“Halt, evil-doer!”

 

The slender man looked up as Giga Girl strode confidently into the main chamber of his hideout. In her shiny purple leotard, elbow-length gloves and black thigh-boots, the dark-haired heroine was an imposing sight. As one of the city’s foremost heroines, she was used to criminals cowering, or at the least looking alarmed. The fact that this man, after the initial surprise of her entrance, didn’t look in the least bit intimidated, gave her some slight pause.

 

“Really?” he said. “You really said ‘Halt evildoer’? Who even uses the word ‘evil-doer’?”

 

Giga Girl glared at him. “Shut up, perp! I’m here to shut down your drug-running… operation…” She trailed off as she looked around, suddenly aware that the large room was mostly empty. What looked like a miniature film set was rigged up at one end of the room, with a camera and lights set up pointing at what appeared to be a throne. But there was no sign whatsoever of any kind of drugs factory.

 

She hesitated. Had she got the wrong address? Was this about to be seriously embarrassing? But no, there was something about this guy. He was standing there watching, a half-smile on his face like he’d been expecting her. Wait… he’d been expecting her…

 

“Don’t worry, you’re not in the wrong place,” he said, as though reading her mind. “But I’m afraid you’ve been misled. Or, rather, should I say… manipulated? I am the Manipulator.”

 

Giga Girl snorted. “That’s your villain name? ‘The Manipulator’? I’m clearly not the only one with corny dialogue.”

 

His smile widened. “Well, that’s fair, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. Don’t worry about remembering it. You’ll be calling me ‘Master,’ just like the person who tipped you off to this address.”

 

Giga Girl’s eyes widened. Lucy Long, the ace reporter, was a trusted ally, and when she’d called and told Giga Girl about the drug factory, the superheroine set off without a second thought.

 

“That’s right,” the Manipulator smiled. “I sought out Miss Long, and told her I had a scoop for her. After a brief conversation, she was more than willing to do anything I wanted, including betray you. Unfortunately, you’ve been wise enough not to tell even her who you really are, hence the little charade.”

 

The dark-haired heroine narrowed her eyes. “So, what, you’re some kind of mind controller?” If he was, this could be dicey. In a physical confrontation, she was a match for almost anyone, but mind controllers were a whole different thing. She’d need to withdraw and fetch back-up. First though, she’d try and get more information out of this ‘Manipulator’ guy.

 

He was tapping his lips thoughtfully. “A mind controller? Not exactly, no. It would be more accurate to call me an emotion controller. Or maybe a state-of-mind controller, if that’s not too much of a mouthful? I can’t control your thoughts, but I can make you experience feelings, emotions, and sensations. I make you utterly terrified, deliriously happy, or suicidally depressed.”

 

“So, what’s your deal? Did you get bitten by a radioactive emoji?”

 

“Hah! No.” He paused. “You know, I actually have no idea how it works. Some kind of biokinesis? I can’t control people’s thoughts, but I can direct them, channel them using the right emotional cues. I suppose the end result is the same. But I’ve never tried to find out exactly how it works. After all, if I find out, someone else could too and find some way to counter it, and we don’t want that now, do we?”

 

“What’s the plan, make me fall in love with you or something?” Her tone was defiant, but Giga Girl was getting seriously worried. The idea of this guy being able to turn her into a simpering love-slave was horrifying beyond words.

 

“It’s not that simple, sadly. Love, in addition to being many splendored, is also very tricky. It’s a funny emotion, fickle, prone to sudden reverses and changes. Love can all too easily fade or suddenly change to hatred. When my powers first developed, I was constantly trying to make people fall in love with me. It got very messy indeed…” He shuddered at some memory. “Besides, there are other, related sensations that are easier to control and work far better.”

 

"Right..." She glanced around, looking for anything else that might be useful later. "So, what's with the throne and the cameras?"

 

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. Heh, silly really, but I was just getting it set up ready for my inevitable victory speech. 'People of the city, I am your new ruler, blah blah blah'." He paused. "In fact, it will be rather delicious having you kneeling at my feet while I deliver it." He grinned. "Or maybe you can deliver it for me. That would be even better!"

 

Giga Girl narrowed her eyes again, tensing. That was enough information. Time to get out of here and go talk to the Foundation. They’d know what to do about this creep.

