City Lights

Time to Read:57min
Views:0 (All Time)
Added Date:9/22/2022
Tags: Nightvision

In many respects it had been the perfect evening, the most romantic Valentine's Day in Alexa's 20-year life. A courier had arrived at her dorm room at 4:00 with a special delivery -- her wardrobe for the evening. Her gown was a $15,000 Heather D'Adoria original, a tight silk body sheath, thigh-length, draped with layers of gossamer silk crepe and translucent synthetics reminiscent of dense cob webs. It was a bit Goth for Alexa's tastes, but her benefactor had compensated with over half a million dollars in jewelry, 2 carat diamond ear rings, a cluster of diamond studded tennis bracelets, a diamond and platinum anklet, a breathtaking neck piece with a field of fire opals rubies twinkling around a massive cats eye, a ruby-studded silken garter, and secret pair of pair of golden pasties made of fine golden wire expertly woven into jeweled dragons swirling around her nipples. The stockings and garters were French, and the 6-inch stiletto pumps were Italian of the highest fashion. Dressed like European royalty, she was picked up by a stretch limo at 6:30 and whisked away to the Palladium, Ansonia's most exclusive social club where her date for the evening, construction tycoon Landon Tate, served as president and undisputed overlord.

Landon himself met her at the boundary of the red carpet and escorted her toward the door amidst a barrage of camera flashes. Once inside, the premise of the evening fund raiser turned out be far more scandalous and Machiavellian than Alexa would have thought possible given the proximity of the media. Each guest was provided a domino mask and a stack of "freedom chips" and given the opportunity to participate in various games of chance distributed about the spacious private ballroom. The objective of the decadent game was to win enough chips to "purchase" the allegiance of the other partygoers, with one price required to buy "subordinate" status, double the price for "servant" and triple the price for a "slave." As the President's date and one of the most sultry girls at the event, Alexa was a high priority target to be purchased into slavery and to serve her new "master" for an evening of unrestricted sex play - the true point of the party. Fortunately, Landon was a master gambler and dedicated his play to protecting his date, either buying the allegiance of her would-be masters or threatening their own dates with slavery. It was a very primal and exhilarating experience, and just when it seemed that Landon's luck had run out, it was Alexa herself who had amassed enough chips to thwart a final attempt to whisk her away to the club's well-appointed pleasure dungeons. The erotic melodrama had had its effect on all, and when Landon finally wrapped his arms around her petite waist, the sensation was electric.

It was a magical first date and Landon was everything Alexa had ever dreamed about - rich, adventurous, handsome, and powerful. It was just Alexa's luck that he was also a homicidal megalomaniac, with all his wealth and cunning bent on the destruction of the one thing that he didn't already control: Ansonia's sexy supernatural defender, Nightvision.

"My dear Alexa, you've outdone yourself. Two perfect evenings in one week. First I get to seduce the most beautiful student at Ansonia State University, then I get to take my revenge on the infamous Nightvision, the only person to ever defy my plans." And they're both the same woman!"

Alexa had shed her expensive evening gown for the much more practical but no less erotic fighting togs of her alter-ego Nightvision. With the approach of winter, she had substituted her usual halter-top leotard for a long-sleeve body suit and tights of rubberized violet-black Lycra, with matching high-heeled boots and long latex cape trailing regally to her knees. The skin-tight body suit was trimmed at the thighs, cuffs, and notched collar with violet-metallic piping matching the color of her choker, armbands, and silky fighting sash. A sleek black eye mask framed her haunting hazel-green eyes and her lush mane of auburn hair spilled down to the base of her shoulder blades. It was a daring look befitting her status as the heiress to an ancient Romanian circus family. The sultry costume accentuated her feminine beauty and heightened her air of dramatic vulnerability, a hypnotic stage trick that worked just as effectively on twisted villains as rapt circus crowds. She was the perfect wide-eyed damsel in distress, arousing sadistic and sexual urges in her foes that protected her against sudden death better than the strongest body armor.

Though at the moment, this afforded the young heroine precious little comfort.

The teenage vigilante hung suspended from the arm of an enormous cargo gantry, her legs encased knee-deep in slab of concrete and her arms secured just away from her sides by heavy chains anchored to O rings set into each corner of the neatly-cut block. The petite heroine was secured to the crane itself by means of two long steel cables anchored to the block then looped repeatedly around her body in a criss-crossing web to form a sinister bondage harness before looping through the two heavy hooks of the overhead cargo crane. The coils were cleverly concentrated by means of steel brackets into neat concentric rows around her waist and chest, with two loops dividing her breasts and another two plunging between her legs to form tight crotch straps. Even with the slab still resting on the pier, Nightvision could feel the harness shifting and tightening as she struggled, doubtless designed to draw tight under the weight of the block as she was hoisted aloft. But her journey would be short, for only the open ocean awaited beneath the 200-foot beam of the crane, an icy gangland grave for Ansonia's sexiest crime fighter.

"Is this how you treat all your girlfriend's, Tate? " Nightvision's retorted, though she could not quite suppress the quiver in her voice. "A nice 'Dear John' letter would have been less trouble."

"A fighter to the bitter end, I see. And I do mean bitter." And is if the emphasize his point, a gust of raw, icy wind buffeted the small crowd, huddled around the base of the crane: Landon Tate, his 2 body guards, 4 workmen, Alexa herself, and Genevieve Vidal, jaded French heiress-turned-international-assassin who Landon had hired to help him eliminate Nightvision. Better known as Calypso -- her code name from her years working as an interrogator for the French government -- she had developed a reputation for her innovative tortures. All wore heavy coats, hats, and gloves against the raw wind that blew in from the sea. All, of course, except for Alexa, whose nipples protruded stiffly through the thin rubbery fabric of her uniform. "Pity I don't have more time to warm you up. Maybe this whole 'inescapable deathtrap' plan wasn't such a good idea after all."

The stone encasing Nightvision's legs had DEFINITELY been Tate's idea. A pit of quick-drying concrete had been concealed beneath a trap door protecting the private safe in Tate's corporate suite. Alexa had had only a moment to survey the contents of the safe before falling through a narrowing chute into the thick ooze. The door slid closed above her head and Alexa could only struggle in inky darkness as her feet were frozen in place. After 15 desperate minutes the hiss of gas led to inky oblivion. Clearly, she had been expected.

Now, the steel harness on the other hand that was almost certainly Genevieve's creation. She had gone to great lengths to fully explain its operation and ensure that each coil was precisely positioned and well-oiled to encase the young heroine's body like a bionic snake. In fact, the mysterious grey-eyed Frenchwoman demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of mechanics and complex bondage for one so young and arrogant. And the slim case in Geneveive's hand indicated that she wasn't through yet with her sadistic preparations.

"Patience, dearest, " Geneveive insisted, "You know as well as I that this girl is a witch the whole town whispers of her arcane powers. To kill a witch by your own hand is to inherit her curse. Besides, you said yourself you wanted Nightvision to suffer for her meddling"

With an inward gasp Alexa saw Tate's countenance briefly soften, clearly battling between his hatred for the vigilante Nightvision and his newly-kindled passion for the sexy college sophomore Alexa Tupolov. Despite his jaded sensibilities, her daring spirit, clever whit, and amazing love-making had all but won him over. He had at least some misgivings about turning his young lover over to the cruel death his jealous fianc had in mind.

"So I did," The moment of compassion passed quickly as Landon's hand casually strayed across Alex's breasts to tug at the neat line of steel cables encircling her ribcage. "And if I may say, she looks great in tight bondage."

"Landon, listen to me. I know you put something in the concrete of those buildings to make them collapse. But whatever it is its getting out of control. Somehow its spreading." Alexa had assumed her role as Nightvision to investigate the deadly collapse of several newly-constructed buildings in downtown Ansonia. They were all owned by rival construction firms to Tate Engineering and this coincidence led Nightvision to investigate the research facility. Unfortunately, just that afternoon one of the older buildings ADJACENT to one of the new construction sites had to be evacuated before it too collapsed. "You have to help me stop it, or the whole city could be at risk."

"Enough!" Genevieve erupted. "Your lies won't save you this time, Night Witch. In fact, I think its time we made better use of that mouth of yours."

Genevieve opened her case to reveal more bondage equipment - a rubber dildo gag some 8 inches long, complete with heavy head and chin straps and a rubber gasket at the base to ensure a water-tight seal. The shaft of the gag was lined with a dozen small holes and has thick enough to accommodate one of the three silver cylinders nestled in foam rubber on the opposite side of the case. The bottles were labeled "liquid oxygen" and Alexa could not conceal her look of horror as Genevieve lifted the phallic gag from the case.

"That's right, Nightvision, we can't have you drowning on us too quickly." Genevieve unscrewed the shaft of the gag from its base and slipped one of the oxygen cylinders into its hollow core. "I designed this gag myself for under water bondage sessions. It contains enough liquid oxygen for 15 minutes -- ample time to get acquainted with your tomb. Gentlemen, would you help the young lady with her diving gear?"

