The Amazing Story of the Amazing Awesome Girl

Have I ever told you that I am the best sneaker ever! Because I totes am.

Sneak, sneak, sneak, I went as I moved past the rows of beds filled with sleeping women, and I didn't even hum my theme tune or anything.

And it's a really great theme tune. It goes, "Na na, na na naa."

Oops, wait, there I went. I looked around. No one heard; everyone still slept. Still best sneaker ever! Go team Awesome Girl!

That's me by the way, Awesome Girl. Okay, technically I'm Henchgirl Number Thirty Two but that's just until everyone notices my intrinsic awesomeness and I get promoted to sidekick with a proper back story and everything. And I've got a brilliant one all worked out; it's even better than my theme tune.

It involves aliens, orphans and being raised by sharks. How cool is that? No played out wolves for this girl.

I reached the dormitory door. There was a sign on it. It read, 'All Henchgirls must be in bed by 9pm. No exceptions!'

Well, that clearly didn't apply to me. After all I was the amazing Awesome Girl, and despite what everyone else might currently think, I was no mere henchgirl.

Just as I was congratulating myself on my awesome logic, I noticed the second sign. It read, 'This includes you, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two.'

Perhaps it meant a different Henchgirl Number Thirty Two?

I noticed the third sign. 'There is only one Henchgirl Number Thirty Two.'

Oh, screw it. I ripped all three signs off the door and set them on the floor, face down. The perfect crime! I could just say they fell off and that I never saw them. Awesome Girl: mistress of sneaking, defeater of signs, pull-er-off-er of escapes.

Cackling to myself, I fled the dormitory filled with sleeping henchgirls, and moved into the corridor outside.

So I suppose I should explain a bit about where I am. I'm in the top secret, super hidden base of Mistress Nightshade, evil genius extraordinaire.

The other henchgirls and I are her army of loyal minions. Well, loyalish. Fairly loyal? Okay, it is a good day if we are only on the take from one rival super-villain, international spy ring or criminal syndicate. But have you seen our pay and benefits package? We barely get dental! We do get uniforms, though.

I, like all the henchgirls, wore the standard minion costume. Well technically all the other henchgirls were currently wearing their regulation issue nighties and fuzzy slippers, it being bed time and all, but in general I mean.

It is a pretty good uniform, truth be told — sort of steampunky and cut to show off my amazing bod. Certainly like a bajillion times better than the bug body-suits the Queen Bee makes her minions wear or the soooooo out of date disco suits Eighties Queen foists on her staff.

It consisted of black thigh high boots with good stomping heels covered in shining metal buckles, a short leather skirt, a vest that left my stomach bare, a tool belt hung with all our special toys and a set of goggles with some cool heads up displays.

Which I totally do not use to watch porn while on duty, no matter what that disciplinary report said. Just because it has titties and cocks doesn't mean it's not art, people!

Anyway, the uniform was good for many things, including cunning plans.

The hallways were abandoned this late at night; Mistress Nightshade was very strict when it came to bed times. That made sneaking easier. Even someone not as amazing as me could probably manage it.

I prowled all silent like along the halls, heading for the central control hub. I had a plan, you see. Indeed it was no ordinary plan. It was a cunning plan, devised by the razor sharp mind of that oh-so-sexy, oh-so-smart and oh-so-amazing villianness (not quite yet) known as Awesome Girl.

I'd sneak in, power-up Mistress Nightshade's back door connection to the Nerdvana Network and by morning the name Awesome Girl would be trending big time, catapulting me straight to sidekick status.

Don't know what the Nerdvana Network is? That's the biz term for the Mockingbird tweeters — those ubiquitous digital shrines and wi-fi hubs. You know, those black and red tents that give you free wi-fi if you tweet hashtag #MockingbirdIsGreat, or whatever the current meme is, a few times. I doubt I'd get the divinity by popular acclamation deal Mockingbird has going on, but it would certainly do wonders for my rep and who knew, perhaps I would soon be shouting go Goddess Awesome Girl.

The first real problem happened when I reached the control hub's main door. It was the big, mean grandpappy of doors — hulking, covered in thick black armour and, worst of all, with a large frowny face front and centre. How is a peppy go getter like me meant to get up to mischief with that kind of negativity getting me down? It's called employee motivation, people!

