Lips of an Angel

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A reformed supervillain may be backsliding.
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JukeboxEMCSA
JukeboxEMCSA
3,754 Followers

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..."

And then WildRose was tasting her. There was no memory of hesitation, no struggle between her legendary willpower and the allure of soft, wet flesh. There was just a moment where she was staring and then suddenly the salty, musky fluid on her tongue and she was licking it up, flicking away at the nub of Angel's clit as she moaned under her breath. She tried to apologize to Sharpe, but her mouth was busy smearing Angel's juices all over her face as she kissed those sweet lips between Angel's thighs and it all just came out as a series of mumbled groans of pleasure.

She heard Sharpe in her ear, yelling something, but WildRose couldn't really parse it as words right now. She was impossibly distracted by the other woman's taste. It was even purer on her tongue than it had been as an aroma, a distillation of 180-proof lust and need and brain-melting sex that she guzzled greedily from the source. She knew that her lover had figured out what was going on-she had a IQ that was well north of 300 and had heard WildRose licking pussy before, she had to realize what was happening. But she couldn't make herself care, let alone stop. The Dirty Angel just tasted so fucking good.

And WildRose was helping, too. She could tell. Angel's moans were getting deeper, more urgent, louder and louder as she ground herself against WildRose's face. WildRose responded by spiking her tongue deeper, using it like a tiny cock and fucking Angel with it as hard as she could. Her mouth was sealed in a desperate kiss against Angel's labia, her nostrils were filled with erotic perfume. She wanted to make the pretty girl cum. She needed to make her happy, and making her happy would make WildRose happy too.

WildRose felt Angel's legs wrap around her head, but all that meant was that she was engulfed by the sensations. The smell was all around her, Angel's thighs were coated with it and they smeared sticky fluids into her hair and her neck. WildRose knew she was going to come home smelling like sex, but she couldn't connect the thought to anything with any kind of importance. She would smell like sex and that would be good, because she would smell like Angel and Angel smelled so perfect that she just wanted to breathe her in forever. WildRose noticed that her hand was inside her waistband, fingering in time with her probing tongue, but she couldn't remember when she'd done it. The gaps in her memory were getting bigger, and they were all filled with that same scent.

And then Angel yelled in an uninhibited shout of pure orgasmic release, and the flow went momentarily from a trickle to a gush onto WildRose's face. Angel's thighs squeezed tightly for a divine moment before releasing, pulling back to leave WildRose staring drunkenly up at the other woman. "Thank you so much," Angel said. Her voice sounded different. It was calmer and more relaxed, almost musical. "You've been a very big help. Can I ask you to help me just a bit more?"

WildRose nodded, her head bobbing up and down like a puppet on a string. "Good girl!" Angel said, and the fingers that WildRose had almost forgotten clenched hard around her pussy in a sudden orgasm. "I just need you to help me open this desk and take a look around for any papers with the word 'Astarte' on them. Oh, and if anyone tries to stop us, I need you to knock them out. As carefully as you can, please. We don't want anyone getting hurt."

WildRose's face spread into a dreamy smile without any real effort on her part as she said, "Okay!" She heard Sharpe in her ear telling her to stop and demanding to know what was going on, but it was all just silly yammering. WildRose shut it out. Her new friend needed her! She took out her own set of lock-picking tools and got to work.

It only took them a few minutes to open up the drawers, and working together they were able to sort through all the paperwork in less than half an hour. But there were no references to 'Astarte' anywhere. "Thank you anyway," Angel said, a dejected expression on her face. "You've been a big help tonight. Why don't you go home and take it easy for a little bit, okay? You're probably feeling a bit fuzzy right now, and I'd hate to see you go out fighting crime and getting hurt." She gave WildRose a tiny kiss on the cheek that sent a tingle all the way down to WildRose's clit.

Then she was across the room, and making an easy leap back up into the hole she used to enter. "Will I see you again?" WildRose asked, unable to help herself.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Angel said, popping her head back down for just a moment, "but I kind of hope not."

