Episode 2: Hummingbird

Date: 06/09/03

NOTE: The following story contains elements of an adult nature, and those less than 18 years of age, or those who are offended by bondage, non-consensual sex, rape and torture should read no further. All characters are the creation of the author.

Kendra liked her new Hummingbird costume. It was a light blue “mono-kini” which was the marketing term for the skimpiest one-piece bathing suit around. The shoulder straps were narrow, connecting together just below her large chest. The extra cleavage tended to distract the average crook, and with her incredible speed and reflexes, gave her all the time she needed to get the upper hand. On top of the “mono-kini” she wore a yellow leather jacket with a matching blue trim. It gave her bit of color, a bit more protection but most importantly, pockets to hold things in. She also wore matching blue gloves and combat boots. Though the boots were a little cumbersome, she needed the extra traction when running through the city, plus the steel tips helped to protect her feet when kicking down doors.

Her original costume had basically been her jogging outfit with a mask. So many things in her life, like the magical earring that granted her these powers, ‘just happened’ to Kendra, she tended to go with the easy route. But now, she felt in charge, empowered mentally like the plain silver loop had done for her body. Her new costume, she thought, reflected her new attitude.

To top the costume off, she wore a yellow mask that covered her eyes and forehead. To most of criminal types, she was nothing but a blur, but those damn photographers had been had been gearing up for her. Since she first made her appearance, their pictures had been getting sharper despite the speed at which she moved. Kendra guessed there was no money in selling a picture of a blur running through a crime scene.

The mask kept them from identifying her, but it was only a matter of time. The one lady, Daria Gray seemed to have made it her life’s work to get the most embarrassing photo of her. She always seemed to have the pictures of Hummingbird crashing into the garbage cans or lying half unconscious with her legs spread as a villain loomed over her. Worse, she had printed another of her pulling out a wedgie out of her butt cleavage, a definite downside of the “mono-kini”. Despite having saved her life several times already, Gray kept publishing those damn pictures. “Bitch,” she thought to herself, “next time she pulls a Lois Lane, maybe I’ll let the bad guys get her.”

A gunshot and squealing tires interrupted Hummingbird’s thoughts of vengeance. Several blocks up, an old car sped around a corner. One man hung out of the back window brandishing a gun. Police sirens began to wail. Racing from her vantage point, Hummingbird caught up with the get away car. Before the gunman could react, she had snatched the gun away from him. Still running along side, she held the gun in front of him, and bent the barrel till the handle cracked. Tossing the crushed weapon back into the open window, she punched him once in the forehead. The force of the blow knocked him back inside the car where he crumpled to the floor unconscious.

Pacing along the car with the driver, she reached into the window and grabbed the steering wheel. “Stop the car!” She demanded, holding the wheel steady against his wild attempts to turn the car. Quite unexpectedly, he shoved the door open so it smacked against her side and throwing off her balance. Hummingbird’s legs came out from under her and she fell to the ground tumbling out of control. Smashing into a telephone pole, she grunted and the wind was knocked out of her. Only her ultra-dense skin prevented her from having a world-class road rash along her long legs. Still she could taste copper in her mouth as she coughed gasping for air. Spitting out a little blood she looked at the steering wheel, still firmly in her grasp. In the distance the car weaved as the thief hit the brakes, it skidded, turning sideways then flipped over on its side.

Hummingbird rolled back from the telephone pole. The thick wood was cracked from the impact and the wood continued to splinter with a low moan as it began to fall. “Smile for the camera” she heard from behind her. Daria Gray stood there, face behind a camera taking shot after shot of her getting to her knees. So focused on the heroine, she failed to notice the pole that precariously tumbled towards her.

“Are you stupid?” Hummingbird yelled regaining her feet and racing to the photographer. Sweeping her up over a shoulder, she whisked her safely away from danger. Grinding to a halt, she heard the camera shutter clicking away. After unceremoniously dumping the woman to the ground, Hummingbird glared at her, “What are you doing?”