Luckily, I, in my infinite wisdom, knew there was a second way in. A few weeks back, while Mistress Nightshade was babbling on about 'vital briefing' this and 'important role' that, I grew so bored I read the health and safety posters. As such I knew there was an emergency exit from the control hub.

Humming my theme song under my breath, I scurried down the corridor and slipped through a service door into the industrial guts of the building.

I know; I know. Ew, nude old building. Say no to GILF porn.

From there it was only a short hop to the fire access stairway and an even shorter run down a flight of stairs to the fire door. I forced it open with my all access Minion's Friend (TM) multi-tool and darted inside. Needless to say, I did it like a boss.

This late at night, the control hub was abandoned. Two stories of computer monitors, projectors, smart tables and holo-screens snored the electronic buzz of sleeping machines. The screens were black, the only lights lethargic diodes.

Now which one was the Nerdvana back door again... No idea. Oh well.

I moved to the nearest control panel and started pushing buttons at random until I got a reaction. Lights flickered and the main screen burst to life.

'Password...'

Let's see.

'Awesome Girl Is Awesome,' I typed.

'Password Incorrect. 2 Attempts Remaining.'

Nuts. Well, not everyone can use a password as amazing as mine, and if they did, it wouldn't make a very good password any more would it. Logic, bitches.

Maybe 'Awesome Girl Is Very Awesome'? But, no, too obvious. Perhaps, 'Awesome Girl Has An Amazing Butt'? Also true but Mistress Nightshade always seemed more a tit woman to me...

Really, now that I thought about it and I know this might be hard to believe, but just perhaps and despite how incredibly amazing I am, Mistress Nightshade had chosen a password that wasn't about me.

Slowly I typed, 'Big Mean Boss'.

'Password incorrect. Counter measures engaged.'

No fair! I had one guess left.

A metallic arm unfolded from the ceiling and grabbed for me. I let loose a fearsome battle cry that was in no way like a girlish shriek and dove for cover under the nearest desk. I almost made it too but the claw snagged my ankle and pulled me kicking and screaming out. It hoisted me up and left me hanging suspended in the air.

Damn stupid cheating uppity robots. Never should have given them the vote. Well, it might have me trapped but not for long.

I drew my raygun from my toy belt and pointed it at the joint where the arm emerged from the ceiling. But first... I pulled down my goggles and flicked the switch for eye protection mode. The world darkened. Eye safety kids; remember, only play with lasers if you're as awesome as me! Or, you know, if your laser is like really, really cool because lets face it, lasers are pretty damn fun. You are all pow-pow and your enemies are all 'ah we're burning, we're burning!' And your all like 'bow down before me puny mortals for I have a laser-gun'.

Anyway...

Zap! I squeezed the trigger and the miniature pulse laser spat photonic death. The claw melted into super-heated gunk and I smashed into the floor head first.

Ow, ow, ow. I rubbed my head until the dozen tiny birds stopped spamming popular hashtags at me. Problem averted. Go team Awesome Girl!

The main door clunked as the immense servo motors pulled it open. I gulped, scrabbled to my feet and turned.

From one floor above, Mistress Nightshade glared down at me. Oh a-not-very-nice-word-indeed. The metal toe of her boot clicked like a clock against the floor.

So, yeah, I was busted big time. Under Mistress Nightshade's piercing gaze, all I could do was quail in my big stomping shoes, which I felt almost ready to disappear into.

"Henchgirl Number Thirty Two," she said in a voice that felt like a cracking whip. I'm fairly sure Mistress Nightshade's secret identity is an English governess in some rich nob's house.

"Yes, miss," I sort of whispered.

"What," she said, ruby-red lips pursing, "is the meaning of this?"

"Don't know, miss."

"You don't know?" She shook her head. "You don't know why you are in the central control hub, after lights out, standing before a locked computer and surrounded by the smouldering remains of a security arm."

"No, miss."

She paused, green eyes narrowing. "Do you know what it looks like to me?"

I didn't answer.

"To me," she continued. "It looks like you are out of bed, again, and once more up to your infernal mischief-making. What exactly do you think it will take to teach you proper behaviour? More fines? More demerits? Do you want to go back to working at McDonalds?"

I mumbled something.

"What was that?" Her voice felt like a slap.

"I'm a kinaesthetic learner, miss."

"Henchgirl Number Thirty Two," she said. "Despite what you apparently think, kinaesthetic learning is not a licence for rule breaking, but perhaps you are right. If you learn from tactile experience, perhaps that is the correct way to teach you. Follow."