"Landon, this is insane!" Alexa pleaded as one of the workmen walked behind her and positioned the gag beneath her chin. "Professor Parry at Ansonia State has already confirmed that other buildings are crumbling. You need to show him what you are using!"

Alexa's head was pulled back roughly and the gag forced in her mouth, silencing any further pleas. The shaft completely filled her mouth and threatened to make her wretch as the outer gasket formed a seal around her glossed lips. The young vigilante could not suppress a shudder of masochistic arousal as the straps were secured beneath her chin and head, then padlocked into place. A moment later a stream of oxygen began hissing into her mouth, filling her lungs, forcing her into a strange rhythm of breathing in through her mouth and out through her nose.

"There," Genevieve smiled sadistically as she admired her handiwork. "Now I think its time for the witch girl to go for a little swim."

Alexa pulled desperately against her restraints as the workmen activated greenish chem-light sticks and secured them to the O-rings around the block, allowing her some ghostly illumination so she could appreciate her final moments on the bottom of the sea. Landon could not resist the opportunity to run his hands across her body a final time, slipping the back of his hand across the flank of her breast, across her muscular abdomen and across the 6 coils of oily cable around her waist. Any compassion Lane had felt for her moments before had now been replaced by sadistic arousal, the rush of ultimate power that came from crushing your adversaries in as cruel a manner as possible. Nightvision could not help but struggle against her chains as the feelings of complete helplessness and mortal fear coursed through her like electric shock, much to the delight of her captors.

"Ahhh, now I think she is starting to fully appreciate her position," Genevieve preened, as the sexy crime fighter alternately pulled at her right chains, then her left with all her might.

"Boys, lets hoist her up, nice and easy now."

All turned their gazes instinctively upward as a line of yellow strobe lights activated along the length of the 200-foot boom. The chains overhead clanked and swayed then the hooks started rising slowly upward, drawing Nightvision's harness tight around her body in a crushing embrace. The young vigilante struggled to remain calm as the cables slipped across her body and the pressure working its way down from her chest to her waist and then to her crotch, drawing her back bolt-straight as the weight of the block was transferred to the harness. Alexa threw her head from side to side and moaned into her gag as the harness pulled mercilessly tight, biting deeply into her flesh and squeezing her ribcage until her breathing was reduced to short haggard gasps. Alexa's head was swimming from pain, fear and partial asphyxiation as the block finally left the ground, its full weight transitioned to the harness. The young witch-girls' eyes were glazed and her head lolled from side to side as she struggled just to breathe.

"Perfect," Genevieve preened as the workman steadied the slow swaying of the block. She held up a remote controlled sheathed in yellow industrial rubber. "The crane is computer controlled. Once activated, the crane will raise you to its maximum 150 feet above the ground, then carry you 200 feet out over the deepest part of the channel. You'' have a moment's respite from the harness when the hooks release, followed by your finally plummet into the icy sea."

"mmmmpfh," was all Alexa could mutter, as the harness seemed to settle in micro-surges tighter around her, easing some of the pressure on her chest only to transition it to her waist, then a bit to her thighs and crotch. She grudgingly had to admire the skill of her boyfriend's engineers - given the weight of the block it would have been easy for them to inadvertently crush their victim to death. As it was, the majority if the weight was centered on her hips and shoulders, with the wider-spaced coils just biting into her skin and criss-crossing between her breasts. For a man only recently taken to deathtraps, he had designed his extremely well.

And clearly Landon was impressed by her conduct as well, for his eyes were glue to her face, her perfect breast, and her muscular body. Alexa could not help but notice the arousal at his waist.

"I must be getting Calypso out of this weather before she catches cold," he looked over at the whip thin French assassin, brows knit in mock sympathy, "Though I must say I've killed many enemies and I find your self-control quite moving. So I have a proposition, in exchange for one final kiss, I will remove your gag, a quick and honorable death at the bottom of the harbor."

Calypso's eyes suddenly went bright with alarm, her fear of Alexa's purported witch-like powers driving her protest her fiance's decision, if only with her body language. She was afraid that by removing the gag Alexa would be free to cast some kind of hex on them. Clearly, Alexa's enemies had no real grasp of here true powers and in this she could take small comfort. Genevieve leaned forward with her hand outstretched as if to pull Landon's hands form the gag with the force of her will. But Nightvision spared her the trouble, narrowing her eyes and then turning away. She would accept no quarter from a madman like him.

"Alright," the edge of menace cut like knife in his voice, "enjoy your little trip to hell."

With that one of the workmen activated the computer, starting Nightvision on her journey upward, finally out of the circle of captors and up into open space.

Deprived of oxygen, Alexa's normally razor-sharp mind reeled back to the previous summer when she had been shrunk down to the size of a Barbie doll by the Toy Master, fitted with a pair of petite purple mouse ears, and sealed in his terrarium with a brood of young boa constrictors. Despite drenching her in an exotic perfume laced with mouse estrogen and sprinkling her chestnut hair with snake-attracting glitter, the "Nightmouse" had managed to hold off the attacks of the dozen half-starved snakes for hours until her desperate retreat led her into striking distance of the monstrous mother boa, whose 16-foot body nearly encircled the entire terrarium. Huge jaws engulfed her entire body in the blink of an eye and the mother snake could easily have swallowed her alive. Instead she chose to bring Alexa back to her lair so her young brood could practice crushing and subduing their purple prey before feeding on her. The Toy Master watched with his pop-bottle glasses pressed against the glass as the glittering, mouse-eared Nightvision was lowered struggling into the nesting pit and one-by-one each young boa eagerly twisted itself around her body. What followed was a 12-way tug-of-war with every part of Alexa's body locked in the slowly tightening embrace of a different snake as each struggled to claim a portion of the meal for their own.

Genevieve's steel coils lacked some of the evil flair and amphibian horror of Alexa's ordeal in the terrarium, but they encircled her body with even more brutal efficiency, pulling her waist corset-tight and forcing her spherical breasts firmly forward while reducing her breathing to labored gasps. The crotch straps dug deep at the extreme points of her spread, pulling the rubbery fabric of her costume tight across her pubis mons. The memories of the snakes flooded through her mind like a waking nightmare as the concrete block shifted and swayed in the icy wind, driving surprisingly lively and agonizingly painful shifts in her cable harness. She couldn't help but scream into her gag as the crane hooks jolted to a stop just beneath the steel track running the length of the boom out over open ocean. Her arms and legs were going numb which eased the pain, but confirmed that the harness was all but completely constricting her circulation. If the journey out to the center of the channel took too long there was a very good chance she would be dead before she ever hit the water.

Fortunately, the cane shifted her out over the water with a sense of urgency that gave Alexa hope. Looking down and her feet embedded in the concrete she noticed that there were still ripples in the surface around her legs like the surface of a pond. The surface of the hallway had turned from solid to liquid and then back to solid again that fast. She cursed her luck at having fallen for such a simple yet foolproof trap.

And if escaping from the concrete would have been difficult in the pit, it would be doubly so now, suspended from the cargo crane, wrists manacled and chained, cape whipping behind her in the icy ocean wind. As the pier with its small crowd of captors disappeared behind her, the ocean opened all around, the surf slapping idly at the pier in gouts of foam. In the distance perhaps a dozen other ships were in port and many were loading or unloading transit containers in the non-stop world of maritime trade. But no one could see the tiny figure of Nightvision being whisked aloft by the unattended crane. No one could hear her muffled cries for help. But Alexa was never quite alone.

Alexa what the hell have they done to you? Came the voice in her head. It was her identical twin sister, Alicia, also a powerful witch who shared Alexa's role as Nightvision.

Suspended by cargo gantry on the pier.

My god, I can see you! I'm coming right now "

No! Alexa forcefully thought back to the psychic twin. Stop Tate and Genevieve! City is in danger.

But what about you? Can you escape?

Alexa looked down at the waters far beneath the block, her own body illuminated in the ghostly glare of the chem. lights. The wind still whipped all round her but she felt strangely warm. Don't know maybe. Nothing you can do to help me now.

Alexa had seriously considered summoning her sister while still on the dock, but much of their effectiveness as a crime fighting team depended on the two of them never being seen at the same place at the same time. As it was, Alicia would have complete surprise when taking on Tate and his goons - often times their opponents were all but too shocked at their "miraculous" escapes to even fight back. But the price of that advantage for one sister often required the other to bear the brunt of their opponent's twisted schemes. A few concussion grenades and plastic zip cuffs and Tate would be in custody, though at the moment -- chained, gagged, and encased in concrete dangling a hundred feet over the frigid ocean -- Alexa was in no mood to celebrate Nightvision's latest imminent victory. She might well pay for it with her life.

Coast Guard is on its way, with a diving team.