“Well, the view was so marvelous; I thought I’d take a few snapshots as a memento.”

Hummingbird looked over her own shoulder. She could see that Daria’s comments were directed at her own buttock. “Don’t you ever get tired of showing the world my ass?” She asked, fixing the wedgie.

“Don’t you ever get tired of showing it off to the world?” Daria snidely retorted. “I mean wouldn’t wearing a real pair of runner’s pants solve the problem without interfering in your movement?”

“There’s a whole psychology thing going on here,” Hummingbird replied, trying to sound confident, “the outfit is meant to distract the criminals.”

“I’ll bet it does, God knows it distracts me…” Daria voice had a suggestive tone. She reached up to Hummingbird, expecting assistance in returning to her feet.

Without thinking, she grabbed her hand and pulled her upright. Daria stepped in closer, face to face with her. “How can I ever thank you for saving me, again?”

Hummingbird could feel Daria’s breathe on her lips as the reporter stared, almost longingly into her eyes. Stepping back, she felt tiny compared to the photographer. Her confidence and poise felt daunting, well out of proportion to Daria’s physical size. Her dark eyes seemed to be eternally deep pools that threatened engulf her.

“I’ve…uhh…got to go…” she stuttered backing away. Daria fluttered her long lashes and pouted.

“What, are you in a hurry?” She walked closer again. Daria adjusted the strap of her camera, sliding it behind her. “See, no more pictures.”

Hummingbird nervously stared at her. Despite the turmoil, her long silken black hair was still neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Her charcoal dress suit was smooth and unwrinkled as it clung to her well-defined form. She couldn’t understand what it was about Daria Gray that so affected her. She had been riding high on her newfound confidence as a super heroine, but it all faded away when confronting this stunning reporter. She felt like a guilty child looking up at an adult who knew everything. Daria’s eyes seemed like the cold expanse of infinity, but grounded by her smile that seemed so charming and intimate.

Trying to break the prolonged eye contact, she brushed off her jacket and focused on a loose thread, as if it were more important. “Would you like an interview or something?”

“Oh,” Daria answered, “an interview, or something,” she emphasized the word something, “would be terrific…”

“After all those horrid pictures you printed, why on earth would I give you an interview? You would be the last person on earth I should reveal anything to!”

“I’m hurt Hummingbird, those pictures were the best I had! You are not an easy person to get a focus on, on you know. Besides, were they that bad? I thought they showed a human element to the legend,” Daria was again standing face to face with her. “They showed the woman in the hero and the realty of the hazards you face, both the mundane and the extraordinary.”

Hummingbird’s heart was in her throat. She could feel it pulsing throughout her body. “What is going on here?” she wondered as she watched Daria’s crimson lips form each assuring word. It was a sensation of awe and attraction that consumed her. Kendra struggled with the feelings, as she had never felt this way about anyone before, let alone a woman.

The wailing sirens of the arriving police cars broke the silence. Daria was suddenly an arm’s length away, still smiling with that enchanting presence. “Maybe you do need to go now, before the police start questioning you.” With a smooth flick, she produced a business card and handed it to the stunned heroine. “Call me” she said, with a tone that was almost a command. “We’ll do a lunch, or something.” Turning, Daria walked away, her camera snapping away at the crashed car and the police surrounding the criminals. She turned and took one picture of Hummingbird as she stated to run away.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Kendra felt odd. She sat in her tub covered with bubbles that contrasted against both her red hair and pale skin. Sitting on the edge of the tub was the card. Daria’s colorfully adorned business card. Daria Gray, who before tonight, had been her antagonist, and now was an enigma to her, had she really meant what she said about all the embarrassing newspaper photos of Hummingbird? Kendra ran her fingers along her leg, massaging the bruised muscles. By morning, she knew they would be fine due to her heightened ability to heal, but what wouldn’t be gone were the strange emotions that plagued her. “Was she hitting on me?” Kendra wondered, secretly titillated by the thought.