Under Mistress Nightshade's watchful gaze, I trudged up the hub's internal staircase and followed her out the door. She led me to a small room near her quarters that I had never been to before. The bolts holding the door shut swooshed back at her approach, which was just totally unfair. Didn't even need to use a multi-tool.

In we went, this time with Mistress Nightshade following. She prodded me until I stood in the centre of the room. Above, light panels swelled to life. I looked up and noticed a security arm hole, currently irised closed. Because that wasn't worrying at all.

"Hands in the air," said Mistress Nightshade.

I gulped but under her piercing green eyes I had no choice.

Up my arms went and down came the security arm. It made a mechanical swishing sound and the rubbery, claw like grip snapped closed around my wrists. It hummed and drew me up, not very far but enough that my heels no longer quite touched the ground. I balanced on the balls of my feet.

Mistress Nightshade stood before me, so tall and majestic. She was taller than me at just under six feet in her heels, but she had the kind of presence that always let her be the tallest in the room, no matter the actual heights of the people involved, you know? Her hair was straight, black and long, her face aristocrat sharp, and her make-up perfect. Only her nose was slightly out of place, being a cute button thing. She lacked my scrumdiliumcious curves, with small breasts and narrow hips, but she made it work for her.

"Now," said Mistress Nightshade and a breathy note entered her normally whip-crack voice. Her high-heeled boots clacked as she walked a circle around me. "What are we going to do with you..."

Click, click, click. I stretched my neck to follow her but the security arm made that impossible. Her eyes drilled sharp into the back of my head and I shivered.

I felt a presence at my back and then she was there. She reached around me, arms tickling my sides, and her hands closed on my breasts. She squeezed down, just for a moment, but I moaned and squirmed a little. Then she was gone.

Click, click, click.

She came back into my field of view and stripped me. Off came my boots, socks, skirt and under-things. Down went all my toys, such as my raygun and all access Minion's Friend (TM) multi-tool. Where my bondage prevented the removal of my vest and goggles, she produced a knife and sliced them away. Shredded cloth fell like confetti around me. All too soon I was completely naked. I shivered in the iron grip of the security arm. Trapped as I was, escape was impossible.

Next she walked over a blank section of wall and brushed it with the back of one alabaster hand. A hidden drawer swooshed out. My eyes opened wide. It was filled with whips. Her fingers moved along the instruments, toying with the bamboo shafts of canes, the thin wood of switches and the leather grips of long terrifying things. Finally she came to rest on the ribbed rubber grip of a short riding crop.

She drew it out and my eyes glued to the tip. The leather sung to me, called to me. My breath caught in my throat and I shivered at the ghosts of the blows to come. So I like a bit of kink; it is all part of being the amazing Awesome Girl.

"How old are you, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two?" she asked, the tip of her whip trailing across my naked breasts.

"Twenty two, miss." The skin touched by her whip danced with a thousand sparking needles.

"Twenty two and still all the self control of a teenager." She struck and the riding crop left a stinging pink patch on my bubble butt. I yelped and jerked in my bondage. When I regained my balance, I was panting for breath.

"Do you know why you are here now?" she asked.

My clitty buzzed and I could feel dampness on my thighs. "Is it cake?" I asked.

That brought Mistress Nightshade up short. "What? Why would it be cake?"

"Because cake is awesome. You have chocolate cake and banana cake. You have carrot cake and cherry cake. You even have—" and here my voice dropped to a hushed whisper "—red velvet cake.

Even Mistress Nightshade seemed a bit tempted at the last. "It's not cake okay! I don't think you quite get the context here."

Oh, yeah, the whip.

"You have been a bad, bad girl," she said and started to circle me again. Click, click, click went her heels. The head of the crop dragged against my flesh, the bending part straining and relaxing as it pulled up and down the contours of my body. "I have tried explanations. I have tried conventional punishments. But you do not learn. I think it is clear something more serious is in order."

Again she struck out and the crop kissed my other butt cheek. Its lips were fire and I squirmed in the most delicious way. Have I ever told you: I am the best subby ever, because I totes am. In fact, I am all kinds of awesome.

"Discipline," said Mistress Nightshade, "that is what you need." She extended the crop and flicked the tip across one of my hard nipples. It only stung a little, but that wasn't the point. She swooped forward, bent slightly and drew her tongue up the curve of my neck.

