The Way We Whirr

Authors note: in the first Admiral Anticrime story, our hero was rebuffed by the evil villain Victor Villanova. The villain has been weakened and was unable to enslave the entire city of Metroburgh, but he is still free and under near constant surveillance.

Chapter 1 — Initial Deployment

"You seem ... disquieted, sir."

Maniacal Meriwether stopped pacing around his laboratory and looked at his manservant. "Astute observation, Winston. Not quite the word I would have used, but accurate nonetheless." The supervillain resumed his nervous habit.

"May I ask the source of your disquietude, sir?"

Without stopping, Winston's boss started to think out loud. "It looks like Admiral Anticrime was rebuffed by Victor Villanova. And I want to know what Vicky's up to. I can't let him get the upper hand on me."

Maniacal Meriwether stopped moving around the floor. Wringing his hands, he looked up at Winston, smiled, and asked, "Did you see the news report tonight?"

"I trust that you refer to the incident at the amusement park, sir?"

"Yes."

"What else do you know, sir?"

"Only what they reported on the news. Trusting that the park will be closed until further notice, it seems to me that Vicky has effectively limited himself to the number of people whom he has enslaved."

"That certainly seems reasonable, although if we are unsure as to what Mr. Villanova has actually done, we cannot be certain, sir, if he has all of the followers he will ever have."

"But can we, Winston? Can we?"

"Sir?"

"What if we kidnapped one of Vicky's newfound slaves? We could use her to find out whatever we can and then turn her to our side, yes?"

"I suppose, sir. But don't you think that Admiral Anticrime might be watching for this same opportunity?"

"So we watch Admiral Anticrime and make our move when he is either not in our way, or after he gets his own test subject."

"Very well, sir. Shall I camp outside of Mr. Villanova's lair?"

The supervillain scowled as he looked at his impeccably dressed servant and pondered his options.

"No. The more I think about it, Winston, I believe that we should find someone not so closely connected to me, to do my reconnaissance work."

"Are you implying, sir, that..."

"Yes, Winston. I am. It's ready. I trust you know what to do now?"

"Yes, sir."

Winston disappeared for a moment, returning with a yellow rose, its long stem gripped tightly in his hand. "It shouldn't take me too long to locate an appropriate subject."

"I should hope not," muttered Maniacal Meriwether, as his manservant disappeared into the shadows and into the streets of Metroburgh.

Chapter 2—A sense of smell

Fifteen minutes after leaving Maniacal Meriwether's lair, Winston found himself standing in the middle of Central Square in Metroburgh. He had picked a good time to come, he mused. A good number of people, but not so many that he would draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

Knowing his boss's preferences, he scanned the area for the right candidate. It didn't take long before he saw her, sitting on a bench reading a newspaper.

He calmly stepped towards her, sitting down next to her. She didn't look up from her newspaper.

He paused to ensure that she wasn't going to say something to him first before he said, "Pardon me, Miss."

She folded her newspaper down onto her lap and smiled at him. "Can I help you with something?"

"I would hope so. I'm planning on giving this rose to a certain lovely young lady and would appreciate your thoughts on the matter."

The girl giggled for a moment. "I think it's sweet. Are you going to meet her here?"

"Oh, yes," he answered with a degree of measured enthusiasm.

There was a short, awkward pause in the conversation. She broke it when she said, "Well, good luck!" as she picked up her newspaper and buried her nose back in it.

Winston smiled; he knew he must do, but he pushed the awkwardness of it all to the back of his mind. Shifting slightly, he turned and started staring at her, silently pondering how long it would take before his position would make her uncomfortable. He needed her to react.

Within 20 seconds, she put her newspaper down with greater force than the previous time and asked, "What?"

"Oh, nothing. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?"

"I'll be 23 next month, not that it's any of your business. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to reading—"

He thrust the flower between her and the newspaper. She glared at him for a moment, gasped, and dropped her newspaper to the ground.

As the newspaper slipped down over her legs, she sat straight up and inhaled deeply. She stared blankly straight ahead for a moment.

