With an almost imperceptible scraping sound, the acoustic tile shifted to create a gap in the ceiling. A figure slipped through that gap, dropping down into the silent darkness of the offices with only another barely noticeable sound to mark its arrival. It moved swiftly and quietly through the maze of cubicles, a shadow among shadows, stalking with quiet purpose as it headed towards a single desk.
The figure stopped as it reached its destination. Quietly, it removed a set of tools from a low-slung utility belt and unlocked first one drawer, then another. Only the tiniest of clicks betrayed the action. A moment later, there was another tiny click and a beam of light broke the darkness, sweeping over one document after another, looking for something that the silent figure knew must be there...
The lights came on. "That's, um...that's a new look for you," WildRose said, breaking the silence with a sentence she was already mentally reeling back into her mouth. She was hoping for something a little more intimidating for her opening line, maybe something kind of cute and witty like 'Even Angels fall when I'm done with them,' but as always, her mouth was moving just a little bit faster than her brain and she said the first thing that popped into her head.
The woman she was waiting for spun around, an expression of shock on her face. Her close-cropped dark hair made her gray eyes look even wider as she stared at WildRose in wary confusion. She tensed her body, the metal claws at her fingertips glinting as they popped out from her dark grey gloves. She wore a top that matched the gloves, chosen to blend into the shadows, with only a light gray halo and wings stenciled over the chest to break up the uniformity of the outfit. Her boots were gray, even her utility belt was gray...
But she wasn't wearing any pants.
No underpants, either. From the waist to the knees, she was completely nude, her crotch shaved clean so that WildRose could see her smooth and glistening mound. She'd fought plenty of female criminals who tried to use their sexuality to distract enemies; but even by those standards, this was definitely an unusual sartorial choice for a supervillainess.
"You're the Dirty Angel, right?" she asked, as much to buy time as anything else. Sharpe had already gone over all the likely candidates for the recent rash of thefts at Genefit corporate offices, and she'd included plenty of pictures of everyone WildRose was likely to run into on her stakeout. Admittedly, none of them looked quite like this, but...
"I thought you'd reformed," she said, talking quickly to cover her uncertainty. She didn't like it when weird shit happened while she was on the case; it never turned out to be something she could just ignore. "Thought the Justice Underground got you away from the whole 'rob from the rich, give to yourself' shtick and on to socially acceptable crimes like vigilantism. Guess I was wrong, huh?"
The Angel glanced around anxiously, her body tense with a strange nervous energy that was weirding WildRose right the fuck out. She wished her partner Sharpe had been able to get that wireless camera working, just so that she didn't think WildRose was completely nuts. "You don't understand," the Angel muttered, her hand absently drifting down between her legs. For a second it looked like those claws were going to do a little inadvertent damage, but she slid them back in as she began to rub her shining pussy.
And it was shining, WildRose noticed. So were her thighs. The other woman's crotch was practically coated in slick fluids, the liquid slowly trickling from her labia to roll slowly down her legs. Every time she moved, she smeared it into a sticky mess that made her body gleam and glisten under the harsh office lighting. WildRose didn't consider herself sexually inexperienced...or untalented for that matter. But she had never even seen a woman that goddamn wet, let alone made it happen.
Which meant that they were well into weird shit. "Sharpe," she said sotto voce, letting her throat mike pick up the subvocalized words, "poke around for any mind-controlling supervillains active in Samson City right now. Emphasis on anyone with an ability and/or interest in inducing intense arousal, maybe exhibitionism. I know she's got a rep for seducing her opponents, but I don't think Dirty Angel is acting like this by herself." In a louder voice, she said, "What don't I understand? Is someone making you do this?"
"No, it's not-" The Dirty Angel looked down for a fraction of a second in surprise, and pulled her hand away. "You don't understand!" she said urgently. "I just, I need you to go away and let me think for a second!" She snarled in frustration, rubbing her thighs together in what looked like a purely unconscious motion. "Goddamn it, I just need to find out where they moved the, the thing, the project, the..." She reached down and began fingering herself again, humping her hand with sudden urgency. "FUCK!"
"Ohhhhh...kaaaaay..." WildRose muttered, edging slowly away from the other woman before she even realized she was doing it. She forced herself to stop, then to move closer instead. Angel Lady might be crazy, but WildRose had fought crazier. Hell, her therapist would probably argue she *was* crazier. "Sharpe, I need some answers here," she muttered quietly but sharply. "Something's seriously wrong with this chick. She's half-naked, and she's playing with herself in the middle of committing a major felony. That can't be a deliberate decision on her part, right?"