Fucking wow. My knees just about gave out.

Click, click, click. Again with the circling. Her fingers bit into my butt like sharpened claws.

"Do you need discipline, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two? Do I need to make you learn?"

I could feel her breath at my neck, cold against where she'd licked.

"And how do you learn, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two? You said it yourself. You're a 'kinaesthetic learner'. You learn by doing. You learn by experiencing. You learn by feel." She bit my earlobe hard, her small, sharp teeth sinking deep. Just as quickly she was gone and two more blows exploded against my ass. My flesh burned.

Tears made my vision a bit blurry so I only saw a black and white blur when she came back into view. Despite that, I could feel her majesty. She stood before me, an evil genius to make the superheroes quail. She ran the crop over my thin arms, stretched high above my head. She ran the crop over my legs, the muscles taught from standing on the balls of my feet. She ran the crop over my needy sex, now dripping with juices.

"Punishment," she said, "discipline. These are how children learn, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two, and despite your age, you are very much a child." She reversed the crop in her grip and lifted the rounded end to my face. It dragged at my lower lip, partly opening my mouth to show my pearly chompers. "Suck."

The rubber was warm from her hand. I bobbed forward and swallowed the handle whole. It disappeared and I swirled my tongue around it, like it was a little cock. I even bobbed back and forward a bit, at least as much as my security arm induced bondage would allow. Yeah, I like to put on a bit of a show; I'm awesome like that.

After a few seconds Mistress Nightshade withdrew the crop. It shone with saliva and a glistening chain hung between my pouting lips and the rounded base.

"You are a child, yes," she said, "but you are also a woman, and that means I can be especially creative with my punishments."

She pressed the rounded base of the crop against my sex. It split my nether lips, not a lot but enough so I could feel its size. Our eyes met, hers so vividly green they stole my breath, and she pushed.

The crop plundered my body, so fucking huge. She pushed and pushed, splitting me open and splitting me deep.

I gasped and my knees disappeared out from under me. As it fucked me, I let loose pathetic little moan after pathetic little moan.

Mistress Nightshade smiled. With a liquid squelching sound, she pulled the crop out again. If it was wet before, it was now sodden.

She tisked. "Someone is a very bad girl." She set to fucking me in earnest.

In out, in out, the crop went. It was thick and long. The ribbed rubber handle scraped against my liquid internal walls. I managed to find my feet again but it didn't do me much good. The crop battered me, fucked me, ravaged me. It melted my sex, fired up my clitty and made my knees feel like water.

I moaned. Mistress Nightshade fucked me harder. She twisted the crop as she thrust it in and out my body. I moaned louder still.

And then-

And then-

I exploded. My legs vanished. My body shook. I came my brains out. Then—

Black.

The world returned I don't know how long later. I hung limp from my wrists, my shoulders burning and sex still stuffed like a Christmas turkey.

Seeing my returning consciousness, Mistress Nightshade withdrew the crop from my sodden sex and held the end up to my mouth. Drops of cunt-juice dripped from it and splashed against the floor. I read the command in her eyes. 'You know what to do.' They were right.

I stuck out my tongue and licked the proffered crop. It was tart with my juices and I moaned a little at the taste. It was long, rubbery, black and very, very shiny. I licked again and swirled my tongue, then repeated my trick from earlier and gobbled it down whole.

The rounded end of the crop and much of the grip disappeared into my mouth. The taste was an explosion almost as intense as my orgasm. I bobbed back and fourth, taking as much as the security arm would allow, but that clearly wasn't enough for Mistress Nightshade

She took my head by the back of my hair with one arm and fucked the crop in and out of my throat with the other. She forced it deep. It tripped my gag reflex but like a good little slut, I swallowed and let it into my throat. I'm awesome like that.

But even the best slut splutters a little. Drool dribbled down my face, my eyes ran with tears and my shoulders burned even more than before.

"Bad awful disobedient child!"

Mistress Nightshade's face was wild, almost savage. She ripped the crop from my throat and threw it so hard it bounced off the wall. Then her lips were on mine.

She savaged me, the kiss so powerful I knew I'd have bruises tomorrow. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth and when I returned the favour, she pulled back and her jaws closed like a bear trap. She held my tongue outstretched and trapped between her teeth.

