assistants on the other hand wore tight white linen floor length dresses. They were heavily made up and the kohl rimming their eyes emphasized their vacant stares. There were only two people in the room who weren't dressed like they were refugees from King Tut's court. First was obviously the Doctor himself, wearing a lab coat over a pair of bathing trunks. He was middle aged with a bit of a paunch but still handsome in his own way. His eyes gleamed with madness as he bent over the other non-anachronously dressed person in the room: Frankie Franklin laid out unconscious on a metal examination table. She was still dressed as before but her head was supported in a plastic cradle that was part of a separate device which had 4 metallic triangular plates fanned out just above it.

Max pulled on his collar to loosen his tie, feeling the sweltering 100+ degree heat in the lab. "Was there something wrong with the uniforms my people were issued?", he quipped, taking in the scene. "And what's wrong with the thermostat?"

"I wanted something that reminded me of home," the older man replied in precisely clipped English. "Your people were...adequate...if not schooled to my liking. Nothing that couldn't be...fixed." He moved over to a panel which showed a 3D model of Ms. Franklin's brain. "And as for the heat I find that your so called 'room temperature' is far too chilly. It encourages sloth and slows the thinking. A warmer clime increases the flow of blood to the body and the brain, improving physical performance and mental acuity. Isn't that right ladies? You feel much more alert and active now, don't you?"

"Yes Doctor Kossis...", they answered in a simultaneous drone.

Max nodded. Perhaps he should move up the timetable on that accident....

"Wait a moment," the businessman stated. "I thought you had four lab assistants. It was part of your 'recruitment package' that we'd agreed upon. ROPE had agreed to everything you wanted."

A toothy smirk crossed Sayyid's face. "Ah yes, there in hangs a tale. It seems that your workplace is infested with spies, Mr. Indecks. Someone infiltrated my assistants and tried to pry into my research, hacking into my computers after hours." He snapped his fingers at which two of the assistants went to roll in a long and narrow device that looked like a high tech coffin. They removed the lid to show another woman wrapped like a mummy in latex strips, her head encased in a full helmet. "Sadly, I was unable to extract any information from her about her master. She was apparently the victim of heavy hypnotic conditioning that caused her mind to shatter, regressing to an infantile state when she was caught. Quite ingenious actually." He removed the helmet to show the face of a lovely latina woman, drooling and unreactive. "I've been keeping her hoping to find a trigger to restore her but I have had no luck so far. My research continues."

Indecks managed to keep a straight face through the horrific sight. Thank God he'd used one of his few deep cover agents. Plausible deniability was definitely the name of this game. "Let's focus here Doctor," he interjected. "To matters at hand."

"Ah yes, Miss Franklin." He let his girls wheel away the spy and went back to the bound talent agent. "I will tell you that I don't like surprises, Mr. Indecks. I have other matters that demand my attention and I do not appreciate being commanded to drop them just to gain you another toy...lovely though she might be." He traced the line of her jaw with a leathered finger.

"This one is going to be important Doctor," Max insisted. "Possibly even more so than your work on Angie."

"Ah, the brilliant Miss Swift...or should I refer to her by her other name Jetstream?" The madman chuckled. "Acquiring her grandfather Tom's company was quite the stroke for you, wasn't it? And strange how your superheroine problems in California have suddenly ceased. I will admit it was entertaining splitting her into 3 different personalities with certain skills assigned to certain specific personas....."

"Yes, your work was impeccable," Max said, schmoozing the older scientist. "And I need something equally intricate with Frankie here. Her business acumen would be very useful to me...not to mention that having her just disappear might be inconvenient. But she also has a metahuman identity that I want to shape and control. I want her totally mine Sayyid, mine and no one else's."

Psychosis nodded, taking his financer's meaning. "I have my own slaves to serve me. You may keep your superhuman bitches as your personal toys if you wish. I have no interest in enthalling one of my own that is more powerful than I am. Such things turn out...badly...in my experience. She will be ready when you need her."

Max decided to push a bit since Kossis seemed to be in an agreeable mood today. "I was having a bit of trouble with your research grant earlier this month," he said slyly. "People keep insisting on associating all mental influencing research with Doctor Twisted's experiments."

As the entrepeneur thought, this did provoke a reaction in the insane scientist. "Twiss is nothing but a hack!", he said, spitting in disdain. "His process is like using a hammer to pound square pegs into round holes, to use one of your English analogies. It will sometimes work...but not only does it damage the brain but it requires external instrumentality to provide control. MY method is nothing like that!"

Max pushed further. "Yes that much is obvious but without knowing a bit of HOW it works there's little I can tell people that don't have the faith in your skills that I do."

