Chapter 9: Wallowing

Figura woke up in an alleyway she didn’t recognize with a taste in her mouth that she instantly knew she would never forget.

How did I… What… Where was… Nnnnn…

Thinking back to the night before made her head, and then her whole body, throb loudly. Her thighs ached. Her back was sore. Her pussy was still needy, still demanding, burning and pulsing and throbbing with a heat that wouldn’t go away.

She’d only just managed to stand up, but as she became aware of her still-unquenched cravings, it wasn’t long before she’d crumpled back into a heap.

In her half-awake hazy state, it was difficult for Figura to remember how long it had been since Evanthe set her body aflame making her so horny and needy without any ability to satisfy herself. It felt like it was getting easier for her to gain a certain level of self-control, and yet her need was growing worse every day, even every hour.

Trembling on the ground, knowing that she was in a public alleyway and that anyone might find her there, Figura desperately clutched at whatever she could reach that wasn’t her own body.

C-can’t trust my own hands… s-so… fucking… horny… fuck… why won’t they let me cum…?!

Her thighs clenched tighter as the heat between them raged on. The slightest friction made her body feel so much better, and made her need feel so much worse. The leotard she wore to appear heroic, to become Figura, felt good enough pressed against her body that it might as well have been a sex toy.

Panting, Figura forced herself to rise from the ground again. She could only manage it by leaning back against one of the walls, but it was enough to have something solid and firm against the back of her head. It helped her center herself, even as she needed to place her hands flat against the same wall to resist reaching down between her legs to stroke at her own molten, pleading center.

Just a little touch felt like it would be enough.

It taunted her, teased her, and made every small twist of her body feel like delicious agony. With how much pressure was built up inside of her body, if she would just give in, it felt like she would need to cum…

…but she’d fallen for that before.

Even hazy and uncertain, Figura knew she couldn’t do that right now—much less in public. She wasn’t even sure if the shame of getting caught would be enough to get her to stop, or if she’d be hauled away for public indecency while still desperately trying to make herself cum.

The latter was too easy to imagine, and that was enough to help Figura fight past her arousal. It was still there inside of her, begging, pleading, making her shudder from head to toe, but she was forcing it down. She was forcing herself to stay in control.

F-fuck…! Fuck you, Evanthe…! Fuck you, Sedam…! Figura whimpered, brushing her hand at some of her black hair stuck to her own forehead with a layer of dried sweat. Keep it together, Figura! You need to hold on to Figura. You can’t give that up. You need to stay stubborn, not lose yourself to this…! How did… What could have happened…? My memories of last night feel so…

Figura groaned as her head throbbed again. She remembered getting ready to go… somewhere. It had been a very important decision. Someone was at risk.

Denise…? No… No I was avoiding her, I…

Oh fuck.

Figura couldn’t remember anything that happened after she left her apartment, but she could remember where she was headed—and why. Everything after that was obscured by a chemical haze that refused to reveal even the faintest details.

Figura’s mouth was filled with all sorts of tastes. Some of it tasted faintly of cheap booze. Some of it, Figura would have preferred not to consider, but she couldn’t ignore the voice in her mind saying it was the taste of girl.

Drugged. I was drugged. I’m probably never going to remember what happened last night… Shit…! Shakily rising to her feet, Figura rested her head against the opposite wall, struggling to keep her footing as her arousal threatened to bring her back down to her knees. I didn’t get the money back. I didn’t find the women responsible. Instead… Instead they did something to me again, something… more… nnn…

I can’t… I can’t be a hero about this. Trying to pay them didn’t work… What am I supposed to do?!

Figura’s pussy offered a suggestion that made her thighs shudder and her knees nearly give out beneath her. She whined, shaking her head as if to shake the thought away, only barely managing to stay standing.

Not that! I am not going to masturbate… Not here…! Even if I did… It wouldn’t make a difference…

She tried to think about the young woman, the daughter of one of Denise’s friends, who was counting on Figura to get her back to safety. None of what happened was the kidnapped woman’s fault, but she was still at the mercy of criminals who could do these kinds of things to a superheroine. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what they would do to a defenseless young woman with enough time.

Whimpering, Figura stumbled out of the alleyway and down the street. It was midmorning—a time of day that was beginning to feel foreign to her. Figura had always been an identity she’d largely used at night, but it was starting to feel like her only identity. She tried to remember the last time she’d done something as Fiona, but it felt so difficult.

It didn’t take long for her to stop trying.

Once she reached a signpost, Figura regained a vague sense of where she was, even if she couldn’t remember if she’d ever been there before. She took a wrong turn once or twice, but eventually managed to find her way home.