Slowly, she pulled back. Every centimetre felt like a mile. Her teeth were sharp needles but they where drowned almost to nothing. The pull, the pull. God the pull.

Our eyes met again and her green gaze blazed with passion. She smiled and released my tongue.

I reeled back; a split second later the security arm let go and I collapsed onto the ground.

Mistress Nightshade towered over me, still clothed in the full might of her majesty. She stepped out of her pant-suit and pulled her black thong to one side. Her sex was almost bare, the only hair a narrow strip right at the top.

She dropped to her knees and rubbed her dripping cunt along my face. I made like a good little bi-sexual subby and made with the licking. Her thin thighs crushed my ears, flesh hot and pulsing with blood. She tasted different from me, sharper. That didn't matter. I licked and licked and she road my face like a prom-queen nearing her first real orgasm on her best friend's tongue while her jerk of a boyfriend shot pool with his mates. God that was a good night. Wonder what Steff is up to these days...

"Yes," hissed Mistress Nightshade, hands squeezing her bra covered breasts. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!"

She clenched down on me, body jerking as her cunt cried out its pleasure. I did my part, just a little after play, you know, to keep her pleasure going. Before long she collapsed down entirely, mind in fuck-drunk land, and I wriggled about until we lay spooning.

As I lay next to Mistress Nightshade in a sweaty, post-orgasmic pile, I had to wonder, if this was what I got for being bad, why would I ever be good? Maybe if I played my part well enough I'd even make sidekick?

Go team Awesome Girl!

Have I ever told you that I am the best sneaker ever! Because I totes am.

Sneak, sneak, sneak, I went as I moved past the rows of beds filled with sleeping women, and I didn't even hum my theme tune or anything.

And it's a really great theme tune. It goes, "Na na, na na naa."

Oops, wait, there I went. I looked around. No one heard; everyone still slept. Still best sneaker ever! Go team Awesome Girl!

That's me by the way, Awesome Girl. Okay, technically I'm Henchgirl Number Thirty Two but that's just until everyone notices my intrinsic awesomeness and I get promoted to sidekick with a proper back story and everything. And I've got a brilliant one all worked out; it's even better than my theme tune.

It involves aliens, orphans and being raised by sharks. How cool is that? No played out wolves for this girl.

I reached the dormitory door. There was a sign on it. It read, 'All Henchgirls must be in bed by 9pm. No exceptions!'

Well, that clearly didn't apply to me. After all I was the amazing Awesome Girl, and despite what everyone else might currently think, I was no mere henchgirl.

Just as I was congratulating myself on my awesome logic, I noticed the second sign. It read, 'This includes you, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two.'

Perhaps it meant a different Henchgirl Number Thirty Two?

I noticed the third sign. 'There is only one Henchgirl Number Thirty Two.'

Oh, screw it. I ripped all three signs off the door and set them on the floor, face down. The perfect crime! I could just say they fell off and that I never saw them. Awesome Girl: mistress of sneaking, defeater of signs, pull-er-off-er of escapes.

Cackling to myself, I fled the dormitory filled with sleeping henchgirls, and moved into the corridor outside.

So I suppose I should explain a bit about where I am. I'm in the top secret, super hidden base of Mistress Nightshade, evil genius extraordinaire.

The other henchgirls and I are her army of loyal minions. Well, loyalish. Fairly loyal? Okay, it is a good day if we are only on the take from one rival super-villain, international spy ring or criminal syndicate. But have you seen our pay and benefits package? We barely get dental! We do get uniforms, though.

I, like all the henchgirls, wore the standard minion costume. Well technically all the other henchgirls were currently wearing their regulation issue nighties and fuzzy slippers, it being bed time and all, but in general I mean.

It is a pretty good uniform, truth be told — sort of steampunky and cut to show off my amazing bod. Certainly like a bajillion times better than the bug body-suits the Queen Bee makes her minions wear or the soooooo out of date disco suits Eighties Queen foists on her staff.

It consisted of black thigh high boots with good stomping heels covered in shining metal buckles, a short leather skirt, a vest that left my stomach bare, a tool belt hung with all our special toys and a set of goggles with some cool heads up displays.

Which I totally do not use to watch porn while on duty, no matter what that disciplinary report said. Just because it has titties and cocks doesn't mean it's not art, people!

Anyway, the uniform was good for many things, including cunning plans.