Waggling a finger, the elder scientist snapped, "You seek to fool me with honeyed words, my friend. But just to show you that *I* am honest in my dealings, I will tell you a bit of my process." He went back over to the console and called up the display of Frankie's brain along with a wavy line graph at the bottom. "I will assume that you are not totally unschooled in the science of electroencephalography, the measurement and study of the electrical impulses generated by the human brain." He reverted to lecture mode as if he were back in class. "There are 4 primary types of continuous rhythmic sinusoidal EEG activity: the alpha, beta, delta, and theta states. Sometimes gamma is included as well for higher activity states as well. Our primary concern today is with the theta state which is associated with times of lesser mental activity ranging from drowsiness to young adulthood. It can be observed during hypnagogic states such as pre and post sleep cycles, lucid/deep day dreaming, or hypnosis."

"When I was younger I suffered from a sleep disorder myself and so experimented with recording the patterns of my own brainwaves in order to find some corrective measure for my lack of slumber especially during unusual activities such as orgasm and past life regression. I discovered that I achieved the most results, in a mind altering sense, when my brainwaves reached a very precise frequency. It only lasted for seconds at a time but 80% of the results I achieved were at that time. Performing these experiments on others I found similar results although it was unique point for every individual. I dubbed the Kossian Node."

"When I presented my findings to the university though I was laughed at. The blind fools on the review board wouldn't accept the validity of my research...and given that the Kossian Node proved elusive under even rigorous testing I couldn't reproduce my results." He started flipping switches on the panel. "That's when I came up with the EM field projector that's currently positioned about Miss Franklin's head. They produce a precise field of magnetic energy that causes a nervous system between then to resonate at the frequency I choose. If I wanted, right now I could multiply my subject's IQ by a factor of 10...or reduce her to a gibbering moron. Of course the field needs to be carefully maintained or her brain could literally fry inside her skull as happened with my first few trials. Still, you have to break some eggs to make an omelette as they say..."

"Ah, the preliminary scan of her brain is done," the scientist stated. "Now we begin the real work...." He began to slowly turn a dial and the plates beside the young woman's head started to glow violet as they came together to form a pyramid over the top part of her skull. "I added the color component to make it a bit more interesting visually...."

Max watched in fascination as the bound entrepeneur moaned and writhed on the table. He'd of course seen the results of Psychosis' handiwork before but never been present during one of the sessions.

Suddenly Francine gasped and her eyes flew open, glowing the same eerie purple as the field generators. "There!", declared the older man triumphantly. "The subject's Node has been found and locked in. She is now openly receptive to programming and will become whatever you tell her to be, do whatever you tell her to do. Observe." He clicked on a microphone. "Miss Franklin, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you," came the droning reply.

"Orgasm for me 4 times, 9.3 seconds between each, each one twice as potent as the one before."

"Uhhh...", grunted the brunette. Then on cue, she called out thrice more, "Uhhhhh....UHHHHH....AGGGGHHHH!!!" She then lapsed back into her quiessent state.

"And there you have it," Kossis declared, turning back to Max. "Ready for you to work your will upon. So what will you do with her?", he asked with a leer. "Will you make her a tabula rasa, a blank slate like you did with Miss Swift?" He licked his lips, relishing watching one of his subjects being worked on like putty.

"Actually I've been giving that some thought," the industrialist said, pacing about. "I've been developing a theory of my own that many of these heroines we enslave that manage to break our control over them are able to do so because we work against their fundamental natures. I mean, it's all well and good to program one of these bitches to be rabid whores but it's like going against the grain of a piece of wood. While there might be a nugget inside of them that longs to be controlled and manipulated, most of these slatterns strutting about in their skintight spandex actually think that they're paragons of virture, someone to be looked up to. Thus when we turn them into sexy sluts there's internal tension that works against their programming, allowing any potential resistance to gain a foothold."

Nodding, the egyptian pondered. "Any interesting theory Mr. Indecks. Of course any decent brainwashing procedure replaces the orginal persona and doesn't just cover it up...but lets assume for a moment that your hypothesis is true. What does that have to do with Miss Franklin?"

"Assuming that the less invasive your control procedure is," Max continued, "the more of the original personality and creativity remains to be exploited. Take Angie for example. She was a brilliant inventor before, having come up with her aura projector that converts friction and heat energy into an energy form that grants her superspeed. But after going through your process her ability to think on her own is stunted. She can work well enough on projects that I instruct her to but she's no longer able to make those intuitive leaps that made her so brilliant before." He held up his hand. "I don't blame you for that, it's what I asked you to do. I have plenty of pet scientists, she's much more valuable to me as she is now. She makes a perfect personal secretary, fucktoy, and bodyguard."

"But my needs for Francine are a bit more demanding. I have plans for her...big plans." He snickered at his unintended pun. "So I'm going to try taking advantage of her natural affinity for money and finances, play upon her greed. If I'm right she'll become a loyal and completely obedient employee, totally ruthless and avaristic as long as your process gives me access to her innermost desires."

