The Henchwoman

Part 2: Swayer

by me_chan

Tags: #cw:noncon #comic_book #dom:female #sub:female

Four Years Ago

An unconscious Sibyl felt her limp body being carried somewhere. The frail, young woman with her power type usually wasn't meant for the field, but desperate measures called for her presence on-site, to help and predict enemy movements as accurately as possible. Unfortunately, she was still deep into her training, and couldn't foresee the surprise attack, or a tranquilizer dart to the neck, immediately taking her out of the mission.

Despite the chemicals shutting down most of her awareness, the psychic awareness faintly remained, informing her of being roughly carried, suggesting that she wasn't being carried by her comrades, but by someone who didn't give much consideration to kid-gloves. The where was unknown, but logic dictated it was somewhere where information could be extracted from her, based on what she knew of her opposition.

Sibyl's instincts were proven right, feeling being sat in a comfortable chair, a soft material like suede or velvet against her skin, the kind of furnishings her group never tried budgeting for. She felt a touch to her face, not gloved and callous like whomever handled her before, but a very soft, almost caring touch, nostrils teased by an expensive fragrance. Sibyl instinctively yet weakly reached out to the mind of that person, feeling their presence, their intent, their essence; confirmation of dealing with another hierarch made her shift worryingly in the chair. Barely enough energy around the eyelids to open them, but she could feel her vaguely. She sensed wanting, assurance, and no intention of using coarse, harmful means to get it. The assurance mixed with something that seemed...persuasive, like her touch, inspiring curiosity in how she might be persuaded.

Sibyl was weak enough to have a hard time fighting the touch wrapping around her jaw, slowly guiding it forward, and a harder time fighting the reaction of elation to that touch. The drug started to wear off nearly the same time that a soft whisper filled her ears.

"Wake up now. Wake for me, sweetie. Wake up. It's easy to do for me. You've rested so well already, you can open those eyes for me. Effortless, so easy, to open those eyes, to listen to me. You feel like you want to, you feel like you must, you feel like you will, for me."

That voice struck something in her, thoroughly convinced of the possible persuasion. She shifted and made a happy, sleepy noise, her body still at odds with her psychic awareness. But the connection to full awareness grew at the same pace that her eyelids wanted to open for that voice, that touch, that practically endearing regard. The voice sweetly droned on, coaxing her eyelids, until light came into focus, faint, welcoming, green lit.

Even before the lids could fully open, she was already captured by Dr. Sway's green voids she called eyes; they swallowed her eyes like the expanse of a void, yet they were far from hollow. In an instant, curiosity struck her with their vibrancy, their inviting force pulling her in in tandem with the wanton need to plunge and explore further. They looked like the mythical siren might sing, eroding all else, including memories or accounts of hearing about the enemy having some kind of persuader at their disposal. It sounded to Sibyl like they had a psychic on their side, which made sense as no one had seen or could confirm her existence before that failed mission, or so she thought; Sway, like Sibyl, was an asset better served off the field, to be used for counter-intelligence and to subvert physical encounters. Every far-fetched story came true in the smiling gaze of green.

"Hello, sweetie. Nice to meet you. Nice to see what cute eyes you have, so wide, so pretty, so glassy, starring int-"

Sway hesitated mid-sentence feeling something reach out into her, penetrating the black of her pupils and somewhere past the depths even she wasn't aware of. The hypnotherapist nearly jolted back as she felt that power somehow filling a crevice between her powers and her mental structure. Outwardly, both remained silent as their stare continued. Inwardly, both hierarchs bore witness to the same scene - Sibyl floating on a narrow stream of color, shades of bright turquoise, rich purples, cotton pinks, sea greens, she could feel each one, sweeping away any cares she had before, unable to focus on just one because the next layered upon the last consistently, incrementally deepening what was with more. Floating along this river, the colors of the world around her resembled what she floated along, the hills of the meadow, the trees, the birds, the sky. The psychic deeply identified with this place, her inner elysium, her hidden sanctuary, where she could meditate and center herself whenever needed.

Normally, it looked no different from a real world meadow with all the appropriate colors. Under Sway's flummoxing power, hypnotic colors blended and shaded everything, fascinating her to no end. The only unique factor was the color of the sun, a powerfully-hypnotic green, eliciting the exact opposite reaction of what every child is told to do in regards to the sun. She had to look at the green sun, enjoying the freedom to do so. And to her delight, the more she stared the more the sun drew closer and closer, as if focused on her.

Sway pulled away from the dream like she'd just broken a fever. The henchmen that brought Sibyl to her office tried to pull the doctor away, thinking she was under assault. It took deep, prolonged glances at each of them to stop and have them stand at attention, merely awaiting her next command. She got herself under control as she shook herself free of the mental tendrils Sibyl almost established. But she wondered what she just witnessed in her mind. The heroine was clearly entranced and the sun was clearly her eyes, but her trance was infused in her mind deeper than she ever seen, deeper than she ever bothered trying to program someone. The mysterious colors helped, she knew for sure, and Sway was willing to bet they had nothing to do with Sibyl, given the heroine's overwhelmed reaction.

She furiously scribbled notes down while keeping a careful eye on her younger captive, who after a few minutes began moving again, some part of her that tried awakening from the hypnotic dream. Grabbing one of the guard's tranq gun from his holster, she kept it in hand while preparing to use her eyes again. As Sibyl reorientated herself to the room, she found those eyes again and was totally sedated, if not a little deeper than before.

Sway spent more time than ever before to keep her sedated and docile, extracting the specific information before having her sent back to her people. Wouldn't do to have every hero banging down her door to come to the rescue of their asset, or to dispose of her as one of her employers would ask for; not that she was heartless, but it made good business sense for both sides to have an asset, keeping her own value in-tact. And normally it would've behooved her to sever the connection between her mind and her psychic powers, but curiosity had gotten the better of her as she brandished her gaze more intensely, and investigated that strange dream.

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