 

Some slight movement must have given him a cue, because he suddenly flexed his fingers; just a tiny, circular gesture. Giga Girl braced herself for whatever emotional attack was coming, but nothing happened. It hadn’t worked! Maybe she was immune? Not time to get cocky though, and she leaped back towards the door, covering fifteen yards in a single bound.

 

And stumbled to a halt. The door was still open behind her, and she was looking out into the darkened parking lot outside, but her heart was pounding, her body was shaking and her breath came raggedly. She abruptly realised that she was TERRIFIED of going outside. She staggered away from the door, struggling to control her breathing.

 

“What the hell have you done to me!”

 

The Manipulator smirked. “Just a little dose of crippling agoraphobia to keep you here for a moment while I work my magic on you.”

 

“Fuck that!” Giga Girl didn’t usually swear, but she was seriously rattled. Her first instinct was to leap at him, pound him with her fists until he reversed whatever mind-fuckery he’d done to her. She controlled her impulse though, trying to think tactically. That was what the others always said; make a plan, stick to it.

 

She stepped further from the door, almost immediately relaxing as she moved away from that horrible, terrible open space that lay beyond.

 

He was watching her carefully, his hand held by his side, ready to do… something. “Good. Remain calm, and we can talk this out.”

 

“No way, creep!” she spat. “I’m going to figure a way out of this, and then you’re going to be in a world of pain.”

 

He adopted a hurt look. “Really, and we were getting on so well. I admit that first impressions could have been better. I mean, you didn’t even knock before you came barging in here. Rude!”

 

Giga Girl suddenly felt a pang of regret. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that I guess, but I thought the place was full of criminals.”

 

He smiled again. “No, just me. I forgive you though. After all, I suppose I gave you the false information.”

 

She beamed as a wave of gratitude washed through her. He had forgiven her, and they could start afresh! This time though, her brain caught up with her eyes. She'd seen a little twitch of his hand.

 

“You bastard!” she snarled. “You’re doing this to me!”

 

“Of course I am. I’m sure you don’t really mind though. After all, all of this is actually kind of a turn on, isn’t it?” His fingers flexed.

 

Giga Girl blinked as a tiny shiver went through her. A little thrill of arousal. “Stop it!”

 

“Stop it?” he repeated. “Are you sure?” He moved his hand again and another tingle rippled through her, making her shudder, and she couldn’t stop a little gasp.

 

“Uhhh… Stop it you disgusting freak! Is this how you get your kicks, pervert? Torturing people?”

 

“Torture? How is this torture?”

 

She wasn’t going to give him another chance, and was already leaping forwards. Not quick enough though, as another wave of pleasure, of arousal, of sourceless DESIRE washed through her. Giga Girl gasped and stumbled. She was suddenly feeling very hot and really, REALLY horny.

 

“Wh-why are you doing this?” she gasped as another shiver of arousal rushed through her.

 

His grin widened. “It’s a delightful improvement on classical conditioning. You know, the whole 'making dogs associate bells with food' sort of thing. Now, normally, conditioning can take weeks, but I’m cutting out the middleman. I don’t need to build up associations with other sensations, I can just make you feel whatever I want whenever I want to. This will only take minutes, and by the time I’m done you will be utterly addicted to me.”

 

“Ungh! NO! Stop it.” She gasped, her breathing getting heavy. He waved his hand again, a larger motion than before, and the feeling of arousal doubled, no, tripled! She shuddered, shaking with need.

 

“Hornier and hornier. More and more aroused. More and more turned on.” With each sentence another wave of his hand, another tsunami of arousal. “You’re so horny you can barely think, barely talk, barely stand.”

 

Her trembling legs gave way and she sank to the floor, a hand involuntarily groping at her crotch as her eyes rolled back in her head, her nipples clearly visible through the tight, shiny fabric of her purple leotard. An incoherent gurgle escaped from her mouth as he waved his hand again, a wide, circular motion.

 

“I’m making you more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. You need to be fucked. You’ll do anything for it. It’s all you can think about. Your brain is shutting down and you’re thinking only with your needy… little… pussy.” He punctuated each word with a twirl of his hand, bringing another pulsing wave of lust.

 

She moaned incoherently, her body burning up, her face flushed. Thoughts of escape, of fighting, of resistance, they’d all fled her mind. There was nothing but the desperate, burning, aching NEED.