“She’s so…composed.” Kendra thought back to how maintained and controlled Daria had been, not just earlier with the telephone pole nearly landing on her, but at the bank when she was the robber’s hostage, and when the psycho seeking revenge for being fired threw her from the balcony during a Christmas party. Every time Hummingbird had saved her from certain death, she remained fluid and self-assured. There was a deeper mystery there too. Something about her eyes, those luscious black eyes that seemed to see everything while they probed your soul.

Kendra bolted upright in the tub, sending a wave of water over the edge. She had been rubbing the thin line of hair that trailed to her womanhood. She felt flushed and uncomfortable over her unconscious sexual actions. “What am I doing?”

Leaving the warm water, she wrapped a towel around her buxom figure and went to her room. Sitting in front of her mirror, she busied herself blow-drying her shoulder length hair, naturally flame red. Staring at her reflection, she paused to acknowledge that she was an attractive young woman, and perhaps another woman could desire her, physically. “But I’m straight!” She caught herself drifting towards mental images of Daria again. Dropping the towel, she strode to her bed and donned her costume again. “I need to get out – NOW!” She said to no one in particular. “I need to do something, anything, to get her out of my mind!”

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she laced up her boots as her eyes wandered back to the bathroom. The card sat there, just in sight. She walked over and picked it up, intensely debating calling the number or throwing it away. “Neither” she decided, slipping it into her pocket. “It may come in handy to have a helpful member of the press.”

In a blink, she was gone, leaping out the window. The four-story drop might have seriously hurt a normal person, but as Hummingbird, she landed solidly but stood back up. Fixing the perpetual wedgie, she glanced around the dark streets and sped off into the night.

Randomly racing through the city was enough of a challenge to clear her mind. Cars running red lights or turning unexpectedly kept her focused on the task of running. Pedestrians, who seemed to be moving in slow motion to her, would suddenly stop or turn, so keeping an eye on them was critical. If she were to hit one of them, even a glancing blow from her hand, they could b seriously injured. She was moving faster then the human eye could follow, so they would never see it coming. They would just, if lucky enough to survive, wake up in the ambulance or hospital. It felt good to run, to let loose and charge forward as fast as she could, bounding over intersections and weaving between signs and people.

It wasn’t long before she came across some action. Four burley men were fighting out front of a nightclub. The biker looking bouncer stayed back, hands in the air and unwilling to get into the fight. People poured out into the street to watch the men bash each other. Leaping first to the hood of an SUV at the edge of the crowd, she used it as a springboard to clear the onlookers and land between the combatants. Hummingbird reached up and grabbed the shoulders of the closet two, she twisting them towards her with a tug, trying to get their attention.

“Stop it!” She shouted over the roar of the crowd, but both men followed through with her spin and punched. Both landed solid hits to her breasts, which knocked the air out of her, and sent her sailing into the mob. She was picked up, poked, grabbed and prodded instantly. Slapping the drunken sneer off the lewd Samaritan who held her up with one hand on her ass and another on her sore tit, she jumped back into the fight.

She kicked one man behind the knee, pitching him backwards and followed up with a clothesline, which flipped him head over heels. He crashed to the ground, choking and coughing from the impact. A spinning high kick sent the next man twirling in the air. The last two men stopped fighting each other to glare at the tiny woman who had knocked their friends out.

“Mind your own business cunt!” one growled

“Beat you twat!” the other added, not to be left out.

“Is that what passes for witty repartee in the bar scenes? Not much of a pick up line if you ask me!” She taunted the large men. The one lounged forward to grab her, but she ducked under his outstretched arms, only to suddenly stand, lifting him up on her shoulder. Grabbing his legs, she whipped him off her shoulder into a bone rattling body slam on the pavement.

The last man swung at the back of her head, hoping to catch her off guard. Before his fist could have even reached her, Hummingbird had sped behind him. Lurching forward, he turned and tried to swing at her again. She swatted his hand aside and landed a dozen slaps across both cheeks in a flurry. The crowd roared its approval of the sexy heroine’s antics.

