Brain Bandit Bends Heroine to Bimbo

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as she spied the museum guards loading crates into the unmarked van. To the untrained eye little would seem amiss, just museum employees going about their day job, if it weren't for the fact that it was 3AM on a Sunday morning in February. Natasha suppressed an involuntary shiver, partly from the flood of adrenaline that came from crime fighting, partly from the biting winter air that once again called into question the practicality of her crime fighting outfit.

The biting chill snaked its way up her stocking clad legs and tickled the bare skin of her thighs, her skirt offering no protection in terms of warmth, even her chest felt numb against the relentless cold, despite her impossible strength and nigh on invulnerability. She felt the cold as keenly as she had in the days before her body had blossomed into the femme fatale crime fighter that now stood hidden around the corner from suspected criminal activity. She exhaled a a steady cloud of stream and crouched low, moving from the cover of one parked car to another as she closed across the street on the museums rear loading door, effortlessly evading the plodding employees as they loaded more boxes into the unmarked van.

In truth the young heroine could have powered her way through the workmen with little effort, her petite 5"4 frame (5"8 in her choice of heeled boots) belied her supernatural strength, however ploughing through innocent civilians would most certainly alert the mastermind of this heist to her presence not to mention the collateral damage and broken bones such a dust up might lead to. No, stealth was the best way in this instance. Adrenaline flowed freely through her veins as she slipped silently through the darkened museum on the hunt for her prey, senses wired to the slightest of sounds, nerves stretched taught over a familiar war of emotions between the thrill of hunting and the fear of unfamiliar danger lurking around every corner.

She stopped dead and pressed her back hard against the wall as voices from the next exhibit room interrupted the museums oppressive silence.

"Now professor lets go over it one more time shall we?" the first voice, male, an English accent that Natasha placed more from movies that from first hand experience

"I will inform the curator the paintings have been taken for restoration, they will be returned by courier on Thursday, when your associates arrive with the forgeries, I will authenticate the paintings and rehang them" the second voice was feminine, local to Silver City if Natasha had to guess by the accent, her voice seemed oddly flat, calm and focused yet distant at the same time. A few moments of silence punctuated with the noise of fingertips tapping on a phone screen

She strained her hearing for any other hint of activity, but found nothing but stubborn silence for her efforts, she leaned in close and peered around the corner, trying to keep as much of her body as possible concealed around the corner. A quick glance around the room confirmed the source of the two voices, both figures face away from her hiding spot, one looked masculine, standing around 6 feet and wearing a dark coat, the other a smaller frame in a grey suit, short blonde hair illuminated by the light from a digital screen throwing both figures into sharp shadows. The man seemed to be operating a mobile device, his fingers tapping away at the screen while the woman stood immobile save for the occasional deep inhale and exhale of breath.

After a few more moments, the man spoke again "Very good Professor, according to the CCTV your employees have almost finished loading..." the man stopped mid sentence with a sharp intake of breath "Well, well, that is unfortunate". Natasha felt her stomach plummet with growing certainty as she looked up at the Museums camera's, most criminals disabled them as a matter of course before a heist, but whoever this was had been using them to monitor his own operation. She had paid so much attention to evading the human security, she hadn't considered the close circuit cameras that this villain had evidentially linked to his smartphone.

"You can come out now dear, no need to stand on ceremony, I know how you heroic types like to make an entrance" He chuckled

Shame and humiliation burned her cheeks to make a rookie move and give over the element of surprise in one fell swoop, she rolled her shoulders, preparing for a fight and gave her best sweep around the corner, raising her fists and glaring in the direction of...

The pair still had their backs to her, Natasha thought she heard the man mutter something and pass something to the woman before they both turned to face her. The light in the room was still minimal at best but the man still appeared to be wearing some kind of darkened eyewear which he adjusted as he turned with a friendly smile, he seemed fairly nonchalant for a criminal caught mid heist. The woman was a different story, despite the placid smile on her face, her skin glistened with sweat, her blouse was open to her midriff and both breasts had slipped free of her bra most alarmingly however she held a boxcutter knife in her left hand which slowly inexorably moved to her own throat.

Natasha froze, suddenly unsure of how to proceed, the woman was obviously a hostage and obviously in danger but Natasha had no way to disarm her without putting her in even more risk, her gaze shifted from hostage to kidnapper as the man's smiled widened

"That's right dear, now what will you do if the young lady doesn't comply with my orders?"

"Slice my throat, sir" the dishevelled blonde answered placidly, her voice perfectly even as the skin of her throat bobbed against the boxcutter blade, turning an angry red.

"Good girl" the man stroked his hand through the hostages ruined blonde hair affectionately, the blonde purred and shivered drawing a tiny rivulet of blood from her neck. The man turned his gaze to Natasha

"Now if you would tell me your name dear?" the blondes grip tightened on the blade.

