Flechette always hit her target.

Bow, throwing star, crossbow, hurled dagger, gun. If it could be aimed, Flechette could fire it with stunning accuracy. From her days as a Federal agent to her time as a member of the Libido League, Flechette’s keen attention and matchless precision helped her always find her mark.

Which is why The Dominator chose Flechette as his first target in bringing down the Libido League. Subliminal messages took time to work. Thousands of repetitions were needed to make the smallest changes in a person’s thoughts.

Unless that person were unusually skilled at paying attention, of course.

Staging a crime to lure the heroine to an abandoned warehouse was child’s play. A maze of monitors and a sea of speakers greeted the archer as she made her way through the warehouse.

By the time Flechette was halfway through, her breath was coming in short pants, her hips were tracing little circles, rubbing up against packing crates.

By the time she had reached the warehouse’s far side, Flechette had freed herself of her clothing. She moaned aloud with pleasure and need.

Kicking down the door of the office, Flechette found what she was looking for: The Dominator, nude, his cock standing proudly erect. I need sex was all she could think. She was bouncing on his lap in moments, striving to caress the exact spots of maximum ecstasy with every thrust.

Flechette always hit her target.

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