Psychosis laughed. "I think you'll find your access to her mind is as deep or shallow as you require. I am intruigued by this line of research though." He stood to offer his boss the seat at the microphone. "As long as you allow me to keep notes on her progress I agree to help you."

Sitting, Mr. Indecks positioned the microphone. "We may need several sessions to 'fine tune' her so to speak. This needs to be done carefully. Nothing wrong with getting started today though." He spoke to the enthralled woman. "Frankie...Frankie, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you...", she replied again.

"I've seen you as MacroLass, I know all the secrets you hide...so you don't feel the need to conceal anything from me. I'm your best friend, your closest confidante...your lover...so my knowledge is only right and appropriate. You'll answer all of my questions truthfully and to the best of your ability."

"Must...answer truthfully. Max...friend...confidante...lover," she said in a soft moan. "He knows all my secrets...."

"Now, we both know that you have superpowers but you haven't done much of anything with them. You even turned down an offer to join the Superheroine Squad. You could be famous, why haven't you taken advantage of them?"

"Got...got my powers from a crazy sorceress," she answered. "Made me...to be her enforcer, her bodyguard. Had to obey...couldn't resist...at first. Demon...in control...of my body. But...she hated Malefica...."

"Malefica. That was the sorceress, right?"

The bound woman nodded. "Yes. But...I tricked her...played on the demon's...hate of being bound. Cut a deal...she would give me control...and its powers...and I would beat its Mistress."

Max nodded in admiration. "Clever girl. I think we'll work together well, my dear," he mused. Speaking again to her he said, "I assume you beat her since you're here now."

"Yes. Locked her away...in a magic prision...she'd made for Spellweaver...and Enchantress. No escape...at least that's what she believed."

"And what does that have to do with not being a heroine?"

"My powers...evil," she said, a trace of fear in her tone. "I killed some people...at Malefica's command. Can't risk...that evil taking over again! Don't want...to lose control!" Despite Kossis' machine a rising note of hysteria entered her voice.

"Shhhh, shhhh, it's all right Frankie," he told her in a soothing voice. "Your powers aren't evil. You are a strong woman, you have complete control over them. Those thoughts won't bother you any more."

A smile crossed Frankie's face as she relaxed. "Not...evil...I am strong...I have control...over my powers...."

Then it was Max's turn to start grinning. "I'm going to tell you now the real reason why you haven't put on tights and gone public. Again, this is the truth...you trust me completely."

"Max tells the truth...trust him completely...."

"The real reason you haven't become a superslut is because there's no money in it. You've always believed in the bottom line, how things can most profit YOU. And while you don't have anything against 'freebies' for the right reason, you still have to put bread on the table, still have to earn a living. Up till now, there hadn't been a way to use your powers for profit so you kept them hidden."

Of course. It all sounded so reasonable when Max spelled it out. "Yes...must turn a profit...must use my powers for my own benefit...."

"In fact, even though you've had some of them as clients, you hate superheroines. They're ticks, parasites...soaking up public admiration like cheap tampons. They're all sluts and whores, parading around in their sexy outfits and letting people give them money for just standing around and looking beautiful. They don't actually DO anything to earn their keep."

Warming to the diatribe being injected into her brain, the brunette scowled. "Parasites...whores...I hate superheroines...hate them...."

"But of course since YOU have powers you're just as horny as the rest of them," he insisted. "You love parading around in your skintight outfit, all sexy and slutty...you're a whore too, just like them..."

"..horny...sexy...slutty..." She licked her lips and moaned. "I'm...a whore...."

"Unlike the rest of them though you knew the truth and admitted it. You were smart and looked around to sell your 'services' to the highest bidder...and that when you found APEX Labs. Not only are you getting all the money you could ever want by selling yourself and your identity to them but you also found the man of your dreams: me."

"Mmmmmmaxxxxxxx....", she cooed in ecstacy, twitching in orgasmic rapture again. "Money...working for Max...."

Greed and lust both burned in Max's eyes. "Turn into your superself for me, Frankie. Show me what you've got."

The tearing of fabric ripped through the air in the lab as the already voluptuous brunette started to grow. Her already sizable breasts ballooned even bigger, sitting firm and high atop her toned torso. The metal bands restraining her popped off as she pulled the bolts right out of the table. Her 7' frame hung off the edges of the table as her breathing deeped to a husky alto panting. Her clothes were in tatters, revealing more than they covered.

"That's my girl," Max declared with an encouraging grin. "This is going to be the start of a beautiful...and very profitable...friendship for the both of us. Now here's what we'll do next....."

Great stuff, Macrolass!..looking forward to the next chapters!

