“Your hands should be registered as lethal weapons,” said Penelope Payes, genius, billionaire, and secretly the superheroine Platinum Panther. The massage was making her entire body feel divine.
“Thanks, Ms. Payes. I’m just a killer … of tension,” the masseuse replied.
“Mmmm. I don’t normally like new people touching me,” Penelope muttered as her muscles seemed to melt, and yet her skin became aroused at the same time. “But I want to get to know your hands much better,”
“I’m sure we can arrange that,” the masseuse said as he pushed with his thumb just to the right of the superheroine’s spine. Penelope felt something shift inside her. She had never had an out-of-body experience before, but this must be what it felt like. It was like floating on a cloud of pleasure.
The masseuse felt the last of the tension go out of her. He grinned wickedly. “I’ve turned off your higher brain functions. Your willpower. Your judgment. Your short-term memory. Even that endless chatter you spout. All of them have been switched off. The brain is just one big nerve for the Nervewracker to control.”
Somewhere, Penelope remembered that the Nervewracker was a villain. Somewhere, she knew she was supposed to stop him, was supposed to fight.
But that was in the fog that remained of her mind. Her flesh only knew one thing: Obeying Nervewracker felt good. Too good to resist.
—
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