Dazed he stood, towering over her. Flipping trough a handstand, she sprang on to his shoulders. His surprised face was buried in the thin light blue material that mostly covered her crotch. She paused for a moment to drink in the crowd’s wild celebratory support for her. Locking him in a headlock with her legs, she threw her weight backwards, monkey flipping him. He crumbled and rolled across the street as the crowd parted way for his unconscious body.

The longhaired bouncer approached, cautiously with open hands. His big belly stretched the black Harley t-shit to it threshold, but he still looked like a dangerous man. Lifting his sunglasses above his forehead, he held out his hand to shake hers. “Thanks there missy, those ass clowns would have ruined the party!”

She shook his hand and the crowd screamed. Distracted by the cheers, she was caught off guard as the bouncer pulled her close and lifted her to his shoulder. Slowly he rotated her around, displaying her to the throng. “C’mon in and join us little lady” he shouted up to her. Hopping down to the ground, she let him led the way back into the bar. One drunken face after the other pushed towards her, only to be rebutted by the bouncer’s thick hands.

“What about them?” She asked, thumbing over her shoulder to the doors.

“After that ass whipping, I doubt they’ll be back here any time soon!”

As the crowd poured back inside, the music kicked in again. The dance floor filled with young folks gyrating and dancing with abandon. The bar was swamped with people ordering drinks.

“Kind of busy for a week night isn’t it?” She asked the bouncer who open a path for her to the bar. Lacking any stools, he cleared the corner and lifting her by her hips, sat her so she could see out over the mass.

“The Poindexter’s are throwing an open bar for the college,” he yelled, not sure she could even hear him. Pointing to the second floor, he indicated a small group of men, all in lab coats. Several were video taping the crowd, while others asked questions and scribbled out notes in their clipboards or PDA’s.

“What for?” She yelled back, politely smiling and waving to the overly friendly people.

“Who knows, maybe they found a cure for being a nerd!”

Hummingbird fidgeted on the bar. Though he had wiped it off, some of the split alcohol coated her cheeks and was soaking into the bottom of her costume. Standing on the bar, she walked the length of it to get closer to the stairs leading to the Poindexters. Immediately she regretted it as the pick up lines and catcalls rang out. Several other women hoisted themselves up and began dancing on the bar to the crowd’s delight.

Exhilarated by the attention, Hummingbird did a pirouette at the far end of the bar, and danced for a moment, sensuously shaking her rear end and flashing open her jacket. “Damn,” she thought, “where did that come from?”

Jumping to the floor, she made her way through the crowd, ignoring confessions of true love and offers of extravagant amounts of money for her time. By the time she reached the stairs, she found herself swaying to the music. Most of these people were her age, though a few were obviously underage but enjoying the scene. She loosened up a bit, taking her time to dance on a few of the stairs as she made her way to the second floor. She was half tempted to ditch her costume and just have some fun. “First though,” she thought, “let me check out the mad scientists throwing this party.”

As she entered the second level, a young man in a lab coat intercepted her. “You don’t want to go there,” he said, leaning close to her ear, “they will be dogging you all night about you powers.”

Stopping to look at the man, he was cute, in a boy-ish way, and wore the same white coat as they others, over a dress shirt, tie, and khaki pants. “And you won’t?” She asked him back.

Leading her by the hand, he took her to a quieter hallway away from the dance floor. Pulling his earplugs out, he asked her “I won’t what? I couldn’t hear you out there.” Extending his hand, they shook as he introduced himself. “I’m Dylan and I brought the boys form the lab out tonight.”

Extracting her hand from his prolonged handshake, she responded “I’m Ken…” she caught herself, “Hummingbird, my name is Hummingbird. So you are the host for this little shin ding?”

“Yep, the guys at the lab had no idea how to celebrate, so I set this up to, y’know, get them out in the field.”