The coast guard, Alexa was careful this time to NOT broadcast her thoughts to her sister. I feel safer already. At best speed it would take the harbor patrol 15 minutes to arrive at the scene, another 20 to get divers in the water, and another 25 if they were lucky to locate her position in the murky water. With grim certainly, Nightvision knew she would have to somehow save herself, or she was dead.

Alexa's head was swimming as the cranes carriage neared the last of the rotating yellow light heralding the end of the long boom. Her body was almost completely numb and it took all of her concentration to command her fingers to form weak fists beneath the heavy manacles securing her to the block. She had an almost overwhelming urge to just close her eyes and surrender herself to Genevieve's trap, but every moment above the surface was precious - she had to make the most of them if she could.

"Mmmmph! Mmmmph!" Alexa screamed into her gag as she twisted her left leg, trying the reach the top of her left boot with her outstretched fingers. Her captors were careful to ensure that she would be unable to reach her utility belt but she was just able to dip her fingers into the top of the thigh-hugging boot and withdraw a glass test tube which she had stolen from Tate's materials lab. She didn't know precisely what it was, but she had a theory.

She had just managed to pull it from her boot, however, when the crane jolted to a stop, forcing the block to sway and - to Alexa's horror - the test tube to slip from her fingers. It shattered on the block near her feet to form a tiny stain on the concrete but no more. Alexa moaned into her gag in despair - she had been hoping for something a bit more spectacular. She had a final moment to enjoy the heart-stopping view of the Ansonia cityscape from the perilous perch high above the waters, and then the hooks over her head suddenly released. Her heart leapt into her throat she hurled toward the water far below.

Any relief Nightvision felt at the sudden loosening of the tension of the steel harness was more than offset by the crushing contact with the water. The force of the impact must have knocked her semi-unconscious for some moments, for when she regained her senses the frantic motion had stopped, only to be replaced by a sensations infinitely worse - deadly cold, fierce pressure in her head, complete isolation. Nightvision had reached the bottom of the harbor still standing upright, as Tate's clever engineers had surely intended, but the muck and silt comprising the bottom was apparently unable to support the weight. The trapped heroine was drawn slowly, inch-by-inch deeper and deeper into the sucking mud. First to her thighs, then to her hips, then to her waist. With a wrench of horror Alexa confronted the reality that there could be 20 feet of muck at the bottom of the harbor. If she couldn't get free quickly, there was a good chance that even her body would never be recovered.

Fueled by desperation, Alexa turned her full attention to pulling her legs free from the block. With a new rush of hope, she found that she had a great deal more mobility in her legs than when she was suspended by the crane and it was not simply the weight of the block. The concrete was dissolving around her.

The vial! Alexa thought excitedly. So I was right!

Microbes. That was the secret to all of Tate's plans. Genetically engineered bugs that ate concrete like similar strains that fed on wood or crude oil. Nightvision had snatched the vial at the last possible moment before plummeting into the pit. Now the concrete was dissolving from around her feet just as it had in a number of major municipal building projects run by Tate's competitors who had apparently outbid him.

A moment later her legs were free and she produced a small torch from her utility belt to go to work on the wrist manacles leaving her attached to some 150 pounds of heavy chain. Genevieve had left her plenty of oxygen in the gag to work her way through the heavy steel, and Alexa sincerely hoped that her sister Alicia made the French heiress's capture as humiliating and painful as possible. She certainly had enough evidence to put Tate and his scheming fiance in jail for long long time.


Alexa Tupolov sat cross-legged in the center of her dorm room floor, amidst a cacophony of blowing fans, blaring music and the inane chatter of the local television station played at top volume. Her arms were outstretched in the lotus position, palms upward, and to the casual observer it almost appeared that she was meditating peacefully amidst the den of noise and chilly air. But her brief two-piece exercise outfit was soaked with sweat and her entire body quivered from the immense mystical exertion that took a physical toll greater than the most demanding physical workout. The focus of her efforts were two simple tumblers of water -- one to her right and one to her left - that hung suspended in empty space two feet above the ground and some six feet beyond her finger tips. The two glasses wobbled only slightly despite the din as Alexa struggled to extend her focus to a third tumbler on the floor directly in front of her. The glass occasionally tipped and wobbling but stubbornly refused to lift into the air. Despite al her efforts, the triple levitation was a challenge that had alluded her for months.

Alexa and her twin sister Alicia had known for years that they were witches, descended from an ancient Romanian blood line jealously guarded by the Gypsy clans of Eastern Europe. Their father Paulo had secreted both his young daughters out of Romania as babies to avoid the Gypsy practice of "culling" - murdering of the second-born of female identical twins. Though Paulo's act certainly saved Alicia Tupolov's life, it also deprived them of the training and secret knowledge normally imparted to the developing witches by the Clan Elders. The twins shared a telepathic bond their entire lives, but with the onset of puberty both began manifesting powerful empathic abilities to read and actually absorb the feelings and emotions of others. Untrained and with their father powerless to help them, the sisters were left to deal with the constant bombardment of conflicting emotions as best they could, first learning to endure the presence of individuals and slowly developing the ability to move among crowds by filtering out unwanted emotions. It had been a long and traumatic process, and left the sister's still completely ignorant of what other powers they might posses and when they might unexpectedly emerge. One such latent skill, Alexa had learned, was apparently telekinesis.

As usual, Alexa had learned of her new ability as a matter of desperate need while serving as her alter-ego, the vigilante Nightvision. She was still just a freshman at prestigious Ansonia University when the school was racked by a sudden rash of suspicious suicides. With the police powerless to help, Alicia and Alexa used their empathic abilities to search for suspects and their attention quickly turned to Dr Cyrus Bender, one of the university's top professors in Neuroscience. Donning her new Nightvision costume, Alexa had investigated his recent construction project near the campus radio station to discover that the doctor was using the station's FM transmitter to bombard the entire campus with some form of mind-altering energy. Yet before she could slip out to alert the authorities, the single door the concrete facility was locked and barred, and Alexa found herself trapped in an RF test chamber with Dr Bender himself staring down at her from a small shielded control booth. As Alexa desperately searched the test chamber for some alternate means of escape, Bender explained that he had perfected a new technology capable of artificially inducing the purest of human emotions using radio waves to directly stimulate various regions of the brain. The intensity of the emotion was limited only by the power of the transmitter and the duration of the exposure, so naturally the military was interested in the potential application of his invention as a new weapon. They had provided him the funding the build the test facility, which would focus the full power of the college's radio transmitter into a small enclosed space, simulating the potential of a steered array military transmitter. His tests on animals had proven brutally effective - his ANGER-inducing frequency caused docile rabbits to rip each other to pieces and his FEAR setting caused trained pit bulls to cower quivering in the corner. Even incidental exposure to the radiation had driven several moody college students passing by the facility to commit suicide. But Nightvision would be the first to experience the full force of his invention at full power.

Bender theorized that subjecting her to a repeating succession of powerful emotions would have the most devastating psychological effect and that within minutes she would be willing to do anything to end her ordeal. And to help her along, he introduced to Alexa to her asphyxiation collar, a device she had already discovered on a table inside the steel mesh walls of the chamber. By locking the broad collar around to her own throat and turning the pressure wheel at the back she could slowly constrict her own airway until she suffocated, a slow and painful death but one that would leave no permanent marks on her body that would point to foul play. He had selected the sequence of emotions based on the intensity of the sensations they produced - GRIEF, FEAR, AROUSAL, ANGER, LAUGHTER. She would endure each emotion for 1 minute with the transmitter slowly ramping up from 40% to 100% power after 6 cycles. Of course, Bender would need to evacuate the facility for the actual test due to the danger of energy leakage, but he couldn't resist the temptation to personally give her at least a taste of what was in store for her, starting with his most complex emotion --- AROUSAL. Even at 20% power Alexa remembered the sensation washing over her like a powerful head rush as her brain suddenly flooded with endorphins. She could maintain her balance only by pressing her back hard against one of the steel walls, her vision narrowing to long tunnels and her heart racing in her chest and her crotch tingling madly. Bender prattled on about having a way with women while Nightvision dug her gloved fingers into the mesh of her prison as the unnatural sense of arousal that had started in her brain flooded through her body in waves of heat, electricity, and throbbing pain. The mad scientist left the AROUSAL signal on for many long minutes as he made final preparations for Nightvision's grisly death, noting with amusement as the petite coed's nipples went rock hard beneath the violet-metallic fabric of her body suit and the glossy band of fabric covering her pussy darkened with her own cum.

With great effort, Alexa had managed to look up and match gazes with her captor. "You seem to be . mhhhhh enjoying the show. Maybe you should come down here and help a girl work off a little steam."

With that Bender laughed. "Ohh, I assume you, I'm already quite erect, just from the residual radiation leaking through the shields. I'm afraid there's very little any man could do to satisfy the lust that is taking over your mind. And I'm afraid its only the beginning."