DISCLAIMER: This story is set in the Metrobay City universe from the Twisted Tales comics at www.hipcomix.com. Characters are used with permission but the secretary will disavow all knowledge of this fiction if any of the protagonists are caught or killed. To comment on the story please write the author at macrolass@hotmail.com, fawning praise is always accepted.


Now I ain't sayin' she's a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke broke....


* * * * *

FLASHBACK....

The batwing mask with the glowing eyes behind filled Frankie's vision. "Sink ye maiden in the depths of Lethe, Arise my servant MegaDeath!"

The young brunette dropped to her knees, her body rippling and flowing. What she turned into couldn't be seen in the shadows but she was huge with glints of metal catching what little light was in the room. "It's not pronounced like 'left'," the demonslave growled in an erriely echoing voice. "It's more like 'leafy'...."

"I didn't bring you here to criticize my pronunciation," snarled the sorceress. "If it was good enough for Kirby, it will do for you. I have a mission for you."

"How about something along the lines of 'There was once a girl from Metrobay, whose Mistress was decidedly gayyyEAARRRHH!" The muscular demoness screamed as ripples of magic flowed over it.

"Silence servant," the dark haired woman spat. "I talk, you listen, then you obey. That's how it works. Do your crude limericks on your own time."

"It's this body you've saddled me with," the statuesque slave protested. "Her will is strong. I cannot suborn her completely. She...influences me."

"Still, she will obey as do you," the mage stated. "There is someone who has a tome I desire. He had the audacity not to sell it to me, so he must die."

"You're the boss...", the thuggish leatherwoman shrugged.

PRESENT TIME....

The sky was bright and blue over the APEX Laboratories Testing Grounds just outside the city limits of Metrobay. The bleachers around the stage were full to the brim: when Maxwell Indecks held a press conference out here, it was usually a big deal. No reporter worth his salt would miss it. The crowd was abuzz as they looked over a mock one story office building with a wall missing before them and the tank parked well behind the stage. Was APEX actually going to demonstrate a weapon to be sold on the public market? So far they'd taken such care to project a friendly and nonaggressive face to the public; if this were indeed some sort of armament it would show a major change in direction for the research firm.

Max smiled as he stepped up to the podium. Everything was in place. This would not only garner him even more fame and money but would also place those snooty Superheroine Squad bitches down a notch or two.

**I love it when a plan comes together,** he though to himself, smirking as he spotted a plane flying high over the field out of the corner of his eye.

"Thank you for coming," the handsome industrialist stated, the wireless microphone in his lapel picking up his words. "I'm sure you'll all want to make your deadlines so I'll get right to the point. APEX Laboratories Inc. has always been at the forefront of cutting edge research which has made it a target in the past for individuals with less than savory motives. I need not remind anyone that APEX has been the target of many terrorist attacks in the last few years. While the Superheroine Squad of course has been of great assistance in the past helping us deal with such thieves and saboutuers, we here at APEX understand that their primary duty must always be to the citizens of this great city. So in the interests of relieving them of the burden of having to protect our facilities, I annouce the formation of APEX Securities, a new elite organization whose goal will be the protection of corporate interests so that Ms. Metrobay and her associates can continue the work they do."

Up above, a figure could be seen leaping from the plane as Max stepped back. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you the head of our newest corporate division....Apex!"

Hurtling like a rocket from hundreds of feet above, the figure hit the ground at terminal velocity, making the earth shake as it struck the tarmac and made a huge crater. The assembled reporters panicked for a moment as small bits of stone rained down on them but the point of impact had been set far enough away so that no one would be seriously hurt. As they recovered from their shock the figure could be seen striding out of the hole...which started the cameras to flashing.

It was very definitely a woman, well over seven and a half feet tall. She was gorgeous and voluptuous, easily the equal in a feminine sense of any of the heroines Metrobay had come to know and love. She casually brushed bits of concrete out of her shoulder length brown hair as she strode up towards the crowd. Her black costume clung to her body for dear life, a cut-out diamond on her chest giving an excellent view of her firm gargantuan breasts. A complimentary diamond emphasized each well rounded hip. Matching apparel (with silver highlights) were a pair of boots with 6" heels made her even taller, elbow length gloves that added a hint of class, and a half face mask which concealed her eyes. The final feature was a broad silver segmented metal belt with the APEX corporate logo as its buckle.

Max chuckled over his microphone. "I hope you all will forgive the rather theatrical entrance but a woman of unusual talents deserves an appropriate introduction. Apex has kindly offered to demonstrate her abilities to us today despite a personal reluctance to 'blow her own horn' so to speak. For today's purposes we'll be doing a terrorist rescue scenario." He gestured as 4 men with automatic weapons came out onto the field leading a pretty but middle aged redhead. He let them take up positions inside the building, one guards as one went through file cabinets and the others started sexually molesting the woman at her desk. "Apex, you may proceed when you're ready."