 

“Hmmm…” He tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps I could fuck you?”

 

Her head had fallen forward, but now snapped up to stare at him, eyes wide and burning with lust. “Yesss…” she whispered.

 

He cocked his head on one side. “What was that?”

 

“Yes!” she said again, louder. “Please!”

 

“Please what?”

 

Her face burned with shame as well as arousal, but she couldn’t help herself. “Please fuck me!” Abruptly she felt a spike of happiness, of relief and gratitude. Her sex-sodden brain barely registered the wave of his hand, only dimly recognising that this must be part of the conditioning he’d mentioned.

 

“Now why would I do that?” His tone was mocking, but he was looking at her with obvious desire. Giga Girl knew she was beautiful, with full breasts, rounded hips and toned legs, all well-displayed by the tight outfit and sexy thigh-high boots.

 

She shifted, still on her knees, sticking out her chest and running her hands over her breasts and down her body, looking at him with undisguised lust. She was dimly aware of what she was doing, some faint part of her horrified by the way she was acting, but it was utterly drowned out by the throbbing, pounding, white-hot NEED between her legs. She needed to be fucked, and he was the only other person here.

 

“Please sir,” she said, licking her lips, “please fuck me. I need it! Please, I need you inside me. I’ll do anything you want. I’m yours to use, just please fuck meeeee!” The last words was a whine of desperate, lusting desire, one hand rubbing at her costume between her legs, the other running through her hair.

 

“Hmmm… I like ‘sir,’ but I much prefer ‘Master.’ It sounds much better doesn’t it?”

 

Giga Girl nodded eagerly. “Yes Master, much better. Please fuck me, Master.” Another wave of his hand, and another wave of joy and happiness and relief, and she couldn’t stop herself from sighing happily.

 

“Much better. I know, why don’t you crawl here and try begging again?”

 

She immediately started crawling towards him, slow and sensuous, moving her hips. She could feel how wet she was as she crept towards him. She reached his feet and looked up at him, her eyes smouldering through her lashes. His hand circled again and another wave of happiness and gratitude made her smile widely.

 

“Please Master, please fuck me. I’ll do anything you want! My body is yours to use, just please fuck me, Master!” That tiny part of her brain was screaming in horror and rage, but there was nothing she could do to resist the aching, dripping desperation interspersed with happiness and gratitude that was overwhelming her senses.

 

“I’m definitely considering it,” he said, smiling evilly. “How about you lick my shoes, and then maybe I’ll let you have my cock?”

 

“Yes Master! Anything for your cock inside me!” She immediately bent and began licking his shoes, lapping at them desperately. As her tongue began lapping at the leather, through the humiliation she felt a throb of happiness, an additional surge of arousal. She was grovelling at a villain's feet, and all she could think about was how good it felt.

 

“Hah, look at you! Not such a tough superhero now, are you?”

 

“No Master.”

 

He tapped his lip thoughtfully again. “Definitely not a hero. There must be a word for a woman who crawls to a man the very first time she meets him, and licks his shoes to try and persuade him to fuck her. What do you think? What word best describes you now?”

 

“Unnnnh… she struggled to think through the haze of arousal and lust. “A…a slut. I… I’m a slut… UNGH!” She threw her head back again as an almost orgasmic wave of pleasure and bliss electrified her entire body. It only lasted a second, but she knew she’d do almost anything to feel that way again, and the realisation terrified and exhilarated her in equal measure.

 

“That’s right,” he purred. “You’re just my boot-licking little slut!”

 

She looked up briefly. “Yes Master, I’m your slut.” As she said it, she knew it was true. She was begging this villain to fuck her, humiliating herself for a chance to have his cock inside her needy little slit, and as she thought it, she was filled with another blast of pleasure and happiness. Her lust-fogged brain no longer even registered the twitch of his hand as the realisation of how good it felt to be a slut flooded through her.

 

She had lost and she knew it, but she no longer cared. The Manipulator had beaten her and all she felt was gratitude to him, happiness and horniness rushing through her in accompaniment to the taste of shoe-leather in her mouth.

 

“Well, I’m convinced,” he smirked. “Tear off that silly costume then, Slave.” At the last word there was an additional spike of arousal so powerful it made her squeal. She reached up, took her costume, and with both hands ripped away the shiny purple leotard, her strength making it an easy task.