The hallways were abandoned this late at night; Mistress Nightshade was very strict when it came to bed times. That made sneaking easier. Even someone not as amazing as me could probably manage it.

I prowled all silent like along the halls, heading for the central control hub. I had a plan, you see. Indeed it was no ordinary plan. It was a cunning plan, devised by the razor sharp mind of that oh-so-sexy, oh-so-smart and oh-so-amazing villianness (not quite yet) known as Awesome Girl.

I'd sneak in, power-up Mistress Nightshade's back door connection to the Nerdvana Network and by morning the name Awesome Girl would be trending big time, catapulting me straight to sidekick status.

Don't know what the Nerdvana Network is? That's the biz term for the Mockingbird tweeters — those ubiquitous digital shrines and wi-fi hubs. You know, those black and red tents that give you free wi-fi if you tweet hashtag #MockingbirdIsGreat, or whatever the current meme is, a few times. I doubt I'd get the divinity by popular acclamation deal Mockingbird has going on, but it would certainly do wonders for my rep and who knew, perhaps I would soon be shouting go Goddess Awesome Girl.

The first real problem happened when I reached the control hub's main door. It was the big, mean grandpappy of doors — hulking, covered in thick black armour and, worst of all, with a large frowny face front and centre. How is a peppy go getter like me meant to get up to mischief with that kind of negativity getting me down? It's called employee motivation, people!

Luckily, I, in my infinite wisdom, knew there was a second way in. A few weeks back, while Mistress Nightshade was babbling on about 'vital briefing' this and 'important role' that, I grew so bored I read the health and safety posters. As such I knew there was an emergency exit from the control hub.

Humming my theme song under my breath, I scurried down the corridor and slipped through a service door into the industrial guts of the building.

I know; I know. Ew, nude old building. Say no to GILF porn.

From there it was only a short hop to the fire access stairway and an even shorter run down a flight of stairs to the fire door. I forced it open with my all access Minion's Friend (TM) multi-tool and darted inside. Needless to say, I did it like a boss.

This late at night, the control hub was abandoned. Two stories of computer monitors, projectors, smart tables and holo-screens snored the electronic buzz of sleeping machines. The screens were black, the only lights lethargic diodes.

Now which one was the Nerdvana back door again... No idea. Oh well.

I moved to the nearest control panel and started pushing buttons at random until I got a reaction. Lights flickered and the main screen burst to life.

'Password...'

Let's see.

'Awesome Girl Is Awesome,' I typed.

'Password Incorrect. 2 Attempts Remaining.'

Nuts. Well, not everyone can use a password as amazing as mine, and if they did, it wouldn't make a very good password any more would it. Logic, bitches.

Maybe 'Awesome Girl Is Very Awesome'? But, no, too obvious. Perhaps, 'Awesome Girl Has An Amazing Butt'? Also true but Mistress Nightshade always seemed more a tit woman to me...

Really, now that I thought about it and I know this might be hard to believe, but just perhaps and despite how incredibly amazing I am, Mistress Nightshade had chosen a password that wasn't about me.

Slowly I typed, 'Big Mean Boss'.

'Password incorrect. Counter measures engaged.'

No fair! I had one guess left.

A metallic arm unfolded from the ceiling and grabbed for me. I let loose a fearsome battle cry that was in no way like a girlish shriek and dove for cover under the nearest desk. I almost made it too but the claw snagged my ankle and pulled me kicking and screaming out. It hoisted me up and left me hanging suspended in the air.

Damn stupid cheating uppity robots. Never should have given them the vote. Well, it might have me trapped but not for long.

I drew my raygun from my toy belt and pointed it at the joint where the arm emerged from the ceiling. But first... I pulled down my goggles and flicked the switch for eye protection mode. The world darkened. Eye safety kids; remember, only play with lasers if you're as awesome as me! Or, you know, if your laser is like really, really cool because lets face it, lasers are pretty damn fun. You are all pow-pow and your enemies are all 'ah we're burning, we're burning!' And your all like 'bow down before me puny mortals for I have a laser-gun'.

Anyway...

Zap! I squeezed the trigger and the miniature pulse laser spat photonic death. The claw melted into super-heated gunk and I smashed into the floor head first.

Ow, ow, ow. I rubbed my head until the dozen tiny birds stopped spamming popular hashtags at me. Problem averted. Go team Awesome Girl!