The statuesque woman nodded, grinned...and then seemingly vanished into thin air. The crowd gasped, not knowing that she'd merely shrunk down to about 6" tall and changed her costume's color to blend in with the concrete beneath her. All they knew is that she'd disappeared...and then several moments later reappeared in her full glory behind the two thugs who obligingly didn't notice her appearance until the cameras began flashing again.

With a single move, she grabbed the two men atop the women and slammed them into each other, rendering them unconscious. She leapt in front of the desk and spread herself wide as the remaining terrorists blasted away with their weapons. Fortunately the amazon was more than ample enough (especially in the chest region) to cover her which meant their bullets bounced off ineffectually. Once they were done she favored one with a backhand than sent him through the wall of the building. The last one ran but couldn't outrun the longer legged metahuman who caught him and theatrically bearhugged him into submission. The crowd responded with enthusiastic applause. Apex responded with a slight smile and a wave.

"Now who would like to see what Apex can REALLY do?", Max asked in a conspiritorial voice. At that, the tank that had been sitting there roared to life and rumbled out onto the field. Apex moved away from the terrorist actors towards the place where she'd landed and dug in her heels. Concentrating, the air rippled around her and the ground cracked beneath her feet as she increased her density to maximum.

"FIRE!", yelled the industrialist.

The main gun on the tank roared as it shot Apex square in the chest. She theatrically staggered back a step but a quick look at her fabulous tits assured everyone she was pretty much unharmed by the attack. Grinning, she strode over to the tank, staved in the huge barrel with a single blow, then folded it in half. Then she reached down, grabbed the treads, and lifted the whole vehicle over her head, obviously not having to strain very hard. She posed, letting the reporters get as many pictures as they wanted before casually tossing it away back over her shoulder.

Then the scene rewound, the huge metal bulk flying back into her hands and then freezing as the gorgeous brunette showed off her body to the cameras. "Fabulous," Max declared with a smirk as he toyed with Angie on his lap, watching the press conference tape on a monitor. "I should've gotten my own superslut years ago."

"What about me?", pouted the blonde, wiggling her mini-skirted ass against his crotch. "Like you've got me Mr. Indecks...."

"That's right, I'd forgotten you did have powers once before I had you brainwashed, didn't you?", he chuckled. "No offense Angie, but you're just not in her league...powerwise or bodywise." He groped one of her apple sized tits.

"Oooooo," she moaned. "Like it's not my fault I wasn't born with huge boobies...I'll get some if you want though...."

Max smirked. "Probably just as well. I like you as you are. If you were any better endowed you'd probably end up bludgeoning yourself unconscious."

Their little tete-a-tete was interrupted by a bookcase swinging aside, the opening of a secret door into Max's office. Apex stepped out, dressed in a black fishnet bodysuit, towelling off her damp body. "Damn, I *love* this costume Max!", she declared. "I can even shower in it!"

"It's a special synthetic polymer," Max answered. "Almost infinitely ductile, elastic, and even photo-reactive. The strands of that fishnet you're wearing are actually tiny tubes made of it running all over your body carrying more of the polymer inside. With the computer controls in the gloves, it can release the fluid inside into any of the open spaces, filling them in and forming whatever costume we design for you like pieces in a puzzle. It also grows and shrinks with you. In fact, it'd revolutionize the fashion world if only I could figure out how to keep it from becoming inert after a day or two of wear. But anyway, consider that just another perk from your new job. Oh, and speaking of bennies...." He smirked as he fished a thick pile of bills out of his desk and tossed it to the young woman. "Your bonus for the press conference today. Good job."

Frankie moaned whorishly as she caught the bundle and started massaging herself with it. "Damn...oh DAMN...thank you boss...." She twitched as she came.

"You're welcome," he replied. "I like to keep all of our corporate whores happy. Speaking of which...Angie, go over and 'help' Apex, would you? I want to see the two of you make out before I have my own fun."

Giggling, the blonde bounced up off of his lap. "Awesome!", she cheered. "I like being your 'ho Mr. Indecks...." She toddled over and began kissing her fellow wage slave.

A grin spread over Max's face as the two women thrashed against each other moaning passionately. This was what he lived for: total subjugation and control. Right now Angie and Frankie weren't people, they were puppets...puppets dancing to his tune. Later he would have them....

Suddenly his train of thought was derailed as his phone rang. In irritation he looked over and noticed it was his private R.O.P.E. line. This was something he couldn't ignore. Sighing and composing himself, he answered it. "Indecks here. Please be brief, I'm very busy at the moment."

A sultry feminine tone echoed eerily over the line. "Oh, you have time for THIS Maxie," she stated with ire. "And don't worry about your ROPE friends...they're all...tied up...at the moment." She giggled musically. "Get it? ROPE? All tied u....oh, never mind...."