“That’s so humanitarian of you, Dylan. So what are you celebrating?”

Raising an eyebrow, he looked at Hummingbird for a second. “You know anything about melanocortin agonists or MSH?”

Hummingbird tried to look as if she had a clue about what he was saying. “Did you say ‘melons a court in agony’? Sounds like a bad date!” She laughed, causing him to laugh too.

“No, no we developed a new version of a type of chemical called melanocortin agonist, worked wonders in the animals studies – not wait,” he held up a hand to cut off her obvious displeasure with animal testing, “it doesn’t hurt the rats and they don’t have to get shots or anything. Paladin Labs has strict guidelines for the treatment of animals. Our lab manager was a member of PETA for years!”

Assuaged by that knowledge, she listened on to Dylan’s story. “These are the happiest rats in the world. Our computer testing is so advanced that we wouldn’t even use them, if we didn’t have to comply with federal testing procedures. PT-169+ is completely benign with no side effects.”

“What’s PT-169+? What does it do to the rats?”

“It complicated, and I don’t mean to under estimate your knowledge of brain chemistry…”

“You’re forgiven if you can explain it twenty words or less.” She enjoyed the small talk. Since becoming Hummingbird, Kendra’s social life had evaporated. As fast as she was, she couldn’t fight crime and have drinks with her friends at the same time. Plus having returned to the city after college on the West Coast, she wasn’t as well connected socially anymore.

“It stimulants the brain to correct the levels of hormones and produces long lasting beneficial health from a positive mind state.” Dylan stopped, counting words on his fingers, “Sorry, twenty one words, I guess I owe you a drink now.”

Hummingbird declined, “Now, can a righteous super heroine be seen drinking in a nightclub while on duty?” She joked, flirtatiously resting her hand against his chest.

“Well, how about water?” He offered her a clear plastic water bottle. “I guaranteed it to be the purest water within a hundred million miles, fresh from Paladin Laboratory’s filtration unit.”

Seeing her pause, he unscrewed the cap and drank a sip. “Ahh…the good stuff!” He offered the bottle to her, “No boy cooties either!”

Hummingbird giggled and took the bottle. It was cool, clear and refreshing. “You should sell this stuff, it really tastes better then the other bottled stuff.”

“Oh, we are thinking about it, but it might be a little pricey for the market yet.”

“Is it warm in here?” Hummingbird asked, taking off her jacket. She wanted to take off her gloves, but remembered that fingerprints are a criminal’s, and heroines, worst enemy. Dylan’s eyes bulged at the sight. A light film of perspiration had coated her body since entering the club. The thin light blue material clung to her chest, as it swayed with her to the music. The high cut of her suit left her voluptuous hips and a fair amount of her bottom exposed.

She reached up to close his gaping mouth with a finger to his chin. “Why Dylan, whatever are you looking at!” She thrust her breasts out at him, causing him to step back. Taking her hand, he led her further down the hallway, into a quiet and dimly lit room. Pulling her tight to him, he kissed her. Running his hands along the costume’s trim, he followed it to her ass, and squeezed both cheeks, lifting her up on her toes.

Hummingbird excitedly kissed him back. This drove any thoughts about Daria out of her mind. Their passionate kissing intensified as their tongues crept passed their leaps and tangled with each other’s. His hands kneaded her fleshy backside. He was cute, she was horny, she thought to herself, and what’s the harm in a little messing around?

“One second,” Dylan interjected, extracting himself from their full body hug. “Do you want to do this?” He asked looking at her with his soft brown eyes.

“Do what? Make out? What kind of question is that?”

“Well, I just want to be sure. You are very excited and I don’t want to wake up tomorrow with the cops banging on my door. Are you drunk?”

“No,” she replied, fluttering her eye lashes at him.

“No one is forcing you to do anything against your will right?”

“No, it isn’t like you could possibly make me do anything against my will little boy!” She flexed her muscles and raced behind him, startling him when he backed into her. “I’m the super powered one here!”