"The Crimson Huntress" Natasha blurted out desperately, her eyes fixed on the boxcutter, willing the blade away from the hostage's neck even as the woman held the weapon in an iron grip ready to end her own life at the merest hint of Natasha's disobedience. The man laughed dryly

"The Crimson Huntress, not been doing this long I take it, tell me how many villainous plots have you foiled in your career so far? Round up if it makes you feel better" She gritted her teeth against his mockery but again had little choice but to answer his questions

"A Dozen or so, I've been doing this a few months, since I gained my power.... its my duty to help uphold the law" she may have been rambling but every second she bought gave her time to come up with a strategy.

"Well no need to worry about dear Pamela here, she's quite safe so long as you do as your told my lady Huntress, speaking of which I'd like you to put this on your forehead please" the man produced a metal tiara from inside his long coat, from the distance and the darkness Natasha could make out very little other than the glint of light reflecting off the thin metal. He dropped to a knee and slid the tiara along the floor to Natasha's feet. The blonde shifted her weight, raised her head to bare more of her slender neck and altered the angle of the blade slightly.

Helpless and out of ideas, Natasha snatched the tiara from the floor and place it cautiously on her head. She wasn't sure what she expected to happen as the cool metal headband pressed against her forehead, she certainly didn't expect the inflexible metal to tighten against her skin or the not entirely unpleasant buzzing sensation that seemed to come from inside her own head, she dropped her defensive posture and steadied her stance, unwilling to remove the device in case the hostage took it as a sign of disobedience they all stood in silence for a few seconds, the man glanced down at his phone again and his smile widened.

"Much better, now, lets start again shall we, what is your name dear?"

Her eyes unfocused for a split second, the buzzing in her head intensified and before she could repeat her chosen persona the words just slipped from her lips

"Natasha Clearwater"

Her eyes widened in panic as she told the criminal her full name as easily as she might have remarked about the weather, the man's smile flicked from friendly to predatory

"Its quite alright dear, besides, you prefer Tasha, you've never really liked your full name" The buzzing flared once more in her mind, her argument died on her lips as Tasha found that, she never really had liked her full name, she preferred to be called Tasha, she had always preferred Tasha. Dimly Tasha was aware of the danger she was in the device on her head had to be some kind of mind control technology, she tried to will her arms up to remove the device, but every time she tried to move her arms the buzzing interrupted her train of thought.

"Now Tasha, be a dear and tell me what you can do in terms of superpowers"

She bit her lip, less concerned now with the hostage as the reality of her predicament slowly sank in but she needn't have bothered, now instead of fear compelling her obedience the buzzing returned, smoothing away any resistance or hesitation.

"My powers are physical, I am extremely strong and my body is highly resistant to damage, I have a considerable pain tolerance compared to normal people" as she finished the buzzing rescinded again, her heart beat quickened in her chest as concern gave way to panic, she redoubled her efforts to remove the headband but found instead, rather than simply locking her arms, she was completely unable to move.

"Simple control questions help calibrate the device you see, the longer you wear it, the more compliant you become, until, well..." he motioned to the immobile blonde next to him, the blade still tickling her throat, he wrapped his hand around her blade wielding hand and gently forced it back down to rest on her hip, taking the knife from her hand, she complied without a word. Her complete placid obedience drove Tasha to new depths of terror, sweat sheened her face and exposed arms as she tried to force her muscles into action despite the incessant buzzing in her mind, she had to remove the headband somehow. Cruel mocking laughter was her only reward as her body shook, muscle fighting mind, the man tapped his phone again

"All Brawn, No Brain"

The buzzing came so strong this time and not just in her mind, it felt as though her whole body was being subjected to live current as the new imperative waged war on her senses, her mind desperately trying to hold onto memories of schooling, of college, of a scholarship in.... she dropped to her knees as muscles gave out, her brain felt like shearing in two and for seconds that stretched on for hours there seemed to be two Tasha's, the first, an honour student at Silver City University studying advanced mathematics and English Literature, a mousy young thing whose body and powers had yet to develop into the women she was today. The Second Tasha was a figment, she was sure of it, this Tasha had been a buxom, brainless beauty her entire life, substituting smarts for raw sex appeal to get what she wanted.

He watched her for a few moments writhing on her knees as the device tried to overload her mind wholesale. In truth she was a test case for the device, manipulating baseline humans had been a simple affair, a lot of the work had already been done decades ago by a collection of DARPA scientists. Back then, of course, they lacked the ability to modulate current as effectively as modern engineering allowed. Even now the screen on his smart device warned him the increased chance of the heroine suffering an imminent brainstorm, it was only her augmented resilience that had allowed such a sustained high current to overwhelm her brain without killing her, alas a dead super was good to no one, a wicked grin crossed his face as his gaze flicked over Pamela to his left.

"Its alright Tasha, no need to think about all that right now" a ragged sigh of grateful relief erupted from her lips as the roaring buzzing rescinded from her senses, she was still on her knees, the flat of her hands planted against the museum floor to keep her balance. The cold of the floor, the chill air of the museum, she tried to hold onto those feeling as though they might cool the burning in her mind as though they might help her focus through the buzzing in her head and burning in her muscles. She barely noticed the man was talking to the blonde again, the words caught her ears but they didn't make any sense in her addled state, from her position on her knees she could make out his lips close to the professors ear, his tongue flicking out momentarily to lick the blondes earlobe, she shuddered and purred as life slowly seemed to return to the blonde as she stared down hungrily at Tasha.