The hard part was the looks she got from everyone on her way. She looked like a wreck, and she could see it reflected in everyone’s eyes. With the strain on her body and mind, Figura couldn’t even exert the effort to make herself look composed. Focusing on that felt like it would run the risk of unleashing her own barely contained lust.

Climbing her way up to her apartment was much more difficult than usual, but thankfully, it didn’t feel like anyone was watching her. It was a small consolation, but she doubted anyone would want to watch her too closely, and if they did, they might be more likely to assume she was breaking in rather than the woman who should be crawling into that window.

Closing it behind herself was a relief.

Tugging her leotard out of the way so she could thrust her fingers deep between her thighs was not.

“N-nooo… I can’t…! I… I… ohhh…” She was already so wet, her body so ready to accept her fingers, and touching herself made that feeling so much better and so much worse. Figura couldn’t even make it to her bed, collapsing just beside it, face-down and with her ass in the air. “Need to stop… I know I won’t cum… I know it… Fuck…!”

Trying to reason with herself didn’t matter. Her room was still filled with the loud, slick, wet sounds of her pussy greedily latching to her fingers as they moved quicker and quicker. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her whole body shook.

I’m… so… fucked… so… Ohhhh…!

Every time her orgasm felt a little bit closer, that feeling stretched further away, but the burning need in her body soared higher. She would rub harder, and only need more and more sensation every time.

Drool poured out of her mouth as she shook and whined, lost in her masturbatory revelry.

It almost felt like waking up again when she finally regained some level of conscious control over her actions. The time spent furiously stroking herself wasn’t a blank, but she couldn’t remember actually thinking anything. She’d been too consumed with her own pleasure and her desperate need to fall over that edge.

Once again, she was left unsatisfied and craving. Her thighs were still shaking, her pussy still clenching, but her body was too tired to continue.

She hadn’t been set free by her force of will.

She was only able to think again because even her desperate pussy couldn’t take any more.

Figura whimpered, pulling her hand free from between her thighs to crawl towards her bed. Her legs were too wobbly to support her weight on their own, and she only made her way to the top by dragging herself along.

She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Sleep had granted Figura one small mercy. If she’d had any dreams, they had all faded by the time she awoken, lost as completely as her memories of the preceding night. Unfortunately, her rest hadn’t done anything about the taste in her mouth, or her larger situation.

After failing twice at exchanging the money for the hostage, I tried to take things into my own hands…

Figura shuddered, her hands starting to roam up along her curves. When they reached her breasts, they squeezed, and Figura wasn’t sure how much of that was her own idea. Her breasts felt nice in her hands, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who thought about things she didn’t like while squeezing her own chest.

She hadn’t used to be, anyway. Now? After er run-ins with Evanthe and Sedam, that felt less certain. Her identity felt less familiar.

Her sense of self felt less reliable.

At least I haven’t given up…! Figura forced herself to laugh. She was still wearing her mask and her leotard, even if the latter wasn’t covering her sex at all right now. They used me, they had their fun, but… I snapped back into place. They made me whatever they wanted, but my mind didn’t snap, or shatter, or break. I might not be able to resist them, but I… I haven’t lost Figura.

But I’m starting to worry about Fiona.

Groaning, she forced herself to sit up.

“First things first…” She coughed. Her attempt at speaking made Figura realize her throat was bone dry. She didn’t want to think about that at all.

A drink. That should help me get this taste out of my mouth… food…? A shower… I need… I need to call Denise… I’ll do whatever I need to do to fix this… Maybe she can help… fix me…? Maybe she knows someone…?

This time, when she stood up, her legs felt far more solid. It was easy enough to make her way to her kitchen and pour herself a glass of water. Entirely too much of the taste lingered, but the water still made her feel so much better, so much more human than she had before.

“I’ll shower, and then… then I’ll call Denise. I need to be at my best to face her, to… to confess…” Figura’s voice trailed off as she finished the glass, and made her way to the shower.

After turning the knobs to start the flow of water, she stripped out of her leotard and glanced towards the mirror with a sigh. She didn’t look gaunt or sleep deprived. Nothing about what she saw was unpleasant—nothing besides her crushed spirits.

Helping a kidnapped woman was supposed to be raising her morale, but instead, it was making her feel more and more powerless.

Figura gasped as something in the mirror changed.

Before she could realize what was happening it was already far too late. Her brown eyes had shifted to a beautiful, familiar hazel. The voice that filled the room was Figura’s. The words had been planted there by someone else.

“Can’t resist… your hypnosis…” Figura moaned, her body quivering as she was held captive to a reflection that no longer belonged entirely to her. “Can’t… resist… Sedam’s… hypnosis…!”