“One last question,” he reassured her turning around into her embrace, “do you feel 100% in control right now? Are you sure you are doing what you want to do?”

She pulled him in for another kiss and gently bit his lip. “The third degree is a real turn off, Dylan, and that was two questions!” Kissing him deeply, she was disappointed when he pulled back again. “Yes, I feel completely in control of myself and what I want to do is get a little freaky with my new friend the mad scientist!”

She grabbed his hand and pulled it up to her left breast. He squeezed it, feeling her nipple expand against the palm of his hand. Looking around the empty room, he slid his hand inside the cloth and against her skin. Her nipple immediately reacted, firming up to his touch. She moaned pushing her breast against his hand, “Oh Dylan” she sighed.

“Oh Dylan is right,” a fading flicker of self-restraint commented as Hummingbird relaxed herself to enjoy his touch, “so much for the righteous super heroine…”

He pulled the straps of her “mono-kini” off her shoulders, revealing her hefty tits to his roaming lips. She tossed her head back enjoying his expert work. Lifting her arms in the air she gave him access to her whole body. Rolling the fabric down, he left it poised low on her hips, barely hiding her treasure. Tracing his finger along her exposed torso, Hummingbird shivered from the touch. Dylan paused and looked away.

“What’s the matter lover?” She pulled him close, pressing her tits into his chest and looking up at him tenderly. “Is there something wrong?”

“Listen up” he whispered, “I know we just met and everything but do you like to be…uhm…tickled?”

Hummingbird looked at him with an odd mix of longing and confusion. “Tickled?”

His hands glided along her waist, lightly bushing her ribs and the outside edge of her boob. She giggled and pulled away. She could see by the growing bulge in his pants how excited her reaction made him. She felt a little turned on by it as well. “I guess that could be fun, I’ve never been tickled like that before.”

“Well, to do it right, I really need to, well, tie you up so you can wiggle, but not get away. I know it’s a lot to ask but it will be really great, I promise!”

“Tie me up?” She asked. That was something she was used to. Her mind flashed back to the various villains and criminals who had tied her up in their attempts to have their way with her. She was juiced up, all hot and wet below and only really wanted a good balling. “Sure Dylan, if you promise to finish the job right!” She grabbed his stiff rod through his pants and roughly stroked it. “If I get what I want too!”

Looking around the room, Dylan pulled her to a coat rack. Hummingbird grabbed the metal bar, just slightly above her head. She tugged on it, and bending her knees, did a few quick pulls up. The bar was solid and could easily support her weight. Dylan began wrapping some twine around one wrist, securing her hand to it. His nimble fingers tied a series of intricate knots then moved over to her other arm. With both arms bound wide, he stepped back to survey his work. The buxom red head watched him through her yellow facemask. She was breathing shallow and quickly, flushed with anticipation. Reaching around her hips, he lightly touched the skin just above her costume that was bunched on her hips, “Do you mind?” He asked slowly working it lower.

“I am all yours to play with”

Gently running his fingers into the crack of her ass, he pulled the costume lower so it slid down her legs to her knees. He knelt, looking her glistening snatch straight on.

“Just so you know, I wouldn’t normally do this on a first date.” Hummingbird told Dylan, as he tied the laces of her boots to the bottom of the coat rack. She was forced to stand in an awkward position, arms pulled out and up, while her knees were held were together by her costume but her lower legs were pulled apart. She had some trouble balancing herself until she just used her arms to support her bodyweight. “There’s just something about you, about tonight that just makes it seem OK.”

“I know,” he answered. He adjusted the bulge in his trousers. “Are you a screamer?” He asked, leaning close to her face.

As she nodded and opened her mouth to say “yes” he stuffed a handkerchief past her lips. He pulled his necktie loose and slipped it over her head. Tightening it around her mouth, it forced the handkerchief to stay in place.