"Who is this?", he asked. It was VERY unusual to hear a woman's voice over that line since most of the ROPE members were male.

"Who I am isn't important," she retorted. "In fact, who YOU are isn't important either since you're merely a selfimportant disease inflated pimple on humankind's ass. I'm calling about your new corporate 'acquisition', Apex."

"What about her?"

"What about her?" The voice on the other end sighed wearily. "MegaDeath...MacroLass...Apex...whatever you want to call her...is MY property, you dolt. Release her from your service at once."

"YOUR property?", he said in astonishment.

"Funny, I don't believe that I stuttered," she retorted. "Yes, I am the one who gave Frankie her powers. She is MY servant. I am doing you the courtesy of asking you to release what is rightfully mine."

"Hold on, HOLD ON!", Max declared. "You mean to say you created a metahuman with her power...and then just let her run around loose?"

"I don't need to explain myself to the likes of YOU. I will tell you one last time, release her from your mindspell or I will have to come and *take* her from you."

The industrialist had had just about enough. "Look, I'm sure we can work something out. I have plans for her...."

"Which are no concern of mine. I have plans of my own."

"...And we here in the US have a little rule called 'Possession is 9/10ths of the law'. You can't just pop up out of nowhere and expect me to hand over something valuable like her. Now if we could talk face to face, negotiate in good faith...."

She snorted in derision. "Your primiitive mind is transparent even without a telepathic spell. You think to lure me to a situation where you have an advantage and try to ensnare me, thinking I am naught but a foolish female. I think it is time you learned something of the power of my gender, Max Indecks. Prepare yourself and your legions...for I will be coming for what is rightfully mine...."

Max yelped and dropped his cellphone as it burst into hellfire flames and melted into a puddle.

Back in her lair, the sorceress pouted. "The NERVE of that man!", she declared, "thinking he could be on any sort of an equal footing with ME." She fished out a bonbon from a box next to her, mashed it atop the rigid cock of a male thrall standing next to her, and sucked it off. "I need to send him a message...one that teaches him not to take his betters lightly. On the other hand it must be appropriately...farcical since I don't want him to think I attach too much importance to the threat he represents." She sighed. "If he hadn't renamed her I could just call her back...damn mortal fool." She gestured to one of the other slaves. "You there, turn on the magic picture box. Its mindless chatter helps me think...."

The TV flared to life. Malefica watched as the channels rolled by...then called for it to halt as a cartoon appeared. She watched for a while, a grin growing on her face. "Yes...yes...this one will do nicely to get my point across...SUMMONICA ELECTRONICUS!"

Lighting flashed about the TV set which spat out a bolt onto the floor in front of the demon sorceress. A well built teenaged boy with short brown spiky hair and squinting eyes appeared. "Huh?"

Malefica chuckled. "ENRAPTURO...."

He dropped to his knees and looked up reverently. "Oh Mistress Malefica, how may I serve you?"

"I have need of your services little man," she answered. "You are of age to serve me well. Become my pawn and you will have all of the gorgeous women you could desire as your loveslaves...except for me of course."

He bowed his head. "I am your humble slave, Mistress."

"Then let us begin," she said as her finger glowed and touched him atop his head.....

These are some great stories! Keep up the good work, ML!

Thanks for the words of encouragement guys. Hopefully the addition of Brick and his 'game' won't make things too silly. Then again, this is the universe that has an advanced AI prototype as a supervillainous milkmaid....

DISCLAIMER: This story is set in the Metrobay City universe from the Twisted Tales comics at www.hipcomix.com. Characters are used with permission but the secretary will disavow all knowledge of this fiction if any of the protagonists are caught or killed. To comment on the story please write the author at macrolass@hotmail.com, fawning praise is always accepted.

Grandma got enraptured by the bad guy,
Flying home from our base Christmas Eve,
You might say there's no such thing as MC,
But as for me and Robo, we believe....

* * * * *

In a dimly lit back alley in Metrobay....the back door to Club Rocket opened allowing three sexy young women to exit. The first was a tall and leggy blonde dressed in a tight 'Visualize Whirled Peas' green tiedyed t-shirt and a green leather micro-mini carrying a guitar case. Next came an equally tall but slightly bustier black woman wearing a white leather bustier and skirt combo who was toting a bass. Bringing up the rear was a lithe and pretty oriental dressed in hiphuggers and a faded 'Hello Kitty' t that lugged along a drum kit.

"I think that went pretty good," declared the leader Gina, running a hand through her hair and showing off her pink highlights. "We're really starting to find our groove."