He leaned closer to her, stuffed a folded-up index card between her breasts and whispered, "That card contains the location to which you must now report."

She retrieved the card from her cleavage, unfolded it, glanced at it for a moment, and dropped it to the ground.

Winston quickly picked up the card, pocketed it, and said, "Very good. Now go."

The girl shook her head and regained her composure.

She turned to face Winston, smiled, and said, "Excuse me. I just realized I have somewhere I need to be. Would you like my paper?"

"Sure."

She bent over, picked up the newspaper, folded it neatly, and handed it to Winston. He watched her walk in a near-march, across the square and out of sight.

He rolled up his left sleeve and pressed a button on his wristwatch. "I found your first test subject, sir."

"Excellent. How soon will—"

"She should arrive at your warehouse location within the next ten minutes. Would you like me to find another subject, or should I return?"

"Wait where you are. I'll let you know which I would like, after this one is done her conditioning. Did you catch her name?"

"No, sir."

"Very well. I'll notify you when I've made a decision about what I need from you next."

"Thank you, Sir."

He tapped a button on his watch, looked around, and smiled. The sense of smell is a powerful way of getting inside someone's head, he mused. He smoothed out some of the sheets of the newspaper and started to scan its front page. "Very powerful indeed."

Chapter 3—Taste sensation

The girl arrived at the warehouse owned by Maniacal Meriwether shortly after Winston contacted him to prepare for her arrival.

The supervillain himself sat behind a desk, wearing a security guard's uniform. He looked up and scowled at her as she approached. "May I help you?"

The girl strode confidently up to the desk. "Yes. I have an appointment here. My name's Sophie Brophy."

"Oh yes!" He looked down to a clipboard and began to run his fingers down it, pretending that her name was on some kind of a list. "Here you are." He glanced at his watch. "And right on time, too. Would you mind please signing in right here..." He pointed to a nearly blank sign-in sheet on the edge of the security desk.

"Of course." She bent over to sign her name. "Where do I go from here?"

"I'll escort you to the room we have set up for you."

He stood up and held a badge up to a magnetic scanner near a door with no windows. A clicking sound signified that the door was now unlocked. He opened the door and, with a flourish, gestured for Sophie to step through the doorway.

She followed him down a narrow hallway and into a dimly lit room. In the room was a sofa, an end table, and a small refrigerator.

"Would you mind please taking off your shoes? You can leave them by the door."

Sophie cocked her head to one side and decided that this wasn't an unreasonable request, so she did as requested.

"Please. Make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to any food or drink you may find. Someone will be with you shortly."

"Thank you."

The supervillain returned to his post at the security desk and watched her on the closed-circuit monitors that displayed the sight lines of several cameras hidden throughout her room.

* * *

Sophie, upon realizing she was alone in this room, looked back and forth to get a sense of her surroundings. She walked over to the refrigerator and saw several bottles of water. In spite of the invitation from the security guard, she mused, it still didn't feel right just to take it, so she closed the refrigerator and began to walk around the room, squinting her eyes in the darkness to see what, if anything, there was to see or do in here while she waited.

As she paced around the room, all four walls lit up and began to fill the room with color, the pattern of colors changing rapidly. She couldn't help but stare at the colors.

Sophie found that she couldn't look away from the bright flashing lights emanating from the walls; if she were to divert her eyes, turn her head, or turn her entire body, it didn't matter: she was always looking at at least one wall that was showing her this pattern. Closing her eyes was also out of the question: the brightness was visible even through her eyelids.

She slowly backed up, feeling her way towards something, anything, other than the colors, the hypnotic, dizzying, vertigo-inducing colors. She felt her legs brush up against something soft and smooth. She smiled as she realized she had found a sofa in the middle of the room.

She took a deep breath and started to rub her temples. The colors, they were so beautiful yet so confusing, so disorienting. As the light filled the room and filled her mind, she squinted her eyes and gasped for breath. This isn't happening, she told herself, as it became harder and harder to maintain her balance. With a lurch, she struggled to remain steady.