The AROUSAL signal finally relented, and Nightvision dropped to her knees in exhaustion. Bender had proven to the young vigilante beyond a shadow of a doubt that his invention was very real and the Alexa was in serious trouble.

"But I hate to see such a beautiful girl suffer longer than necessary, so I'll make you an offer. If you put the collar on now, then I'll set the AROUSAL stage for 90 seconds instead of 60. I guarantee you'll find it much more difficult to don the collar once the full power sequence has started. The AROUSAL phase at least offers you some opportunity for conscious thought compared to the other more primal emotions. To plan your daring escape of course."

Bender seemed to be enjoying every second of her emotional turmoil and uncertainly. Finally she lifted up her own hair and slipped the collar around her own slim throat. snapping the mechanism shut with a solid CLACK. The 4 ridged nooses felt chillingly like fingers, ready to squeeze.


"Excellent choice." Bender's smile was merciless. "It a pity I can't stay around to observe your final agonies, but I will be taping your ordeal for later research. Farewell Nightvision."

The initial wave of sadness hit had Alexa like the first drop of a roller coaster as the display on the wall showed the transmitter climb to 40%. She dropped to all fours, hands clenched into fists as bitter tears streamed down her face and she fought hopelessly to hold down the racking moans. Rather than dissipating over time as would genuine sorrow, the feelings intensified over time, only to yield after 60 seconds to the even tighter grip of blinding fear like her purest nightmare. The shadows came alive with menace and she started desperately clawing at the door for escape, only halted by the sudden wave of arousal that dropped her to the ground with the force of a stomach blow. The desire to caress her own body was irresistible as she surged toward climax after climax, her erotic struggles only interrupted by the wall over anger and frustration that was focused purely in herself. The emotional surge from darkest rage to helpless laugher gave Nightvision just long enough to note that the machine was still only at 55%. As she doubled over with laughter the joke was definitely on her.

Alexa lost track of how many full cycles she had endured in the machine, but each emotion ripped through her with unrelenting force - one moment she blubbered uncontrollably at sense of unimaginable loss, the next she was lost in blinding fear, then white hot with humiliating arousal, blinded by uncontrollable rage, then nearly suffocated with endless spasms of laughter. The wrenching emotional transitions compounded the torture and, true to Bender's hypothesis, she was soon eager to take any action required to end her suffering. Fortunately, Bender's asphyxiation collar required a large number of turns to fully activate and frustration at her slow demise led the trapped heroine to the even more desperate scheme of attempting to reach out with her witches mind into the control room and turn off the transmitter. No one was more amazed than Nightvision when she finally managed to turn it off, finally emptying the chamber of the deadly emotional waves. Bender went to jail for his experiments on the student body and Alexa vowed to improve on her telekinetic abilities should they be needed again.


Both glasses suddenly hit the floor and Alexa snapped her head toward the television with a start. Tate?!! Released?!! It was unfathomable, especially considering the evidence she had passed on to the Police. Tate should have gone to the pen for 30 years.


Alexa stood up and turned off the radio a TV, stunned and angry. .


The ringing of the phone gave Alexa a start, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she knew who it was.


"Hey ... Alexa. I'm back from jail. Did you miss me?"

"I don't know what kind of tricks you pulled to get of jail, Tate, but I'll never let you get away with this."

"You still sore at me for dumping you into the harbor like that sorry, I guess I got a little carried away. Not that it slowed you down any. How did you do that by the way?"

"I'm a witch, remember? Killing me is bad luck. I was just doing you a favor?"

"I like your spirit, Alex. I've never seen someone look so sexy and brave facing torture and slow death. It was a real rush."

"Guess I just knew something you didn't."

"Apparently. Hey I got you something .. check outside your door."

The blood rushed through Alexa's ears at the stony silence. Was someone in the dorm.

"Don't worry, if I wanted you dead you'd be dead already. Just go check it out."

"Ok. Hang on."

Alexa padded slowly to the door and peeped the through the peephole, noting with a weary sigh what little protection the flimsy door truly offered against Tate's army of profession killers on Tate's payroll. To her relief there was no one outside, and a metal briefcase. Slowly we opened the door surveyed he hall then, brought the case into her dorm room.

"Okay I got it."

"Well open it up, Alexa! I made it just for you."

Biting her lip Alexa slipped open the polished steel latches and lifted the lid. She cold not suppress a little gasp.

It was a high-tech, erotic interpretation of Alexa's Nightvision uniform, a long-sleeve body suit, cape, cowl, and high-heeled boots all made of a luscious violet-black material that stretched like spandex but gleamed like wet rubber. The body suit was French cut and custom sculpted to hug the contours of her body, with a modest keyhole to highlight her cleavage and a discrete zipper through the crotch to provide easy access to her sex. A beautiful, stylized silver owl emblem twinkled on the left shoulder patch and left breast cup. The cowl was open at the scalp allowing her mane of chestnut hair to flow free and her face was largely exposed except for an eye mask that started high on the bridge of her nose and angled across her cheekbones to frame her pouting hazel eyes. Her thigh-high boots were apparently made of the same material as her body suit with stout four-inch heels that at least gave her some freedom of movement. The short gloves were of the finest black kid leather with non-slip pads. Her new utility belt also bore the stylized emblem of the screeching owl but had only four compartments, already equipped with blinking electronic devices - no double tracking and communication devices of some kind. The outfit left little to the imagination, and was clearly designed more for fetish appeal than for operational utility.

"You like it? I hope you don't mind that a made a few improvements to the original design. But the inspiration is all you."

"You're recruiting a captain of a super-powered drill team? Sorry, but I can't dance."

"Ohh, I know you better than that. In fact, I know you have expensive tastes, so look in the jewelry box."

As usual, Tate had included an array exquisite adornments with his erotic version of the Nightvision myth, including huge violet amethyst earrings, a choker with an amethyst center piece circled with diamonds, a gorgeous platinum and topaz broach for her cape, diamond studs for her upper ears, a dainty sapphire toe ring, a jeweled clasp for her cape, and a pair of pasties of gold filigree also bearing the stylized screeching owl symbol on her uniform. Everything was of top quality and perfectly designed for her, incorporating her new professional owl logo. It was if Nightvision had recently signed with a corporate sponsor.

"And lucky me, its just my size."

"Of course. And just to complete your new look, I've provided you with some new grooming supplies. Look in your bathroom."

Alex's ears were ringing as she stepped through the doorway into her tiny dorm bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Just as Landon had suggested, all her bargain toiletries were gone and replaced with new top-of-the-line cosmetics, lotions and medications --vivid theatrical make up, high-gloss hair oil, hair and body glitter, sexy Italian perfume.
But any appreciation she might have felt at the style upgrade was more than offset by the line of drugs on the bottom shelf - appetite suppressants for crash weight loss, powerful birth control pills to completely suppress her period, female hormone boosters to promote fertility and lactation, a generous supply of a notorious date rape drug known to promote extended "erections" of the female clit and nipples, and several tubes of a Japanese black lab nano-lubricant designed to leave her sex tight but ultra-slick and highly elastic for "extreme" sexual encounters. Tate had thoughtfully provided separate applicators for her pussy and ass.

With the sultry new costume, flashy make-up, and erotic drugs he was clearly planning to remold Nightvision into a fantasy character of his own design. He had apparently become obsessed with the eroticism and excitement of their last encounter so was planning to reenact their battle, except with all the odds stacked totally in his favor and the details modified to his own sadistic tastes. By changing out all her equipment and costume he could eliminate any advantage she might have from trick weapons or high-tech gadgets. By electronically tracking her movements he would eliminate any element of surprise or deception. And by establishing himself up front as a "villain" and threatening the entire city he could lead her into any situation he desired.

And Alexa could guess the kinds of "situations" Tate had in mind. He clearly intended that she be awash in hormones and sexually aroused at all times. Her petite, hourglass body would be completely at his disposal for whatever sadistic sex-games he could dream up with his almost limitless resources. Whatever he had in mind for Nightvision, Tate clearly would not be satisfied with simply chaining her up and throwing her into the ocean.

His voice purred menacingly into her ear. "From now on, whenever you go out as Nightvision, I want you to wear your new uniform. Of course, it's a bit more revealing than your last togs, so from now on you're on a strict diet of water, vitamins, and the appetite suppressants I've supplied in your bathroom. I've made you an appointment downtown for a body wax, nails, and collie treatment. You'll be amazed how clean and fresh you feel once you're thoroughly purged. Sorry, no last meals."

"Landon, this is sick. What is it you want?"

"What is it I want - why just what YOU want, Alexis. I want you to sacrifice yourself to deadly villains to ransom your precious city. I want to see you bound, helpless and aroused as your enemies torment and humiliate you, then commit you to almost certain death as an example to others that resistance is futile. I want to see your amazing instincts for survival tested to the very limits of physical and mental endurance. And I want to watch."