“Don’t be too nervous, I’ll be right back.” Dylan backed away, enjoying the view of the heroine naked and bound by his hands. She struggled a bit, testing the twine to be sure she could bust free if she wanted to. Minutes passed as she hung there anxiously waiting for him to return.

“I can’t believe I am doing this!” She thought looking down at her naked body, salaciously on display. She felt dirty, naughty and perpetually aroused playing out this little fantasy for the scientist. She began to wonder where he had disappeared off to. “How many times in this guy’s life will he have a body like this hanging around for him? Did he go off to brag about this to the other lab rats?”

The thought of Dylan bringing back some friends oddly turned her on more. Imagining several Ph Ds exploring her body caused her to rub her thighs together and making her even wetter. “I can handle a couple of guys!”

She was almost disappointed when he returned alone and obviously winded. Hunched over with his hands on his knees, he caught his breath. From inside his white coat, he pulled out a long red feather. “I had to run out to my car for this.” He approached, in an almost menacing fashion, sizing up her body, looking for the weak spots. Her muscles tensed up as he waved it past her face, and over her body, without actually making contact. Hummingbird had heard about tickle fetishists, but had never met one before, let alone agreed to become the object of the fetish. She jumped when he made sudden moves, almost afraid of the faint contact that was to follow. She had to admire the skill he possessed. She was squirming and completely aroused, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

When he did touch her, trailing the feather’s edge along the side of her wriggling breast and down her ribs, her nerves endings flared. It was everything she could do not to snap the twine and push him back. The sensation of that feather lightly dancing across her skin was like nothing she ever felt before. She laughed into the gagged uncontrollably, to the point where she was gasping for air and snorting through her nose. She sounded ridiculous, her muffled moaning and cackling as she twisted and contorted trying to avoid the feather’s touch. Dylan played her like an instrument, quickly crossing her tummy to reach the bottom of her arms. Though he brushed the sides of her bouncing tits, he never actually touched a clearly erotic spot. That feather whisked like a blur for the first few minutes, before he paused. His forehead was covered with sweat and his soft brown eyes had a maniacal intensity.

Slowly they both calmed down. “Are you enjoying it so far?” He asked, mopping his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. “Just nod yes or no”

She nodded yes.

“Do you want more?”

Her head bobbed up and down.

“Sure you don’t want me to stop, that was just the warm ups?”

She paused for a moment, pondering how much more intense if could possibly get. Here she was tied up naked in a nightclub with hundreds of people just yards away, being tickled senseless by a man she had only met minutes before. She nodded yes again.

“You are such a victim,” he said, “and I mean that in the good way. You sure you have never done this before?”

She nodded no.

“Oh what I could do to you back at my place with all my stuff!”

The thought of what bizarre equipment he might have stocked in his bedroom sent a shudder done her spine. Hummingbird had never felt so stimulated in her life. She was keening aware of every subtle touch against her skin, from the warmth of his hand passing over her body to the chilled breeze of the air conditioning that blew in the room. She kept her eyes closed, nodding yes and savoring the surprise of his movements across her body.

“See, you are a natural! I would have blindfolded you, if I had more to work with, but you keep your eyes closed!”

She smiled at the sound of his voice. Giving a woman compliments, even to one naked and attached to metal bars, was a sure way to her heart. The smile swiftly lurched to a gasp as the feather was reapplied to her. Instead of racing across her body, this time he focused on a spot for several seconds and each felt like an eternity. The feather tip twirled in her right armpit causing Hummingbird to writhe and snort again. Dylan set out on a pattern, lavishing attention on one part of her anatomy, till the point where Hummingbird became frantic, then hopping to another point and starting the torture again. She lost all track of time as the tickle traveled from her arms to her ribs, her tummy up to her heaving breasts. Teasing her along her ass cleavage and under the curve of her backside sent her arching as forward as far as her bonds would allow, only to throw herself back when he touched her inner thighs with the devious device. All along she had to temper her responses as to not bust free or rip the coat rack from its moorings, but that struggle to increase her pleasure. She was beyond feeling embarrassed by the fluids running from her pussy down her thigh.

