The pecking at her window awakened Clairiel from her light afternoon slumber. It was a cardinal, messenger of alerts for M.U.F.F. (Mostly Underground Furry Friends). Clairiel raised the window and took the note from the bird, quickly unrolling it.
Clairiel. Stop. The Bad Doctor has set up shop in town. Stop. Many bunnies did not come home last few nights. Stop. Help us Clairiel, please. Stop
Realizing there was no time to lose she sprang into action, removing her nightshirt and stepping into her ordinary–looking shower, twisting the soap dish counter-clockwise and bracing herself as the liquid latex superheroine uniform was applied. The uniform du jour – a tight (they're all tight) powder-blue long-legged bottom, that gripped every curve and ventured into every crevasse. Complemented by similarly tight top, barely extending below her more-than-a-handful-is-wasted breasts, outlining her areolae, with long sleeves that ended in gloves.
Her taut midriff and belly-button exposed, and every other part of her body clearly defined under the latex, she stepped out of the shower and into her high-heeled platforms, buckling the straps around her ankles. Rushing from the bathroom she paused only to collect her utility belt, stepping into the round piece of elastic that needed no buckle, pulling it up and feeling it squeeze her ass cheeks as she moved it into place at the top of her bottoms. Glancing in the mirror for a quick inspection, she continued on to the door. Suddenly she turned back, checking herself in the mirror again, then running a finger behind her ear, clearing her brown locks. Satisfied she headed again for the door.
Clairiel made her way to the old abandoned warehouse where the bad doctor was performing his tortures in the name of 'science'. Quickly scouting the area she found a way in soon enough, and she wandered through the maze of aisles and shelves until she came upon a room with an eerie light visible through the transom above the door. Ever so slowly she turned the knob until it would turn no more. She pulled the door open slightly, just enough to peer inside.
What she saw sent a shudder down her latex-clad spine. Rows upon rows of cages, stark metal cages barely big enough for the bunnies that each one contained. Their cries rang desperately in her ears.
"He must have abducted every bunny in the city," she thought.
She began the earnest search for the key or switch that would free them. Suddenly, behind one row of cages she came upon it. It had to be it. On a wooden table rested what appeared to be a master switch, with a square base and a peculiarly shaped protrusion (thingie in superheroine parlance). She immediately grabbed the protrusion, intending to activate the switch she was sure would free the bunnies, but her hand was met with a tingly sensation. The 'thingie' seemed to come to life in her hand.
Unbeknownst to Clairiel she had come across the evil doctor's latest prototype superheroine trap, a.k.a. the Orgasmatronic Death Seat. As the tingling sensation began moving throughout her body, her mind began wandering, and the bunnies seemed very far away. Subconsciously something was speaking to her.
"Mount me ... mount me."
Increasingly powerless to disobey she finally climbed onto the table and maneuvered her pussy directly above the protrusion and guided it into her hungry cunt, ripping right through her latex bottoms. The Orgasmatronic Death Seat, or ORGADS as the bad doctor christened it, was designed to convert the sexual desire of its victim into energy. It used that energy to vibrate faster, creating more sexual desire in the victim, which created more energy for the machine, and the cycle continued until the hapless heroine had orgasmed herself to death. Or that was the intent.
Clairiel, though, was already well past her first orgasm and into the second. The machine would pause, allowing the heroine to almost regain control, then restart faster than before. As the machine whirred Clairiel bucked furiously against it. The bunnies watched dejectedly as Clairiel succumbed to the lure of the machine; they had seen the horrible results of the bad doctor's testing. No heroine had lasted more than four rounds with the seductive ORGADS. They averted their eyes as the machine finished its third round and began the ominous fourth.
The machine paused, then began again. Clairiel had survived the fourth round! But the machine was turning her desire against her at an increasing pace and she could not possibly last much longer. Yet Clairiel matched the machines pace and then some. The bunnies soon smelled smoke, their little noses sniffing, and sensed a change in the high-pitched sound of the machine. They rushed to the front of their cages in time to see the sparks fly. Clairiel had short-circuited the machine with her intense lust.