"Yeah, maybe we can learn a second song now," the african-american Omaha teased. "Seriously though, we need to practice, start takin' this seriously. Just shakin' our asses up on stage isn't getting us much of anywhere. I had enough of that when I was a dancer."

"I have a very nice ass thank you," the white woman giggled. "Sides, I don't see you suffering...I saw you giving the eye to that table full of frat boys...and the number on the piece of paper that the bouncer slipped to you. You are SUCH a ho!"

"Can we just hurry up and get out of here?", the drummer Yu interjected. "Some of us have REAL jobs. I need to be up in 6 hours to open up the store. After you two drop me off you can argue as much as you like."

Their banter ceased as they turned around the corner. Leaning up against their van was an attractive young man with short spiky brown hair and squinty eyes smoking a cigarette. "Ladies...." He leered at the group as he flicked his smoke to the ground and ground it out. "I saw your performance at the club. Yu-Gi-Oh, wasn't it...your band name? I was...impressed. Very impressed."

"Thanks," said the blonde. "Ummmm...that's our van there. Would you mind?"

"Oh, sure." He grinned and stepped off to the side.

"So you like our music?", the black woman said. He was kinda cute but there was this really weird vibe about him that set her on edge.

"Huh? Oh God no," he retorted. "You all suck big time."

"Hey!", barked the lead singer in irritation.

"Don't take it personally," he said with a shrug, backing off a bit more to let them approach their van. "It's just that I look at you three and think your talents lie in...other directions. Let me introduce myself...you can call me Brick, as in 'you make me as hard as a'." He smirked at the threesome. "Pretty soon you'll be calling me 'Master' though." He retreated a bit more down the opposite alley.

"Get lost sicko!" The drummer dropped her case and advanced on him, striking a fluid martial arts pose. "I don't know what your game is but...."

"Game?", Brick said. "Sure, let's play a game. C'mon out babe."

From out behind a dumpster strode a tan, gorgeous, and busty female dressed only in a pair of 5" heels and a yellow silk negligee. She had a vaguely beachbunny look about her with golden skin and a physique to die for. Her pupils were completely dialated though giving her an eerie glassy eyed look even though her face was lit up by a brilliant smile. Tips of pointed ears poked through her mass of honey blonde curls.

"What the hell?", asked the bassist. "Who is she supposed to be, your bodyguard?"

"Amongst her other 'talents', yeah," the strange young man smirked. "Go get 'em Peek. And hurry it up, I'm horny."

The oriental got ready to strike as the newcomer advanced, the mindless smile not having changed at all. Not wanting to screw around with this unknown fighter, she lashed out with a palm strike.

"Dodge and give her a Piece of Tail!", called out Brick.

The martial artist gasped in surprise as her blow was easily evaded. Then the blonde whirled about and there was a heavy slapping sound like from a cartoon. It happened so fast that the next thing that registered in the defeated girl's mind was her bowling into her friends, knocking them all down into a semi-conscious heap.

"Wha...what the hell was that?", the lead singer moaned. "Is...is she...some kind of superhuman?"

Brick chuckled. "Super...yeah, I'll cop to that. As far as human goes...well...you'll see. Peek babe, finish them off. Not too hard though...I don't want them damaged. Yet."

Giggling, the scantily clad girl skipped forward and grabbed her top. "Peekaboo!", she said, yanking down the flimsy fabric to reveal two rosy red and very erect nipples topping a pair of large breasts.

Brick leered in delight as an actinic flash lit up the alley and the girls' screams were drowned out by the band inside.. "Good job Peek. You can play with yourself and cum, but make it quick."

The mousy young woman began to fondle herself, blissfully unaware as 3 more popping sounds echoed in the alley followed by 3 flashes of light....

When the police arrived later, the alley was empty, only the scattered instruments and abandoned van giving any sign that people had been there.

* * * * *

Max drummed his fingers in irritation on the armrest of the plush leather seat of his private yacht. This should be the happiest day of his life. His newest slavegirl, Frankie, an honest to God metaslut, had fallen into his clutches and was even at this moment obediently mixing him a highball. She'd succumbed completely to her brainwashing and was now a super golddigger, willing to do anything for money. And since he was the richest guy around she was fawning over him shamelessly.

But he should have known that nothing in this world is free. Apparently Frankie already had a mistress, one she didn't know about consciously. It was a sorceress named Malefica, one of true badasses of the supervillain mystical world. And apparently she was pissed that he'd taken her property.

All of Max's sources verified that she was indeed a threat. A capricious and self-absorbed minx, Malefica had been a behind the scenes player for the last couple of years, lending bits of mystic aid here and there to evil enterprises that amused her. And now it looked like her attention was focused squarely on APEX Laboratories.

Lucky him.

Forturnately he wasn't without resources of his own. Right now Angie was piloting his yacht to ROPE's exclusive island to marshal troops for the coming battle. If the bitch wanted a fight, he was more than willing to oblige.