She was only able to calm her quivering muscles when he stopped to move around her and when he would focus on her neck and ears. Though it delighted her senses, it didn’t cause the same body wild convulsions as the other places did, and as he noticed that, he spent less time there. While he moved around her, he took care not to touch her with any other parts of himself, heightening her sense of touch for the feather, but occasionally his rock hard cock would brush against her hips and she could tell just how much he enjoyed this too.

Eventually, the hysterical laughter caused her ribs to ache and her head to hurt. With a minimal effort, she ripped her right hand free from its restraint, pulled his tie from her mouth, and spit out the handkerchief. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, “OK chuckles, I’ve had enough.”

Though she still felt aroused, she could feel the sensation dwindling. She began to wonder what she was doing, allowing this stranger to strip and torture her like this. Dylan could see the visible change in her attitude. Looking at his watch, he announced “One hour twenty minutes.”

Pulling her other hand free, Hummingbird stared at him quizzically. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His attention immediately refocused on her. Dropping to his knees, he untied her shoes from the rack while she pulled her costume back up over her sweaty body. She suddenly began to feel very guilty over this lascivious adventure. Blushing, she rushed to cover herself up. Her jacket wouldn’t button up over her chest and when she had gotten it, she had never intended it to, but now she would have wrapped anything over her body to cover it up.

“Wow” Dylan said, watching her complete withdrawal. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hummingbird wouldn’t make eye contact with him. “No, I just remember I have to be someplace else is all.” She walked over to the large window and pushed it open. She jumped to the ledge, mumbling something about it being fun, which wasn’t very convincing. Before she slid out, Dylan called to her.

“Can I see you again?”

“Uhm, maybe we’ll run into each other”

“Oh.” He said sounding deflated. “Here, take one” he called, tossing her a bottle of his water. “You’ve got to be thirty after that marathon!”

She caught the bottle and yelled thanks as she leapt to the alleyway behind the club. She really didn’t want to walk past all those people feeling as shamed as she did. She looked around the empty alley and got her bearings. She could see him watching from the window and gave him a half-hearted wave. How could she have just done all that? It seemed so right in the beginning, but now she felt so bad and guilty, like she would never want to be with a man again! Racing back to her apartment, she began to cry.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dylan kicked at the carpet and turned towards the far wall. Barely visible in the dim room, he looked into the mirror and waved, “That’s a wrap folks!”

Several of the lab coats walked into the room writing notes in their sophisticated Palm Pilots devices. “She burned through the PT-169+ in half the time of the other test subjects!”

“Assume the deviation is in the subject, she’s known to be very fast, perhaps her metabolism is faster then the average woman. I wonder how she’ll deal with the post coital depression?”

“Well, then this test was a waste of time! PT-169+ was to be tested on the civilian population to determine the length and depth of the preternatural sex drive enhancement!”

Dylan raised his hand, still holding the red feather. “You can call it a waste of time but to me, it was a phenomenal success.”

The other stopped writing and stared at him.

“First, we know that PT-169+ has a greater potency then we suspected. All of the woman we tested here, even the lesbians, were happy to solicit and engaged in sexual acts, even deviant acts, with little or no provocation!”

“Second, our benefactors at Biowulf will be thrilled that we were able to document its effect on a Meta Human subject. Though we might not have her for long term studies, the data we recorded on our scans should give then a wealth of information on Hummingbird, if they should ever need to interact with her in the future.”

He had made his way past the crowd of men towards another room. Through its slightly ajar door, he could hear the panting of another test subject lost in the passions of self-gratification in front of another group of scientists. “And lastly, I have an erection that could pound nails through titanium reinforced shielding! Kill the cameras in Lab 14; I’ll be conducting some “hands on” field work for the next hour or so.”

The Poindexters all nodded their heads and returned to their notes. PT-169+ was the most promising drug in their professional careers, as well as their social lives.