After less than two minutes of the light show, she collapsed onto the sofa. The couch was comfortable, she thought, even though she wasn't sure she was ready to stop moving.

The lights stopped flashing and she took the opportunity to see what was nearest her. She could see the end table by the side of the couch clearly; something on top of the table caught her eye.

She picked it up and looked at it: a red, heart-shaped box. She contemplated the box for a moment and thought it looked like one of those romantic boxes of chocolates. She debated opening the box for a moment.

* * *

The supervillain watching her actions on his guards' television smiled broadly. The rose brought her here, and the lights got her to lose her balance and sit down.

"Just wait until you taste those chocolates," he hissed. "Just wait....."

He dimmed the lights in her room.

* * *

After turning the box over in her hands, occasionally moving to replace it on the table before pulling it back close to her, Sophie finally decided it was time to open the box to see what was inside. From all of the movements of the box, it certainly sounded as if it might have had chocolates or some kind of candy in it, but she wasn't sure.

She set the box down on her knees, placed her fingers under the lip surrounding the lid, and gently lifted, using her thumbs to hold the rest of the box on her legs.

Glancing into the box, she smiled broadly. She put the cover down on the table and began to look through the small chocolate-covered morsels scattered in the heart-shaped container.

After a short amount of deliberation, she picked up a smooth looking candy. A chocolate covered cherry, she mused. She held it up in front of her face for a moment before popping it into her open mouth.

She began to chew on the morsel and let out an involuntary, "Mmmmmm" before she swallowed it.

She casually picked up the box and placed it on the couch next to her, and stood up.

"I don't know if anyone can hear me, but thank you! That's delicious," she called out to the room at large.

The additive that the supervillain had placed over all of the chocolates kicked in. Her eyes bulged for a minute, after which she casually removed her blouse and dropped it to the floor.

She sat down as though nothing had happened.

* * *

Maniacal Meriwether pumped his fist into the air. It works, he thought. "Now, my dear, eat another one of the chocolates...."

* * *

She glanced back into the box of chocolates and smiled. She thought about how she really shouldn't, but that first candy was so good... She couldn't resist.

She pulled out a second morsel. She examined this one for a moment —shorter than the time she spent looking over the first one—and ate it enthusiastically.

She stood up, unfastened her skirt, and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of her skirt and sat back down again.

She examined the box again and picked up a third candy, this time not pausing to contemplate what kind of filling it had. In one fluid motion, the piece went straight from the box and into her mouth.

Standing up, she unfastened her bra, lowered the straps over her shoulders, and dropped it onto the growing pile of clothing in front of her.

Without even sitting down, she reached into the box, and grabbed another piece. Without paying any attention to the type of candy she had picked up, she tossed it eagerly into her mouth.

She let out a gasp as her hands moved to her panties and rolled them down to her ankles. In a swift motion, she kicked her underwear high into the air and across the room.

Now completely naked, she turned to look at the box that rested on the couch and decided she was finished. She picked up the cover, closed the box, and put the box itself back on the end table as though she hadn't touched it at all.

* * *

The supervillain watched the image of his subject on his monitor. The stripping chemical worked perfectly, although he still questioned whether a box of chocolates was the best way of getting a potential subject to ingest it.

Chapter 4—Do You Hear What I Hear?

Sophie was nearly ready for her transformation. The supervillain pulled out a clipboard and started to check off entries, as though he were perusing a grocery list and marking those items he had already received.

He spoke out loud as he checked each item off.

"Smell. Check. Aroma has compelled subject to report to premises.

"Sight. Check. Lights calmed subject down and caused subject to become dizzy before she sat down upon the couch.

"Taste. Check. Chocolates compelled subject to remove all clothing.

"That just leaves sound and touch." He began to laugh. As he laughed, he looked around, expecting his manservant to comment, "It's why I'm known as Maniacal Meriwether."

When his laugh was not greeted with the anticipated response, he looked around for a moment before he realized that he was alone. He made a mental note that he would laugh that way again once Winston returned to his side.

He checked the contents of his pockets and decided it was time for him to interview this subject.