WildRose frowned and started to head back the way she came as well, but then the room suddenly took a few spins for her and she decided to just sit for a moment until some of the fuzziness cleared. And then she could head home and take it easy for a little bit. She didn't know why, but that sounded absolutely perfect.

*****

Sharpe had been training with WildRose for over two years now, practicing in the dojo for three hours every week as well as putting in some independent study with her lover when the two of them weren't fooling around. She could probably take on an average thug or henchman without too much trouble. Even so, her reflexes and skills weren't anywhere near good enough to give her even a chance in a fight with WildRose.

So when Sharpe took an open-handed swing at her the second she got home, WildRose had to consciously let herself be slapped.

"I deserve that," she said contritely, peeling off her sticky jumpsuit and throwing it down the laundry chute. She would have to be careful washing it later; it was saturated with whatever the hell the Dirty Angel had used to drug her into obedience. She'd spent the whole way home half-floating, with little wafts of that sensual aroma drifting into her nostrils and triggering lazy reveries that had damn near caused her to crash her car. She'd actually had to pull over somewhere secluded and take a nap with the windows open to get it out of her system. It definitely needed to go in as its own load, water conservation be damned.

"Damn fucking right you do," Sharpe snapped. Her cheeks were puffy and red from where she'd been crying. WildRose wanted to enfold her lover in her arms, tell her that she was impossibly sorry, but she wasn't sure that Sharpe was even ready to want that yet. WildRose had gotten her brain smacked around by mind controllers before, had even gotten into some compromising situations before she'd managed to get the upper hand, but this was the first time Sharpe had been forced to hear all the awkward details. WildRose could only imagine how wounded she was feeling right now.

Which was why the cotton swabs were something of a surprise. "Fucking goddamn asshole," Sharpe grumbled, as she dabbed away at WildRose's face and hair before dropping each swab in its own numbered baggie. "'Oh, it's not my fault that my 'indomitable willpower' just happens to fail me when it comes to eating out a cute girl who's all lithe and athletic and has those long muscle-y legs I like so much, I just couldn't help myself!'" WildRose wanted to protest that Sharpe was doing a terrible impression of her, but this didn't seem like the time.

But she felt like she had to say something. "I really am sorry, Sarra," she said, the words falling inadequately out of her mouth to land with a limp thud. "It was just so...sudden. I don't even remember realizing that she was doing something to me. Just one second I felt normal, and the next..." She trailed off, not wanting to subject Sharpe to all the gory details just yet.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," Sharpe said, looking like she was about to burst into tears again at any moment. "Just go take a shower while I analyze this stuff in the portable lab, okay? We're probably going to have make-up sex later, and I don't want to fucking smell her on you." Slightly relieved, WildRose took the hint and departed.

Ten minutes of incredibly vigorous scrubbing later, she emerged with her skin bright pink to find Sharpe examining some lab results with an absorbed look on her face. She was typing notes on a laptop with one hand, muttering to herself in a mental shorthand that probably only made sense if you had an IQ so high you had to write your own IQ tests just to challenge yourself.

She looked up when she saw WildRose standing over her shoulder. "You're officially forgiven," she said, reaching up to pull the other woman down into a gentle kiss. "I ran a gas chromatograph analysis of the bodily fluids I swabbed off of you, and...wow. That shit can put the hoodoo on you, no question. It's a cocktail of powerful sex pheromones, hormones that stimulate the centers governing trust and love, peptides that shut down the critical thinking faculties-pretty much a grab-bag of everything you'd want if you were custom-tailoring a chemical weapon designed to reduce a human being to horny, subservient mush. Complete with an aerosolized delivery system. Elementary biology says that you, my love, did not stand a fucking snowball's chance."

WildRose wasn't sure what made her happier, Sharpe's words or the way that she looked at her with a mixture of pity and affection when she said it. "But this isn't in her dossier, right?" she asked, setting aside her relief to concentrate on the case. "I mean, they talked about her using seduction to manipulate her targets, but we'd know if she could do this before now. This is something new. And judging by the way she was acting, she's as much a victim of it as anything else."

JukeboxEMCSA
JukeboxEMCSA
3,754 Followers
12