"This young lady has come to rescue you from my predations, I would like you to help her understand our relationship" he whispered in her ear, dropping his hand to the flat of her exposed stomach possessively. His fingers stretching down to tease the waistband of her skirt, she mewled and shuddered as his words mingled with her thoughts, rewriting ideas and desires to match, she felt the tongue flick across her ear, drawing out a long husky purr from her lips as she regarded the prone heroine once more.

"Show her the truth Pamela, make her understand the pleasure that comes with obedience..." he finished with a swat to her behind as the blonde dropped gracefully to her knees, arching her back and sticking out her skirt clad ass as she crawled toward the helpless heroine, licking her lips with anticipation.

Tasha's head rose to meet Pamela's hungry stare, she found herself locked in those eyes, drowning in the blondes seductive gaze as she crawled agonisingly slowly toward Tasha. Gravity pulled on the blondes D cup tits as they swung slowly with each roll of her shoulders as she closed on the doe eyed heroine, nipples hardened through a mixture of sudden arousal and constant freezing air temperature, her ass swayed with every motion, she kept her chest and head low as she crawled, forcing her ass into the air. Tasha found her eyes following the swaying rump, left, right and back again all the while closer and closer the stench of sweat and sex clung to the blonde and seemed to infect Tasha the closer she came.

She hadn't even noticed the man had moved next to her, so locked was her gaze on the predatory blonde's approach. She didn't flinch when his hand tangled through her long red hair and pulled her upwards, her body responding easily to his unspoken commands as he all but dragged her up onto her knees, eyes never leaving the smouldering gaze of the approaching temptress. In this moment, if anyone were to ask her, Tasha would have been unsure if she had ever felt so attracted to a woman before but now all that mattered to her was touching and fondling the blonde goddess, her confusion had given way to lust so easily that an underlying attraction to the fairer sex could have been strongly argued. A glint of steel flashed in the corner of Tasha's eye, the boxcutter blade moved against the fabric of her plain black tank top, slicing through the fabric in one fluid motion as her breasts spilled out, dropping slightly as gravity took hold, the blonde licked her lips again, scant inches from Tasha

The tender grazing of manicured nails against the taught bare flesh of her sides drew a long whimper out of the flame haired heroine as Pamela rose against her prey, pushing the swell of her chest against the nubile young woman's midriff. Raising her head to stare into the younger woman's eyes, dragging hardened nubs of her nipples against the taught muscle as her head inched further up the heroines bare torso. She twisted her face left as she approached the buxom beauties chest, flicking out her tongue to lash against the pale nipple eliciting a mewling whimper from the heroine whose sensations had been dialled far beyond that of a normal human. Pamela alternated her technique, nipping at the nub, rolling her tongue over it and suckling greedily, around and around never letting the red head become accustomed to a single sensation in the constant stream of titillating torment.

She barely noticed the buzzing in her mind, a dull fog swirling in her mind compared to a raging hurricane of lustful delight that seemed to electrify every nerve ending. Her hips bucked pointlessly against the blonde woman's thigh, her core screaming for a fraction of the attention Pamela was paying to her ravaged tits, the massaging fingers on her scalp tangled with her long hair keeping her head pulled back and her chest thrust out, she felt the hot breath on her neck, but barely heard the words that followed even as they flowed through her ear and overwrote her pleasure soaked mind

"Tasha is the Crimson Cuntress, always has been" dimly she was aware of her moniker, the Crimson Cuntress, a tiny voice in her mind questioned why she would ever have chosen that as her persona, but before she could answer, fresh information whispered in her ear

"The Crimson Cuntress is all Brawn, no Brains" between the torturous licking, suckling, teasing and mindless buzzing, Tasha's mind offered no resistance, after all, she had no brains, just brawn, there was no pain in the realisation, no fear of transformation or loss of self, no real thoughts at all.

She had no idea how long Pamela spent driving the young heroine deeper and deeper into ecstasy or how many times she had climaxed, wailing wordlessly with each crescendo as her empty brain failed to conjure any intelligible words. In truth she couldn't count that high any more, and that didn't matter, she was all Brawn no Brain after all. What mattered is the Crimson Cuntress would serve her new mistress and by extension her master and owner.

The Brain Bandit rose to his feet and slipped the device from his new pets head, her eyes rolled back to pure white as her new mistress continued licking nipping and sucking her exposed tits. A small puddle had formed under the kneeling redhead as arousal ran freely down her thighs from her soaked underwear, her strong voice reduced to plaintive whimpers under the older woman's ministrations. At the very least the "Crimson Cuntress" counted as a successful field test for his new device, though it meant slightly adjusting his plans.

"Pamela dear, it seems your going to be informing the Curator via email, for now, both of you are coming with me, there's work to be done" he watched the two women disentangle themselves and gracefully rise to their feet, his eyes skimming over their bodies.

"Maybe work can wait till the morning...."