The main door clunked as the immense servo motors pulled it open. I gulped, scrabbled to my feet and turned.

From one floor above, Mistress Nightshade glared down at me. Oh a-not-very-nice-word-indeed. The metal toe of her boot clicked like a clock against the floor.

So, yeah, I was busted big time. Under Mistress Nightshade's piercing gaze, all I could do was quail in my big stomping shoes, which I felt almost ready to disappear into.

"Henchgirl Number Thirty Two," she said in a voice that felt like a cracking whip. I'm fairly sure Mistress Nightshade's secret identity is an English governess in some rich nob's house.

"Yes, miss," I sort of whispered.

"What," she said, ruby-red lips pursing, "is the meaning of this?"

"Don't know, miss."

"You don't know?" She shook her head. "You don't know why you are in the central control hub, after lights out, standing before a locked computer and surrounded by the smouldering remains of a security arm."

"No, miss."

She paused, green eyes narrowing. "Do you know what it looks like to me?"

I didn't answer.

"To me," she continued. "It looks like you are out of bed, again, and once more up to your infernal mischief-making. What exactly do you think it will take to teach you proper behaviour? More fines? More demerits? Do you want to go back to working at McDonalds?"

I mumbled something.

"What was that?" Her voice felt like a slap.

"I'm a kinaesthetic learner, miss."

"Henchgirl Number Thirty Two," she said. "Despite what you apparently think, kinaesthetic learning is not a licence for rule breaking, but perhaps you are right. If you learn from tactile experience, perhaps that is the correct way to teach you. Follow."

Under Mistress Nightshade's watchful gaze, I trudged up the hub's internal staircase and followed her out the door. She led me to a small room near her quarters that I had never been to before. The bolts holding the door shut swooshed back at her approach, which was just totally unfair. Didn't even need to use a multi-tool.

In we went, this time with Mistress Nightshade following. She prodded me until I stood in the centre of the room. Above, light panels swelled to life. I looked up and noticed a security arm hole, currently irised closed. Because that wasn't worrying at all.

"Hands in the air," said Mistress Nightshade.

I gulped but under her piercing green eyes I had no choice.

Up my arms went and down came the security arm. It made a mechanical swishing sound and the rubbery, claw like grip snapped closed around my wrists. It hummed and drew me up, not very far but enough that my heels no longer quite touched the ground. I balanced on the balls of my feet.

Mistress Nightshade stood before me, so tall and majestic. She was taller than me at just under six feet in her heels, but she had the kind of presence that always let her be the tallest in the room, no matter the actual heights of the people involved, you know? Her hair was straight, black and long, her face aristocrat sharp, and her make-up perfect. Only her nose was slightly out of place, being a cute button thing. She lacked my scrumdiliumcious curves, with small breasts and narrow hips, but she made it work for her.

"Now," said Mistress Nightshade and a breathy note entered her normally whip-crack voice. Her high-heeled boots clacked as she walked a circle around me. "What are we going to do with you..."

Click, click, click. I stretched my neck to follow her but the security arm made that impossible. Her eyes drilled sharp into the back of my head and I shivered.

I felt a presence at my back and then she was there. She reached around me, arms tickling my sides, and her hands closed on my breasts. She squeezed down, just for a moment, but I moaned and squirmed a little. Then she was gone.

Click, click, click.

She came back into my field of view and stripped me. Off came my boots, socks, skirt and under-things. Down went all my toys, such as my raygun and all access Minion's Friend (TM) multi-tool. Where my bondage prevented the removal of my vest and goggles, she produced a knife and sliced them away. Shredded cloth fell like confetti around me. All too soon I was completely naked. I shivered in the iron grip of the security arm. Trapped as I was, escape was impossible.

Next she walked over a blank section of wall and brushed it with the back of one alabaster hand. A hidden drawer swooshed out. My eyes opened wide. It was filled with whips. Her fingers moved along the instruments, toying with the bamboo shafts of canes, the thin wood of switches and the leather grips of long terrifying things. Finally she came to rest on the ribbed rubber grip of a short riding crop.

She drew it out and my eyes glued to the tip. The leather sung to me, called to me. My breath caught in my throat and I shivered at the ghosts of the blows to come. So I like a bit of kink; it is all part of being the amazing Awesome Girl.

"How old are you, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two?" she asked, the tip of her whip trailing across my naked breasts.