Alexis was stunned by the eloquence of Landon's rant. "Couldn't you just buy a newspaper?"

"My dear. Alexa .," Tate burst out into laughter. "You never cease to amaze me. Unfortunately, your secrets you keep very well guarded. I've witnessed your uncanny talents for outwitting death first-hand. I want to see for myself how you do it. Unless, of course, you care to just tell me?"

"No," Alexa returned to the metal case and held up the cape. The material was silky soft to the touch but with surprising heft and iridescent sheen. Secretly, she couldn't wait to try it on. "That wouldn't be my first choice."

"That's what I was counting on. Drink plenty of water with your vitamins and, remember, no solid foods after your purging. Take all your medications three times a day - I'm afraid you'll find your body highly sensitive, so you might want to get some loose sweaters and skirts for when you're not in uniform. Lube up each time you put on your uniform, to help you get in the mood."

"You seem to have this game all planned out. But what makes you think we're playing this by your rules?"

"Because we both have a little secret, don't we. Legal outcomes aside, you know that my nanomites can destroy a building in a manner of hours. For any act of rebellion, I will destroy one building while its fully occupied. If you flee, or tell anyone else about our little game, then I'll destroy them all."

Fingers of ice crept up and down Alexa's body while Tate awaited his reply. She looked down at the case and ran her fingers across the mask. Alexa had observed for herself the power of Tate's "nanomites" to consume concrete, but they had left no trace in either the concrete or the vial which Nightvision had lifted from Tate's safe. It was as if the nanomites simply didn't exist, Alexa's failure to find any hard evidence directly contributed to Tate's early release.

"Okay, we play this your way. For now."

"Very good decision. You have a new bio-monitor in the case -- wear it at all times. It will verify that you are being faithful with your mediations."

"But you forgot one key part of why I like being Nightvision - when I outsmart the villain and his overly-complex deathtrap and kick his ass before sending him to jail for life."

"Yes," Landon turned cold. "There is no valor without hope hmmm dear Alexis. You'd better be off to your waxing ... it could be a busy week."

With that he hung up, leaving Alexa to stand awe struck at the sudden change of events. She set Tate's case down on the bed and held the trunks and top against her body in the mirror. Not surprisingly, the suit was a perfect fit, reinforced in just the right places to hug the contours of her body without binding or creeping. The faint zipper through the crotch was the only seam visibility on the amazing outfit. If she could somehow survive Tate's trap it would make and excellent addition to her collection, except that she would not have a duplicate copy of it for Alicia.

"Alicia," she whispered, feeling suddenly lonely for her sister. She wanted desperately to contact her, tell her everything. Enlist her aid in defeating Tate a second time. But it was too risky. Whatever sadistic plans Landon had in store for Nightvision, he was certainly demented enough to make good on his threat to level the city if she did anything other than surrender herself to his plans.

With a sigh she placed the costume pack in its case, and slipped a pair of sweats over her leotard. She had only read about these exclusive spa cleansing treatments in magazines but was confident the process would take hours. And it was looking like rain.

Nightvision stepped carefully out onto a steel utility bridge leading out over a deep pool and into the secure courtyard of the Wind River Nuclear power plant, its broad concrete walkways and deep storage lagoons for spent radioactive rods bathed in eerie greenish light from the strange glowing cloud that hung over the plant like a churning aurora borealis. Lightening danced in the distance all around as black hurricane clouds churned out a steady deluge of drowning rain. But no rain fell in the courtyard, just a hot dry wind and a powerful electric tension that told her she was finally at the eye of the storm.

The violent thunder storms had descended on Ansonia the same night Alexa got home from the "appointment," and it had gripped Ansonia in a maelstrom of driving rain and damaging winds for three days with no sign of relenting. It didn't take much imagination to guess who was truly behind the unnatural storm -- Tate was clearly manufacturing a threat to the city to force Nightvision into action and ultimately lure her into his perverted but highly lethal deathtraps. Alexa had managed to survive a string of kinky ordeals and had been rewarded with information leading her to the source of the storms - a huge steel transmission tower in the courtyard of the plant that was redirecting all of is power production into the atmosphere. She knew that it was here she could finally save Ansonia from the grip of the rising floodwaters and ravaging winds generated by Tate's weather machine. Assuming, of course, she could survive his next elaborate custom-designed deathtrap.

A rush of dark excitement shot through her body as she glanced at her own reflection in the water of the storage lagoon -- she had to admit she looked and felt like the ultimate heroic damsel in distress. Tate's top-dollar body suit clung to her like glossy leather, corset-tight around her waist to highlight the flare of her hips and highly elastic at the chest with integrated rubber support ridges to smoothly envelop her firm, spherical breasts. Her rock-hard nipples strained defiantly against the dark, iridescent fabric, and screeching owl on her chest rose and sank with her breathing. Her silky cape floated dramatically behind her and her runway-perfect hair flowed like molten copper over her shoulders as she scanned from side to side for signs off danger. Tate's cowl appeared as a seamless extension of her body suit, serving as both turtleneck collar and eye mask and making her already exotic green eyes seem huge. The rubbery material closely followed the contours of her youthful face so that none of her facial expressions were concealed. Alexa's sparkling bangs swooped all the way down to the top of her sad Romanian eyes knitted in secret arousal. The $80,000 of jewelry at her throat and ears glowed in the unnatural green twilight.

And if Tate's new costume played directly to Alexa's natural fetishes for sexy costumes, lavish jewelry, and extreme danger, then the cocktail of drugs amplified her erotic suffering 10-fold. Her engorged breasts and ovaries throbbed in response to the massive doses of synthetic hormones and her clit stood at stiff attention within the folds of her manicured pussy. She was continuously wet even without the compounding effect of the nano-lubricant, which left her hyper aware of her innermost recesses and its network of secret G spots. Only amazing material of her costume preserved her dignity, efficiently dissipating the moisture constantly building up around her nipples and sex. She had not been able to sleep since taking her initial regimen of drugs, and no amount of manual stimulation could even put a dent in her supercharged libido. Fortunately, Tate had left her little time for peaceful contemplation, preferring instead to call her into frequent action as Nightvision.

But, so far, Tate's planning had proven far more effective than his execution and Alexa had proven herself more than capable in outwitting a string of his half-baked erotic deathtraps. On her first morning she read in the papers that the pumps in the cities sewers were failing one by one, and she had faithfully donned her new Nightvision costume to investigate. But when she entered into the maze of tunnels beneath the city to investigate, she found that they were infested with paramilitary troops equipped with infrared goggles and armed with tranquilizing dart guns. The strong levels of undirected sexual arousal emanating from each of her opponents gave clear proof that they had instructions to rape or sexually abuse her upon capture, and all were eager to be first. Tate had clearly envisioned a sinister cat-and-mouse game with Nightvision fleeing desperately through the darkness until finally overcome by the effects of multiple dart strikes, then gang raped by her captors. Fortunately, to a powerful empath like Alexa, her opponents' strong emotions revealed their positions far better than the finest infrared equipment, and she soon discovered that that a maze of smaller sewer pipes interconnecting the larger tunnels provided the perfect opportunity to move from pump to pump all but unnoticed. She descended with eerie silence on the sole guards at each station and defused the explosives.

A few hours later she was called in to stop a runaway barge that was bearing down on a downtown bridge packed with creeping rush-hour traffic. Riding the high-powered Katana motorcycle Tate had provided as her new "official" vehicle, she had managed to intercept the barge just north of town and jumped aboard from a deserted overpass. To her distress, she found that the barge was loaded with heating oil and rigged to explode, its controls booby-trapped, and the vessel crawling with masked female ninjas. Their swords were blunted and instead delivered a powerful electric shock with each hit, and Alexa fought a pitched battle to reach the tiny control cabin, before falling victim to a trap door that opened beneath her feet. Surprisingly, she found herself, not in dire peril, but in a Hollywood-style bondage dungeon complete with a rack, padded riding horse, and burly well-oiled "executioners" in black hoods. The men had intended to bind her as soon she fell through the trap door but were apparently surprised by her early arrival. Nightvision took full advantage of their amateur disarray to stun them with the sword she still carried and chain them to their own toys. Even more surprising, they had built their "pleasure dungeon" directly beneath the main control cabin and the auxiliary control panel greeted her on the rear bulkhead. It was a simple mater to just turn the rudder hard left and run the floating bomb hard aground along the rain-swollen banks.

Next, Nightvision was summoned to negotiate a hostage situation at the Ansonia Museum of Natural History. Tate himself, concealed behind a terrorists mask, led a team that took 30 school children hostage in what was apparently a botched art heist, and in tense stand-off with police agreed to exchange them for Nightvision. He insisted that the media be present for her public surrender and watched with angry satisfaction as she was forced to bind herself on public television, first securing her ankles with steel manacles, then adding a slave collar and ball gag, before locking her own arms behind her back with more steel manacles and kneeling at the feet of her masked captors. Tate's men then descended upon her, added locks to her bondage and sealing her dramatically inside a padded "coffin" for transport to his secret lair.