The pleasure of surrendering her will to the buried compulsions was as intense as an orgasm, but without any of the release.

Figura chanted until the mirror fogged too much for her to see her own eyes.

In the shower, Figura masturbated until she couldn’t anymore, and then washed herself in the cold water while she made a futile effort to hold back her tears over being so powerless to resist the compulsion.

Calling Denise hadn’t gone well.

She hadn’t even been allowed to talk to Denise herself. The number that usually gave Figura a direct line had been rerouted. She’d been forced to talk to the woman’s secretary, who insisted Denise wanted to see Figura…

…in person.

Getting the stains out of her leotard had taken entirely too long. The walk to Denise’s office felt so much longer. Every step was full of a crushing sense of dread.

I’m fucked. The hostage is fucked. How could I be so stupid?!

Her own mind taunted her with the possibility that the hostage was dead, that Denise would never want to talk to her again or support charitable causes in Sunford. Logically, she knew that was a stretch, but those imaginings were still so much better than the others her mind offered up.

Denise, pinning Figura down to her desk and fucking her raw. Denise, commanding Figura to crawl under her desk and repay the money she’d lost with her tongue.

Denise, looking into her eyes and telling Figura she was too much of a slut to be a heroine.

Those possibilities were worse because, even with how horrible they were, Figura couldn’t shake the feelings of arousal. She couldn’t stop wanting one of those fantasies to happen instead of something more down to earth. It was unlikely that Denise would be able to make Figura cum, even if she wanted to… but her body had recovered just enough to want to.

She tried to walk without focusing on the scissoring of her own thighs, or how easy it would be to expand her breasts and openly knead herself on the way.

When she reached Beltran Connections, she found Denise already waiting for her.

“Please, take a seat.” Her voice was tense, and her serious gaze told Figura everything that she needed to know. The heroine sat, and the businesswoman frowned. “Tell me what happened. I want to know why I received a call this morning that a woman I’ve been known to finance took matters into her own hands after I explicitly told her not to? Why you didn’t call me yesterday? Tell me everything.”

Figura took a deep breath, and slumped lower into the chair. “I didn’t call you because… they sent a hypnotist.”

Denise raised an eyebrow.

“A hypnotist?”

“A hypnotist. Sedam. She…” Figura quivered. Just saying the name had her nipples turning into bullets under her leotard, and not because of her shapeshifting powers. “She hypnotized me. She took the money, so I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t call you without trying to fix this! I had to… I had to do something! I’m a heroine, and she… and after Evanthe… After… I…

“Please, I’ll do anything I can! Just tell me what I need to do!” Her face fell into her hands, and Figura shook as she choked back sobs. “I don’t even know what happened when I… when I tried to find… It’s just a blank. They did something to me. Again…. But I can’t let that young woman suffer…! I can’t just abandon her, but I… I don’t know what to do!” She lifted her head and stared desperately into Denise’s eyes. “I know you have no reason to deal with me anymore, but… please…

“Don’t… Don’t give up on her!”

Silence hung in the air as Denise tented her fingers. The rest of Figura’s life felt like it hung in the balance of what the businesswoman would say next. Time slowed to a crawl.

When she finally spoke, her tone was firm and professional. None of the warmth Denise usually shared was present at all. “I’ve invested a lot of my personal money into this endeavor, Figura. I’ve put myself on the line. If you want to do this again, to try one last time to get her back, you’ll need to do it instead.”

“Y-yes, please, anything…! I would spend the money myself, but I don’t… I don’t have that kind of money!”

Denise set down a small stack of papers on her desk, and then pushed it towards Figura. A quick glance made it very clear what they were.

A contract.

A loan.

“If you sign this, then I can give you the money to make one last attempt at an exchange.” Denise held a pen out towards Figura, but when the heroine quickly reached for it, Denise pulled it back. “This isn’t a simple little contract. This is a lot of money. Do you understand how long it will take you to pay this back?”

“Yes.” Figura sniffled, rubbing under one of her eyes with the back of her hand. “I do. But I don’t care. She shouldn’t suffer because of me.”

Denise handed Figura the pen.

Without even reading it, Figura signed page after page, initialing every spot Denise indicated. Not only did she not read the contract, she actively avoided looking too closely at any of its clauses. No matter what it said, she knew that she’d be signing it anyway. It was the only way to redeem herself.

I took this job with Denise to do some good, but I was constantly hoping for glory. When I took that risk, going after them alone, I put a woman’s life at risk…

Whatever the price is, I need to pay it.

When the last signature was finished, Denise smiled and reached down under her desk for another briefcase. “I knew I could count on you, Figura. Let me tell you where they want to meet you this time…”