It was too bad the witch hadn't been willing to negotiate. Frankie was well worth almost any amount of money. Couldn't Malefica just magic up another tart to be her pawn? The more and more he dealt with women who had free will the more he liked mindslaves. It just made dealing with their emotions and hormones so much easier....

"Mr. Indecks sir?", Angie piped up. "We'll be arriving at Dock 1 in just a minute. The limo is waiting to take you to the mansion."

"Good," he said curtly. "Once we're docked you and Frankie put on your ROPE jumpers and come with me. We need to get moving on this."

He rose from his seat and strode out onto the deck, leaving his freshly made highball behind. He drummed his fingers on the railing impatiently as a limo pulled up to take him to the main office. Even the sight of his two thralls in their red rubber ROPE unitards (with woven hemp belts) that looked like they'd been painted on from their breasts down to mid-thighs failed to lighten his mood. A chaufeusse opened the door of the vehicle allowing them to get in. They didn't stay there long though as the door was soon opened again to let them out at the main R.O.P.E. headquarters: part southern mansion, part Palace of Versailles, and part five star hotel.

Sensing that their important guest was in no mood to dally, the concierge immediately escorted them to the main meeting room where two couples waited...a rather portly middle aged businessman with a curvy short haired blonde kneeling at his feet and a younger handsome blonde man with an equally pretty dark haired woman sitting on his lap. "Gentlemen, thank you for coming," he began. "I'll get right to the point. APEX is currently under a metahuman threat and I need some extra 'muscle' for the new security division. As junior members of ROPE, you've benefited from your membership here in many ways but you have to realize that there are certain conditions and obligations that go along with those perks...one of which is that your lovely companions are merely on 'loan' to you. I need Freedom Girl and Juris Prudence...or rather the metasluts they are now. I can't say how long it will be until they'll be returned or even if they will be. Now you have a couple of choices...either we can provide you with replacements, obviously not metas of course....or we can give you a monthly 'rental fee'."

As the older man started to sputter, the younger man took in the situation and decided to brown-nose. "Well like I said when I brought Freedom Girl as my 'entrance exam'," he said, "I always intended her to be used to the 'good' of ROPE. Take her, do what you have to." It'd be a damn shame to go without such a fine piece of ass but her original purpose was helping him climb the ROPE ladder. If he could sacrifice her a second time to go even higher...well, it sucked to be her....

Max nodded. "I like your attitude Wesley. I'll remember this when the Council is evaluating memberships later."

Meanwhile, the other gentleman wasn't nearly so taken with Max's demand. "This is unacceptable!", he declared. "I just married Prissman...Juris Prudence here...and made her a partner in my firm! I can't have my wife go missing for months on end! She's got work to do, cases to try! I refuse to let you have her!"

Max sighed heavily and massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Phineas, you're being a dick," the industrialist said. "My offer is more than reasonable...."

The fat man remained intractable. "No! Your lack of planning does NOT consitute an emergency on my part. I might not have been in ROPE as long as you but I have rights! I demand...."

"A hearing before the Council, yes," finished Max in a weary tone. "Fortunately I anticipated your request and had a tele-conference with them on my way here. They agree with me that my need for your lovely new wife is greater than yours...but that you do have a prior claim. So we have an offer for you. Right now we're having our agents look for a woman who matches Janice's look and physique as closely as possible. Once we 'acquire' a body double we'll have an independant contractor known as Syman use a device in his possession to copy Ms. Prissman's memories and psyche over to this new person and turn her into a virtual copy of your wife. She'd be exactly the same except she wouldn't have Juris Prudence's powers. To sweeten the deal we'll also make that 'upgrade' to your secretary that you've been requesting free of charge."

His expression softened. "Hmmmm...maybe. But I'll warn you my standards are VERY high. If this new Janice isn't just as good 'in chambers' as the old one, I'm going to want damages."

"That's fair," nodded Max. "Are we agreed then?"

"Agreed."

"Thank you." At his gesture a couple of ROPE functionaries came over. "These gentlemen are with the Mediation division. They'll finalize the details about your 'payments'. Forgive me for being curt but I need to get my new recruits modifed as soon as possible."

"Modified?", asked the young blonde man, standing up. He gave the dark haired woman a slight push and she obediently moved behind Max and his other women.

"Well we can't very well have them go out as Freedom Girl and Juris Prudence, now can we?", the ROPE chairman stated. "Right now I've got a design team working on new identities and accoutrements for our little metatoys, the same one who did Apex. Anyone that comes after Apex Labs now is going to have a very UNpleasant surprise."

With that he turned and walked off, all of the metawomen including Juris Prudence following.....

I'm not sure what I like better, the story or the song. Either way, great job!

- Doc