But here again, Tate's libido betrayed him, for Alexa found herself not confronting imminent death, but in a spacious bedroom, clad only in a G-string and her pasties, bound spread-eagle in the center of a huge bed. Tate introduced her to his six "Tiger Lilies' -- the same Asian assassins she had fought on the barge -- who specialized in the erotic acupuncture and execution by complex manual constriction. At Tate's bidding, all six naked and oiled women descended on Alexa, licking, caressing, kissing and biting her body producing waves of arousal that the young vigilante could never have imagined, leading to hours of erotic acupuncture that stimulated her just as completely as Dr Benders emotion machine. However, Tate's assumption that Alexa would simply surrender to his erotic games again proved incorrect. Even as they removed her restraints to kill her in a sexy but impractical "human knot" the young vigilante overcame her well-oiled assailments and slipped out of the compound in one of their discarded ninja costumes.

That afternoon, an exhausted Nightvision had been summoned by Tate's radio unit to save a cruise ship foundering just off the coast of Ansonia. For the adventure, Tate had provided her with catsuit version of her sultry Nightvision costume and informed her that here motorcycle could also function as a personal war craft. One out to sea, she had been intercepted almost immediately by a squadron of shock troops also on water bikes and had been driven in a desperate chase into the center of a ring of fishing nets. Once the circle was closed, Nightvision's bike suddenly failed, leaving the sexy heroine suspended in a watery arena in the midst of a pack of huge sharks. Her only possible sanctuary from the mindless killing machines was a small research station positioned at the center of arena, bathed in searchlights to better film the deadly show.

The sharks were upon her almost immediately, circling around her in an ever-tightening ring then darting in for the kill. She had managed to fight them off for many tense minutes before one monster got a solid grip on her left arm, and Alexa was forced to confront her own imminent demise. Tate had other plans, though, as Alexa discovered to her relief and horror that the sharks teeth had been covered in serrated dentures of soft rubber, which protected her from their razor-sharp teeth while providing natural crevices to protect her from the worst pressure of their crushing jaws. Instead of being rent limb from limb, Alexa was pummeled, whipped and dragged through the water as the six sharks tried again and again to consume her the only way they could - whole. It was a brutal and no-doubt highly entertaining battle for those watching from the safety of the research facility as Alexa kicked spun and twisted away from the huge jaws of her ravenous attackers, on many occasions caught it in the middle off brutal tug-o-wars and finding herself sliding down the sucking gullet of one shark after another. On two occasions she got to enjoy the unique experience of the huge jaws closing down around her as her legs slipped treacherously down the soft gullet and as she finally neared the research station a her small rebreather was knocked from her mouth by a dual collision with charging sharks. It was in dramatic fashion that she finally made it to the airlock, narrowly escaping death at the hands of the pack but no doubt delivering herself to an even more fiendish fate at the hands of her former beau.

Exhausted, bruised and semi-conscious, Alexa was taken by burly guards in black rubber uniforms to the forward most chamber of the station which they called the "torpedo room." There she was greeted by what could only be described as a manned torpedo, a rocket-like cylinder with a sharply tapering windshield, miniature motorcycle handlebars, and scalloped banana seat with two foot rests set far back just front of the high-torque twin props. Like a racing bike, the rider would be almost horizontal on the sleek craft with her head tucked beneath the small wind screen and feet tailing behind with knees clamped around the contoured fuselage and pelvis nestled tightly in the padded seat. Unlike a racing bike, though, the handle bars and foot rests were equipped with wrist and ankle manacles on short chains and the seat featured a fat 10-inch studded dildo with a secondary suction cup for the rider's clit. Two chains secured to a rubber "pilots belt" allowed some slack for the occupant to struggle but not nearly enough to actually slip free of the vibrating phallus. A sleek visored helmet with an integrated water-tight rubber collar completed the set-up with two slim oxygen hoses ensuring she could breath for the duration of her brief journey on the human torpedo.

And it likely wouldn't be long, for the steering bar was locked in position with only minimal play and the nose of the craft was loaded with 500 pounds of high explosives, the craft computer programmed to home in on the luxury line CARIBBEAN DREAM waiting out the freak storm some 8 miles off the coast of Ansonia. Once launched, Alexa's stimulation would increase the closer she got to the cruise ship. She would have approximately 5 minutes of steadily mounting torture to somehow escape the torpedo or steer it with her minimal control to one side of the ship, causing the torpedo to turn about and home in again. And when Nightvision fled, or finally failed to steer the torpedo to one side, she would cause the deaths of thousands of innocent people.

Her cat suit had been equipped with a discrete crotch seam just like her primary uniform and she could only struggle hopelessly as she was led to the torpedo sub and secured into her custom-fitted helmet and bondage belt, then exposed to reveal her freshly trimmed, hyper-lubricated pussy. Eager hands groped her as she was drawn forcefully across the sub then positioned like a sprinter on the starting blocks until the head of the dildo parted her nether lips. She could not suppress her moans as she was slowly forced down on the huge dildo then chained in place at the waist with just enough slack to struggle erotically herself, with great effort, to within an inch of freedom but no closer. It certainly would have been a harrowing ride and Alexa could only shudder at the thought of the dildo coming to life inside her as she hurled toward the ship loaded with innocent tourists. But again, Tate's plan failed to take into account the talents of his would-be victim. It was a simple matter for Alexa to telepathically pull the "release" lever before her bondage was secured dropping the torpedo bike prematurely into the launch tube. A moment later she activated the engine and surged out the underwater facility and into the open ocean, the warhead still deactivated in the nose of her craft.

Is was less than 8 hours after pulling herself exhausted onto the shore of Cardemon Beach that Alexa was once again summoned to suit up as Nightvision to confront yet another of Tate's perils. Despite all of Alexa's successes, the rain itself continued to relentlessly pound Ansonia, and within 24 hours all the area rivers and streams would overflow their banks, driving a general evacuation and mass havoc. Tate had sent Nightvision the plan's for his "weather machine," a network of 6 towers distributed on the hilltops surrounding the Wind River nuclear plant and controlled by a central tower in the plant's central courtyard dedicated to deep water storage lagoons for spend nuclear fuel. Whatever perils awaited Nightvision in the courtyard, at least she could take some comfort from the fact that regardless of the outcome, the 4-day storm that had gripped her adopted city would soon be over.

"Tate?!" Alexa called out, her lush Romanian accent sounding much calmer than she felt. "Tate come on out - we have to talk! There is something very strange about your plans for this rain machine."

But Alexa's call was answered only by the powerful electric buzz emanating from the tall thin tower, its crowned by a huge ball of green ionized gas like a golf tall on tall tee. Her boots crunched on the sandpaper strips lining the arcing bridge and she risked only a furtive glance over her shoulder as heavy bolts within door to the courtyard shot into the door frame sealing the young vigilante inside. A wave of dizziness washed through her as she forced herself to focus on the details of the trial that awaited her.

The courtyard was laid out like a 3-by-3 grid of square deep-water containment pools, each dedicated to the storage of a generation of spent fuel rods. The pools were subdivided by broad concrete walkways and high concrete walls rose all around her like a maximum security prison. The base of Tate's tower emerged from the water of the center pool and extended over a hundred feet skyward to the huge greenish plasma ball, it sickly light reflecting off the glassy smooth surfaces of the storage lagoons. The tower was apparently held aloft by means of four cables, each secured to an iron drainage grate in one corner of the courtyard. The stifling air smelled heavily of ozone, oil, and hot metal. High up on each wall was a guard post balcony and as soon as the door locked shut behind Nightvision, a pair of paramilitary guards stepped out onto each balcony, clad in black rubberized body armor, their faces concealed behind mirrored visors. Eight high-powered rifles were trained on Alexa as she moved off the bridge and put her hands on her hips. Despite their masks she could sense with her empathetic powers their heightened state of anticipation and arousal as if it was her own, could almost feel the track of their eyes as they drank in the vision of their gorgeous victim.

"I see you've found my weather machine, Nightvision. Now all you have to do is destroy it." The two guard immediately in front of Alexa removed their helmets to reveal that they were none other than Landon Tate and his hired French assassin, Calypso.

"Landon, you can have your fun with me, but there's something you need to know."

Landon cut her off. "It should be simple enough --- I've even allowed you access to the courtyard. You'll find an acetylene cutting torch in your utility belt. It should make quick work of the guy wires supporting the tower. When the tower falls the rain will be over for good."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you Landon," Alex's voice was steady as she glanced briefly at the wires supporting the tower. Each was some 30 feet from the base of the tower itself, leaving a circumference of 300 feet that she would have to traverse to reach each one. It would take perhaps two minutes to cut through each cable - perhaps 12 minutes of work total, assuming Tate allowed her to work in peace. "This device - I've looked at the plans - its CAN'T be generating the rain."

