“I appreciate the thought, Vibra, but I need to be very sensitive about my hairbrushes,” Sapphox says, gazing with trepidation at the carved mahogany brush in my hands. Her corona of flame-colored hair twitches nervously around her, as if it senses the trap I have lain for my team mate. “You understand.”

I put on my most sympathetic expression. “I do understand. I’ve been thinking about the secret you shared with me about your hair. How sensitive it can be. How much you need to focus to keep the rush of sensation from every inch of your hair from overwhelming you. It must be exhausting.” It had taken several nights of girl talk and two bottles of wine to draw that secret out of Sapphox. At the time, I’d sworn to her, and to myself, that I would keep her confidence, but Wizardess’s magical hold over me had shattered my promise. Just last night, I’d whispered the secret to the supervillainess while helplessly finger-fucking her to orgasm with my super-fast digits.

“It can be taxing from time to time,” Sapphox says with a shy smile. “But I manage.”

“This hairbrush is unique, Sapphox. It was carved from the same tree I was standing under when I got my super-speed. I can use my powers to vibrate it so fast that it will be mostly out of phase with the rest of the world. It will feel as if your hair is being brushed by an angel’s kiss.” The story is a load of hooey, of course. Wizardess gave me the brush because she carved some sort of magical runes into the wood. The part about phasing the brush is real enough, but I could do that with anything. Wizardess ordered me to tell Sapphox that I have a special connection with the brush so that she won’t ask me to use one of her own hi-tech brushes.

Sapphox searches my face, checking to see if I believe what I’m telling her. No matter how much I wish she would sense my deception, Wizardess’s magic forces me to smile reassuringly. I even give a little nod.

“I guess we can try it, Vibra,” Sapphox says. No matter how much I hate betraying my friend, I cannot deny the warmth growing between my thighs as she falls for my ploy … I mean Wizardess’s ploy.

A single lock of Sapphox’s hair tentatively strokes my hand. As gently as petting a skittish kitten, I vibrate the hairbrush partially out-of-phase and gently run it down the sunset-colored strands. “How’s that, Sapphox?”

She gasps, a blush rising in her pale cheeks. “That feels … um, it feels really good.”

Wizardess’s sorcery must already be working on her. I had hoped she would be protective enough of her hair to swat the brush out of my hands. I want to hurl the cursed thing out the window. Instead, I hold it up and say, “May I keep going?”

“Um, okay … if you want to,” Sapphox replies, a slight hitch in her voice.

Slowly, thoroughly, I begin to brush Sapphox’s hair. Before long, her eyes roll back with the pleasure of being groomed. With each pass of the brush, her normally-undulating mane becomes more still, calm, controlled. She moans a bit as each lock of hair is tamed by the magical pleasure.

However, since Sapphox’s hair is nearly ten feet long from her scalp, handling it once it’s been smoothed is a challenge. “Let’s lay you down,” I say and she dreamily agrees. Without opening her eyes, she lets me lead her to her bed and lay her down on her belly.

With Sapphox helpless before me, I can finish Wizardess’s work. I pull the brush through her hair more firmly, and she moans. With my super-speed, I see any little twitch in her tresses and smooth it out before it rouses nearby strands. With every stroke, her breathing shifts into a more sexual rhythm. By the time her hair lays perfectly still across her body, like a blanket of scarlet silk, Sapphox is moaning with every breath. The sound of her need stirs my own heat. My thighs are slick.

From the back of the hairbrush, I pull a silver disc smaller than a dime. Engraved with runes, it has seven holes in it. The magic in this disc can enslave my friend to Wizardess as deeply as I am. I want nothing more than to rub it between my fingers at super-speed until it melts down into silver slag.

The magic won’t allow that, of course. Instead, I brush the hair away from her ear and whisper, “I know how good you feel, Sapphox. I know you want relief. I know you want release. I can help you. Just do what I say, okay?”

“Yes. Please, Vibra. Please.” Sapphox moans desperately. The hairbrush’s magic has already stoked her desire to a fever pitch, even as it’s left her unable to move.

Parting her mane at the nape of her neck, I find a single strand of crimson hair close to her scalp. Guiding the tip of it to the first hole in the disc, I whisper the words Wizardess gave me, “Your release is at the end of the maze, Sapphox. You can feel your way through it. Circle the maze seven times and you will be released.”

“Uh-huh,” she whines, her voice strangled with need. I watch the little hair thread in and out of the seven holes, completing the arcane rune that will bind her soul to Wizardess. I can do nothing but stare and pant and hate how hot this is making me.

As her hair threads through each hole, her moans get deeper and louder. The hair winds through the seventh hole for the seventh time. Sapphox screams in climax, her body quivering beneath its blanket of hair. “I … serve … Wizardess,” she cries out as she cums.

Those words resound within me like a bell. “I serve Wizardess!” I shout and cum, my body thrashing at super sonic speed. I collapse next to Sapphox, both of us riding our climaxes to submission.

Sometime later, I feel commanding fingers running through my hair. Wizardess’s voice whispers in my ear. “Good girl, Vivvy. You did very well enslaving your friend for me. I told you that secrets were going to be so much fun.”

To Be Continued …