 

“Hmmm, keep the gloves and boots, I rather like them.”

 

“Yes Master! Thank you, Master!” A little spike of happiness and arousal each time she said the word, and she could no longer tell if he was still doing it, or if her own brain had already indelibly linked the two.

 

He turned and strolled across to the little film set. He sat down on the throne-like chair and beckoned.

 

“Here, Slave.”

 

She stood and began walking slowly towards him. Her aching need demanded that she rush at him and simply impale herself, but she retained enough sense to know that she had to please him or he might stop her.

 

Her boot heels clicked seductively on the floor as she stalked towards him, her hips swaying and the air cool on her naked breasts and wet pussy. She ran one gloved hand down her side and over her hip, while the other raked through her hair.

 

She stopped in front of him, posing erotically. He stared at her, eyes wide, a slight smile on his face. “You really are stunning,” he said, and another twitch of his hand gave her a little spike of joy and gratitude at the praise. “But I think your outfit needs just one more thing.” He picked something up from a small table by the throne. She looked and saw a leather collar, with small silver studs. She swallowed, aware of what it was and what it meant, but far beyond any ability to resist.

 

“Kneel, Slave.”

 

She knelt. The idea of not kneeling didn’t even enter her mind. She was too horny and too lust-addled and simply too defeated to do anything else. And if she was honest, she couldn’t even tell if she would have still wanted to resist even if she could.

 

He leaned forwards and deftly buckled it round her neck, the cold leather warming up rapidly against her feverish skin. As he sat back, she reached up to touch it, and as she did, he flexed his hand and a bolt of electric pleasure and happiness and horniness and gratitude made her yelp.

 

“Much better,” he said. “Now you look exactly like the submissive little slave-girl you are.”

 

She nodded her agreement, the collar feeling strange and sexy and humiliating and so very hot. “Yes Master,” she said softly, experiencing that little throb in her brain and her clit again as she used the title. “Please will you fuck me now? Please?”

 

“How could I say no to such a polite request? Your manners are already so much better than when you entered.”

 

He stood, turned away from her, and casually stripped off his own clothes, revealing a body that was lean, but toned and athletic. He turned back and she could see he was already rock hard. She couldn’t suppress a moan of desire. “Please may this little slut pleasure you, Master?” she purred huskily.

 

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning widely as he sat back down. “Yes, you may.” She didn’t need another invitation, stepping forward, straddling him, and lowering herself onto the hard cock that she so desperately needed. As she did so she felt his arm move slightly and suddenly experienced another blast, a lightning-bolt of pure, unadulterated bliss and pleasure and happiness and gratitude. Not love, but something far more powerful, far more addictive, far more permanent than love. The feelings she’d experienced before when she called him Master or licked his shoes were little sparks compared to the Sun.

 

She moaned and pulled him into a passionate, adoring, grateful kiss, and he moaned in turn as she ground against his cock, the two of them moving against each other, his hands now fully occupied with her breasts, her ass, her hair. He kissed her neck above her new collar, and planted kisses along her shoulder. She moaned as he explored every part of her, her entire body on fire, her pussy a supernova of heat and ecstasy that burnt away any last possible vestiges of resistance, or even the desire to resist. She grabbed his hair, pulling his head back up to kiss him hard, her tongue pushing insistently into his mouth. He let out a grunt of pleased surprise that ended as a growl as he pressed her body against his.

 

He was thrusting up into her, his rhythm building, getting faster and faster, his breath coming in short gasps. She moaned and pushed down on him, clenching her slit around his shaft. He suddenly growled, deep in his throat, freezing for a second, his whole body trembling before thrusting up hard into her, and as he came his hand twitched behind her, and the orgasm that thundered through Giga Girl blasted away all thought and sensation.

 

She wasn’t sure if she’d actually blacked out, but as she opened her eyes, her breath coming in gasps, still straddling his now softening manhood, her head span and stars danced in her vision.

 

“Good girl,” he said, breathing heavily, and she grinned as she felt a flush of pleasure at the words, and an eagerness to hear them again.

 

“Thank you, Master.” She gave little purr of pleasure at using his title. And then she realised that he hadn’t so much as twitched his fingers.

 

“Well, we’ve got work to do. This city won’t conquer itself, and there are plenty more people to reduce to my simpering slaves. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

“Yes Master!” And to her surprise, she realised it really did.