"Now Alexa, why worry your pretty little head about things you can't control. Might want to save you energy to work about things like this."

At the push of a button the water around the base of the tower began to churn and boil. A moment later a mass of long thin cables shot out of the water shooting to almost half the height of the tower, followed by a second layer of cables, apparently ticker and with uniquely designed tips. If took Alexa a moment to realize that the forest of mini-towers weren't just cables - they were tentacles, robotic manipulators clad in some kind of greenish rubbery substance to make them look alive. The longest of the tentacles were of the same long graceful shape like enormous whips, but with a high degree of flexibility toward the ends to better grasp at its prey. The shorter tentacles were heavier and more specialized in their function, some lined with suction cups clearly intended for grasping, while others seemed to end in gaping mouths opening and closing on open air. Still others were almost certainly sexual probes, with various sizes and structures to violate her body in every manner possible. At first the nest of tentacles seemed to flair randomly about the courtyard, but quickly converged toward her.

"My God, Landon, what have you done."

"Isn't is magnificent?" Tate preened as Alexa dropped to her guard. "I call this the Guardian, the very latest in pneumatics, robots, and artificial intelligence. I call it a robot, but it is, in fact, 40 distinct robots, one for each manipulator, each programmed to pursue its own objectives while also supporting the objectives of the whole."

Satisfied that their target was acquired the heavier tentacles withdrew, probably realizing that they were out of range and pulling bock to free up energy for the longer tentacles to do their work. "And their objective is to protect the Tower."

"Very astute. Once you move against the tower you will draw the undivided attention of the entire collective, though you'll find that each robot has a strong preference for what they want to do with you. Only a few want to kill you quickly, others are programmed to maximize your suffering, while many are programmed to maximize their sexual pleasure or yours. You'll soon become intimately familiar with which is which."

Nightvision stepped slowly toward one of the guy wires there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Regardless of the risks, the quicker she took down the tower and less time Tate's innovative but highly complex robot would have to work her over. Like his other traps, the robots would almost certainly not attempt to kill her immediately, so the quicker she worked the better.

"So who sold you this robot, Landon? Calypso? I thought it was you who wanted to do the raping . yourself."

Alexa whipped out the cutting torch and pressed it against one of the wires. The response of the 4 longest tentacles was almost instantaneous, throwing their long thin bodies at her like 50-foot bull whips. One struck the floor just inches from where she stood. Another came in sideways, forcing Nightvision to jump over it like a jump rope. Another lateral chop forced her to briefly move the torch away from the sturdy cable, but she was back at it quickly. She repositioned her body so that the cable itself provided some protection against sweeping strikes from the tentacles, but glancing blows were inevitable. The material coating the tentacle was soft and much slimier than Alexa would have anticipated and the force from each blow was surprisingly light for such a long and certainly heavy robot. Yet it was amazing how the 6 long tentacles worked together to attempt ensnare her, two writhing on the ground hoping to ensnare her feet while 4 others attempted to swat at her like the tail of an enormous cow swatting a fly. It was certainly more than she would have expected Tate to be capable of.

"I've recently learned not to underestimate you. Besides, there is a certain intrinsic pleasure in just watching you suffer - watch out behind."

A well coordinated double attack sent Alexa spinning away from the cable at the same time that one of the lower tentacles succeeded in wrapping itself around one of her boots. Nightvision landed in a heap and the tentacle quickly improved its grip on her ankle. An overhead smash crashed down a hairsbreadth away from her body and this afforded Lenexa a split-second to apply her torch to the tentacle. It recoiled quickly, just like it was alive. Fresh terror swept through Nightvision's mind as she struggled with ramifications.

But the renewed fury of the tentacles left her precious little time for contemplation. She bear crawled back to the cable and renewed her efforts of cable, melting through strand after strand of steel. A swing of a tentacle drove her hard to the ground and another blew her backward as stars danced before her eyes, but each time she returned to the cable and after several long minutes she finally succeeded in severing the first cable with a loud twang.

"Tate, this Sentinel, did it come from the same place the weather machine came from? And the cement mites?"

Suddenly deprived of the natural cover afforded by the cable itself, Alexa suddenly found herself converged on from several directions at once. A low-high combination spun her head over heels and in a moment of dazed uncertainly, one of the "sleeper" tentacles wrapped itself firmly around her feet. When she attempted to reach down to pry against its grip she was struck twice with stinging precision and one of her wrists was ensnared. Alexa repeatedly tried to rise on all fours to scamper away, but was swatted down each time and jerked powerfully back toward the center reservoir. One tentacle threaded itself in neat rows around her knees, allowing the tentacle at her ankles to briefly disengage and wrap itself with similar precision around both ankles. Now much more tightly snared Alexa was dragged struggling desperately toward the nest.

"Tate, this isn't a robot," Alexa hissed as she turned her cutting torch toward the third long tentacle that had one of her wrists. "This is alive. Its some kind of monster!"

Instead of getting her wrist free, Alexa got only a nasty swipe from one of the unengaged tentacles. The soft flesh at its tip drew away to reveal a long stinger dripped with venom. The young heroine just managed to catch the stinger-tipped tentacle and prevent the horror from plunging the stinger into her chest. Instead she quickly jabbed it into the tentacle encircling her knees and was rewarded by a sudden release.

"You can dish it out ."The already winded heroine said, "But you cant' take it." The second tentacle held on longer under the heat of the torch but finally relented, allowing Nightvision to struggle free and charge to the second cable.

"Its Calypso isn't it. She sold you all these wonder? Didn't she?"

Alexa had one gloved hand on the cable when a tentacle wrapped itself firmly around her midsection and pulled her toward the nest. A second tentacle wrapped itself around her ankles and she was slowly lifted into the air, still clinging to the cable with one hand and applying the welder to the cable. Her narrow profile made it difficult to swat at her directly, but one tentacle finally ripped the cape from her back and sent her expensive broach flying into one of the lagoons.

The bizarre tug of war continued for several tense seconds until Tate and Alexa were met with a nasty surprise. Heavy, thicker shafts coated with the same slimy green flesh suddenly burst out of the storage lagoons to either side of the Nightvision and wrapped themselves around her knees, pulling her legs apart as much as her ankle restraints would allow, their slimy tips stroking against the silky crotch of her uniform clearly seeking to penetrate her.

"Mhhhh " Nightvision grimaced as she struggled to maintain her grip on the cable until her torch did its work. "Ahhhh please Mhhhh."

The strands parted one by one, and the mysterious Sentinel sent two more thinner tentacles surging up through the churning water to wrench her free. They alternated lashing out at the masked vigilante with precise whipping motions targeting her exposed back and chest. After a few strokes one tentacle wrapped itself around her wrist at the point where she gripped the cable. Almost every inch of her body below her bust line was enveloped in slimy green tentacles, and even Tate was taken aback at how quickly his sexy enemy was enveloped.

"So Calypso, where ... are these extra robotic arms coming from?"

Calypso's smile was icy cold. "What does it matter? You said yourself that you didn't want any chance of her escaping. So I took a few extra precautions."

"Ahhh! Mhhh!"

But Calypso's precautions couldn't spare the second support cable. With a final TWANG! it yielded the blistering flame off Nightvision's cutter, sending shudders through the glowing tower and forcing the tentacles to convulse as if they too had been injured. Unfortunately, it also deprived Alexa of her only solid grip. Deprived of the cable she was quickly dragged toward the base do of the tower, where a dozen other tentacles rose eagerly out of the water to greet her.

"Tate, those nanomite - did you get them from Calypso as well? And the ahhh weather machine?! They are all fake!"

"What is she talking about?" Tate mused with a quizzical smile.

"Just the cries of a doomed girl pleading for her life, Landon. It means nothing."

"Landon, you have to LISTEN to me . I .. ughhhh." But Alexa's cries were cut short as highly specialized tentacles descended toward her wrapping firmly around her wrists, ankles, knees and waist, then lifting her skyward and drawing her into a spread eagle as she was carried out over the central pool so that all the robot-horror's appendages to gain optimal access to her body. A forest of smaller tentacles greeted her each coiling and slithering over her body. These smaller probes found the leg holes of her of her uniform and slipped inside. Nightvision shuddered deliciously as probes slipped into her pussy and ass, and small bulges beneath the skintight fabric marked the progress of other tentacles and they crept upward to encircle her breasts.

"My god Uhhhhh," the masked avenger arched her back and twisted hopelessly in her restraints as the probes moved deeper and deeper inside her. The success of the probes had drawn the attention of another set of tentacles, clearly designed for erotic torture, with long knobbed shafts tipped with balls and alive with wriggling tendrils. So transfixed on the erotic probed rising from beneath her that Alexa almost missed another set of probes converging on her from all directions. These ended with large steel needles that rhythmically extended and withdraw like the stinger of a bee, centered in midst of large slimy suction cups. She only noticed them as another delicate tentacle descended from above to encircle her throat, drawing up her vision.