Sharpe's voice finally crackled in her ear. "It's certainly not her usual M.O.," she replied in wry tones. "The only problem is, we have no suspects. Sangria was spotted in Belgium three hours ago, MistressMind and Technophile are both doing a stretch in the Tomb's ubermax wing, Cobra Queen is being kept under heavy sedation by Doctor Frontier, and Professor Psycho is missing presumed dead after that incident with the Darkwarp Concordance. I could go on, but you get the idea. Everyone's accounted for."
"Must be someone new," WildRose grumbled. "I'll see if I can get more out of her." She approached a little closer still, fighting all of her body's instincts that were telling her that she was making a mistake even if she didn't know what it was yet. "I need you to focus," she said, trying to make her tone as comforting as possible. Not that WildRose did 'comforting' well-she probably sounded more like she was asking for directions in a foreign country. Still, it couldn't hurt to try. "I need you to tell me what's happening to you."
"Oh fuck, I..." This close, WildRose could actually smell the musk of the Dirty Angel's dripping pussy. The scent of sex wafted off of her in waves as she pounded three fingers in and out of her wet snatch. "I just, I can't think, I need to, oh goddamn it! I need to cum, I just need to fucking fuck oh fuck!" The Angel's face was contorted in a mix of frustration and undisguised lust as she fingered herself. WildRose felt a surge of instinctive sympathy for her.
"You're not making sense," WildRose said, stepping in to within arm's reach. "Is someone controlling you? Can you tell me that much?" She knew that she was within range of a slash from those claws, but she didn't really expect the Angel to do anything. She was clearly too distracted at the moment. And distracting, WildRose admitted to herself. She'd never seen someone so turned on before, not even Sharpe when WildRose devoted an entire night to it. This girl was drooling from her pussy lips to the point where it was dripping onto the floor. WildRose tried to pretend not to notice that she felt a little bit of moisture herself.
"No, I-" The Angel hopped back onto the desk and spread her legs wide, giving her fingers better access to her cunt. "They caught up with me, I was looking for...for proof, but I found a-a-" She groaned, rubbing the heel of her hand hard against her clit. "I found a thing, alright! I can't describe it, I can't think, I'm not brainwashed I just can't fucking think!" There was a little puddle on the desk now where her pussy was leaking all over it. WildRose suddenly noticed that she was licking her lips.
WildRose stepped closer again. Too close, probably; at this distance, she was leaving herself wide open to about thirteen different kicks, punches and throws. But it was obvious that the Dirty Angel was completely lost in the throes of her frantic masturbation session. WildRose couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor woman. It was obvious that she was stuck and couldn't get herself off. Her nipples were stiff and obvious under her top, and her labia were gleaming and shining with slick juices as her fingers went around and around on the slippery skin. The smell was powerful, intense, like someone had bottled pure sex and turned it into a perfume. WildRose took a deep breath, unable to help savoring the bouquet just a little.
Sharpe's voice interrupted her train of thought. "What's happening?" she asked. "I got no cameras in there, Rose, you need to be my eyes. What's going on?" WildRose frowned, blinking hard. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of it was. They were supposed to be fighting, or maybe Angel was supposed to be running and WildRose was supposed to be chasing her. She wasn't supposed to be standing right next to her target, staring at her pussy and watching those fingers dip in and out, in and out, each time squishing and dribbling out more arousal. She wasn't supposed to feel sorry for the bad guy because they couldn't cum on their own. Because they needed more than just fingers, they needed...the thought trailed away into confusion. WildRose realized she hadn't moved in almost a full minute.
"It's...something's funny," WildRose said softly, not sure whether she was talking to Sharpe or to herself. "Something's..." She struggled to find another word, but all she could think about suddenly was those fingers, that motion, that scent. The scent was everywhere now. It was in her nostrils, in her lungs, in her blood. It was filling her up. "...funny," she finished, leaning in to take a closer look at Angel's pussy.
She only meant to look a little closer. Just a quick peek, to see if a detailed examination of Angel's pussy might shed some kind of light on the strange situation. But the closer she got, the better it smelled, and the better it smelled, the closer she wanted to get, until without even realizing it her face was mere inches away from those glistening, shining lips and she couldn't even blink anymore. She was so close that the Dirty Angel barely even had to whisper for her to hear. "Help me..."