He walked down the hall and entered her room. She turned to face him and smiled. This confirmed that she didn't even realize what the chemical had made her do.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," he said politely.

"Oh no. I've only really just sat down."

"Well, I appreciate you coming here. I'd like to ask you your opinion on a new style of music. Do you like music, Miss Brophy?"

"Please. Call me Sophie. And I love music. I always wondered about the act of writing music."

"Then perhaps we should get underway." He reached down underneath the end table and pulled out a pair of large headphones.

He held them out for her and she quickly placed them over her head.

"When I turn on the music, you probably won't be able to hear anything other than the music. I'm here to observe you. Do you have any questions?"

"No, that's all right."

"Very well."

He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out what looked like a remote control. Smiling broadly, he said, "What kind of music would you like to start with? Classical? Jazz? Country? Or Rock?"

Sophie paused for a minute. "Surprise me."

He chuckled to himself as he pushed a button on the device in his hands.

Almost immediately, the look on her face devolved into one of dreamy nonchalance. Her eyes seemed unfocussed, her mouth bent into a subtle grin.

After ten seconds of the music, she began to shuffle slightly in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Her breathing began to slow down.

She clenched her hands into fists and unclenched them. It became clear that she wasn't sure what to do with her arms and hands.

Making a note on his clipboard, the supervillain mused that he wasn't sure it was right to have the subliminal messages keep her arms by and large immobile. "I wonder what she'd do if I said she could move her hands."

Tapping a few keys on his remote, she started to roll her shoulders. As her body came to the realization that she could once again control the movements of her arms and hands, one hand moved immediately to her breasts, running back and forth between them, teasing and playing with her nipples. The other hand plunged straight between her legs.

The music works quickly, he thought. But then again, she may have been aroused somewhat by the chocolates and she just didn't realize she could act on it until the music freed her.

Sophie let out a squeal of pleasure and started convulsing on the sofa, her hips rising and falling, bucking wildly in hopes of bringing the degree of arousal she was feeling, back to something within her control.

The longer the music played, though, the more she seemed to give in to the needs of her nether region.

Finally, Sophie let out a squeal. Her body stopped shaking and her hands fell limply by her side. She opened her eyes, even though they appeared to be unfocussed and blank.

Sophie gasped as the villain removed her headphones, but otherwise did not acknowledge his presence, or anything else in the room for that matter.

He leaned in close to her and whispered," You're almost ready to join my army." He traced his finger over her jawline, appreciating her soft, fragile, and beautiful features: the first successful test of his latest experiment.

Chapter 5—Flesh and Bot

"Can you hear me, Sophie?" asked Maniacal Meriwether.

The naked girl sitting in front of him, her eyes wide, moth agape, and arms hanging limply by her side, gave no indication that she could answer in the affirmative. The slight grunt she made shortly after he finished his question was unremarkable in itself.

"With your mind gone, I've got to replace it with something, so..."

He traced his fingers over her stiff nipples and down to her sex. Her body trembled under his touch, but her gaze remained unfocussed.

"You're ready."

He opened the drawer under the end table and pulled out the tools he would need to finish the job that started when Winston had gotten her to smell the flower.

He began by examining the dildo closely. He wondered how her body would react to it being pressed into her pussy and debated the amount of force he would need. In the end, his musings proved irrelevant, as the dampness of her nether regions made it easy both to position the stiff rubber object at the entrance into her slit, and to slide it as far inside of her as possible.

She let out another gasp, but her soon-to-be master ignored her.

He picked up the V-shaped wire and plugged the bottom corner into a small hole in the end of the dildo. He then took the small clamps on either end of the wire and clipped them directly to her nipples.

Looking over the remote control that he had used to turn the music on in her head, he pushed another button and she stood up, stiffly.

"It is now time for me to take you to the point where you become a perfect little robot," he whispered into her ear. Grabbing her hand, he walked her out of the room where the majority of her preparation had taken place. He walked her down the hall and into a smaller room.

In the center of this new room was a jacuzzi filled with what appeared to be water, except that its silvery tint did not appear to be the result of any reflection off of the walls.