"Isn't this a little .. impersonal Tate," Nightvision managed to lock gazes with her captor.

"Why would you say that," Tate said. "We'll all right here, waiting for you to escape." He motioned to the eight other snipers all watching Nightvision's suffering with great interest. "Then we'll get to kill you ourselves."

"Glad to hear you have such confidence in me."

"Care to share with us just how far those worms have climbed up inside you?"

"About half as high as my boot going to go up your ass."

Two of the four support cables were still in place, but Alexa was still able to seize one of the loose cables as the seven restraint cables maneuvered her randomly about the base of the tower. It was surprisingly lightweight and Alexa's restraints left her just enough room to suddenly whip out with the line, missing Tate by catching Calypso full in the forehead. The mysterious French woman toppled to the concrete floor some 15 feet below the balcony where she and Landon had been watching Nightvision's ordeal. The moment Calypso's body hit the ground, the mass of tentacles suddenly released Alexa, allowing her to tumble in the storage lagoon beneath her feet.

"You bitch!" Tate howled, as Alexa emerged from the water, withdrew her back up cutter and quickly sliced through the third cable. Deprived of three fourths of its support and strangely weighed down by the glowing green orb, the tower wavered and teetered around its anchor point before finally succumbing to gravity and crashing against one of the concrete walls. The green light dissipated almost immediately and the tower disintegrated into ribbons of steel.

For long moments there was nothing. Then the crash of thunder, close and oppressive, then again. And again.

"See, Landon. This machine is nothing but a prop. A prop to deceive you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Its Calypso. She told you all these things she's selling you are high tech, but they're not. They're very OLD tech. Dark sorcery."

"Thank you very much for your interpretation, Nightslut. Boys, gun her down."

Alexa looked about the room, powerless to stop them. But the men did nothing. They just appeared as if they were frozen in place."

"Sorry, Landon," Calypso said as she gained her feet. Half of her face was smeared with blood from a nasty gash on her temple, but her eyes flowed with evil fire, her pupils huge. "But I'm afraid I can't let you do that?"

"Do what?" Landon was incredulous. "Kill this bitch? After what she just did to you?"

"Such gallantry," Calypso grinned. "But unnecessary. Its nothing compared to what I have planned for HER."

Calypso raised her arms over her head. Suddenly all the storage lagoons erupted with think trunks of writhing tentacles, some towering hundreds of feet in the air. From these great trunks sprang a legion of long thin whipping tentacles. They struck out at Alexa again and again, sending her spinning, then crushing her to the grounds. She was struck again and again as she tried to get up then knocked across the room only to find herself the target of the same attack from another off the central pillars.

"Its really quite humorous," Calypso walked slowly toward Nightvision, escorting her about the court yard as the masked vigilant was whipped and beaten without mercy. "Perhaps the best joke I've seen in several centuries. A witch - a TUPOLOV witch - masquerading as a superheroine! How rich."

The whip-tendrils wrapped tightly around Alexa's arms and legs, and Calypso lifted her prisoner's head by the hair, forcing her to lock gazes. "I never would have guessed except that when you manipulated the controls in Landon's submarine trap, you called upon a Defiler Imp, one of the few familiars that will help without being commanded. When it suits their fancy."

"Calypso what are you doing?!" Tate was stunned. "We had a deal!"

"Now, We have a NEW deal. I'm taking your little pet, Mr Tate. I've always wanted a an eager young pupil."

"No one double crossed me, Calypso. No one."

The French witch turned slowly, her eyes filled with ageless malice. "Temper Temper, Mr Tate. Just for that, I going to have to destroy your precious city."

She raised her arms once again and uttered a phrase in a strange ancient tongue that caused the air itself to crackle and hiss. The 20-foot writhing trunks of tentacles surged skyward again, and that their tips the sky once again assumed a greenish hue. The wind picked up all around and even invaded the courtyard of the nuclear plant, whipping Nightvision's discarded cape into the corner and plucking at the clothes of Tate's immobilized guards.

"Unfortunately, no one must know that I have a Tupolov witch as my extended guest Within minutes, all of Ansonia will be ravaged by cyclones. And I have designated one specifically to destroy your, Landon. A fitting end destroyed along with the city your father built."

"Now you're both crazy and dead." Tate pulled out his gun only to have it suddenly wrenched from his hand by an unseen assailant."

"My legions are all around this place, Landon, and I think you'll find they are a bit better heeled than Alexa's lone, untrained Defiler Imp." Lightening and thunder rolled almost constantly all around them, accompanied by something else, a low rumbling like a freight train. "I'd suggest you get moving - unless you want your private tornado to breach this nuclear containment facility. Its quite potent, I'm afraid."

Calypso immediately dismissed the stunned business mogul and turned her attention to Nightvision still secured in two tentacles and kneeling at her feet. "And you my dear - I've brought you something very special."

She produced an ornate ebony box and opened it for Nightvision to view. In the box resting on a red velvet lining, were two slave bracelets, cleverly hinged on one side but with no apparent locking mechanism on the other. "These are Bracelets of the Djinn. Once they are on your wrists you will be my slave forever, bound to do my bidding. It will also drain you mind of all knowledge of your previous life I will teach you everything you need to know. Everything the Elder Counsel SHOULD have taught you."

Calypso leaned in close, breathing sweetly into Alexa's ear. "And you will grow VERY powerful, Tupolov witch, perhaps even more powerful than I. But that won't matter, for you will be bound to me -- sexy body, brilliant mind, and evil soul. Extend her wrists."

"This will never work Calypso!" Alexa tried to remain defiant as we arms were slowly extended to bare her wrists. "I will never be your pawn."

"No," Calypso agreed, "You'll be much less than that. My every wish will be your deepest commands. You will worship me utterly and humiliate and defile yourself at my will. You will be my greatest weapon, and live the life of my most pathetic, lowly slave. Sound like fun?!"

"Yea, a real blast." Alexa pulled at her restraints but was held inescapably tight as Calypso took up the bracelets with a look of great care - it was clear she understood just how dangerous the bracelets could be. Alexa renewed her struggles but she had all but reached the limit of her endurance. Defeating deathtrap after deathtrap had finally worn her down the breaking point. She would just have to hope there was some gaps in the capability the bracelets to bend her will to Calypso's. She could only watch with her teeth gritted as the bracelets came close and closer to her wrists, drawing her ever closer to the eternal life of a magical servant.


Calypso was thrown forward by the sudden impact of two high velocity rounds and let out an animal scream. Landon Tate still stood in a prone position on one balcony near where he had taken a rifle from one of the paralyzed guards. But she straightened up almost immediately and turned to address her treacherous attacked, any trace of humanity drained from her voice.

"Foolish worm, do you think your pathetic toys can stop Calypso? Now I will show what it really means to suffer. Come and kneel before me." Landon Tate stood motionless on the balcony for a moment, matching wills with the ancient sorceress. "Jump." After a moments more hesitation, Tate took a step forward, hurling himself to a hard bond-cracking landing on the ground below.


The ancient sorceress looked down to dumbly to see the bracelets secured around her own wrists, just beneath Nightvision's black-gloved hands. In the moment of confusion, Alexa had managed to free herself just enough to pull the bracelets from Calypso's grasp and turn them to her advantage. "No his can't be she looked suddenly confused, the anger draining from her voice, I'm . I'm."

"Fucked," Alexa offered. "At least I hope so."

"Welll I . I."

The remaining tentacles still clutching at Nightvision fell away, allowing the teenage avenger to regain her feet and some semblance of dignity.

"You are my slave. My servant. Isn't that right."

"Your servant? No, I'm ."

"Nothing. You are nothing. But I have something I want you to do."

"Yes mistress. Of course."

"I want to you to transport this Sentinel back to the dimension it is rooted in. And I want you to go with it, sealing the portal behind you. Do you understand?"

"Yes that should be simple. As you wish Mistress."

"And you are to wait for me there, slave. You are NOT to return to this world until I give you permission. Do you understand."

"Yes, yes mistress. That would please you?"

"Yes, I will be very pleased."

With a look of almost stupid delight at the thought of pleasing Alexa, Calypso utter a long series of power words, once again causing the very air around them to crackle and squeal with mystical power. The hundreds of arms comprising the Sentinel slowly plunged impossible back down into the storage lagoons, and then with a flash of light disappeared altogether. Calypso followed a moment later disappearing into a flash of light.

With the disappearance of Calypso and her hellish pet the sky all around the facility went quiet and dark. A final roll of thunder reverberated off the far hills, then all went quite for the first time in almost a week. Ansonia was saved.

"And you, asshole." Nightvision limped over to where Tate had hit the pavement to find him rolling around in pain from a clearly broken leg. Alexa pulled a pair of handcuffs considerately included by Tate himself in her new utility belt and used them to secure his arms. "You are under arrest."