"Twenty two, miss." The skin touched by her whip danced with a thousand sparking needles.

"Twenty two and still all the self control of a teenager." She struck and the riding crop left a stinging pink patch on my bubble butt. I yelped and jerked in my bondage. When I regained my balance, I was panting for breath.

"Do you know why you are here now?" she asked.

My clitty buzzed and I could feel dampness on my thighs. "Is it cake?" I asked.

That brought Mistress Nightshade up short. "What? Why would it be cake?"

"Because cake is awesome. You have chocolate cake and banana cake. You have carrot cake and cherry cake. You even have—" and here my voice dropped to a hushed whisper "—red velvet cake.

Even Mistress Nightshade seemed a bit tempted at the last. "It's not cake okay! I don't think you quite get the context here."

Oh, yeah, the whip.

"You have been a bad, bad girl," she said and started to circle me again. Click, click, click went her heels. The head of the crop dragged against my flesh, the bending part straining and relaxing as it pulled up and down the contours of my body. "I have tried explanations. I have tried conventional punishments. But you do not learn. I think it is clear something more serious is in order."

Again she struck out and the crop kissed my other butt cheek. Its lips were fire and I squirmed in the most delicious way. Have I ever told you: I am the best subby ever, because I totes am. In fact, I am all kinds of awesome.

"Discipline," said Mistress Nightshade, "that is what you need." She extended the crop and flicked the tip across one of my hard nipples. It only stung a little, but that wasn't the point. She swooped forward, bent slightly and drew her tongue up the curve of my neck.

Fucking wow. My knees just about gave out.

Click, click, click. Again with the circling. Her fingers bit into my butt like sharpened claws.

"Do you need discipline, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two? Do I need to make you learn?"

I could feel her breath at my neck, cold against where she'd licked.

"And how do you learn, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two? You said it yourself. You're a 'kinaesthetic learner'. You learn by doing. You learn by experiencing. You learn by feel." She bit my earlobe hard, her small, sharp teeth sinking deep. Just as quickly she was gone and two more blows exploded against my ass. My flesh burned.

Tears made my vision a bit blurry so I only saw a black and white blur when she came back into view. Despite that, I could feel her majesty. She stood before me, an evil genius to make the superheroes quail. She ran the crop over my thin arms, stretched high above my head. She ran the crop over my legs, the muscles taught from standing on the balls of my feet. She ran the crop over my needy sex, now dripping with juices.

"Punishment," she said, "discipline. These are how children learn, Henchgirl Number Thirty Two, and despite your age, you are very much a child." She reversed the crop in her grip and lifted the rounded end to my face. It dragged at my lower lip, partly opening my mouth to show my pearly chompers. "Suck."

The rubber was warm from her hand. I bobbed forward and swallowed the handle whole. It disappeared and I swirled my tongue around it, like it was a little cock. I even bobbed back and forward a bit, at least as much as my security arm induced bondage would allow. Yeah, I like to put on a bit of a show; I'm awesome like that.

After a few seconds Mistress Nightshade withdrew the crop. It shone with saliva and a glistening chain hung between my pouting lips and the rounded base.

"You are a child, yes," she said, "but you are also a woman, and that means I can be especially creative with my punishments."

She pressed the rounded base of the crop against my sex. It split my nether lips, not a lot but enough so I could feel its size. Our eyes met, hers so vividly green they stole my breath, and she pushed.

The crop plundered my body, so fucking huge. She pushed and pushed, splitting me open and splitting me deep.

I gasped and my knees disappeared out from under me. As it fucked me, I let loose pathetic little moan after pathetic little moan.

Mistress Nightshade smiled. With a liquid squelching sound, she pulled the crop out again. If it was wet before, it was now sodden.

She tisked. "Someone is a very bad girl." She set to fucking me in earnest.

In out, in out, the crop went. It was thick and long. The ribbed rubber handle scraped against my liquid internal walls. I managed to find my feet again but it didn't do me much good. The crop battered me, fucked me, ravaged me. It melted my sex, fired up my clitty and made my knees feel like water.

I moaned. Mistress Nightshade fucked me harder. She twisted the crop as she thrust it in and out my body. I moaned louder still.

And then-

And then-

I exploded. My legs vanished. My body shook. I came my brains out. Then—

Black.

The world returned I don't know how long later. I hung limp from my wrists, my shoulders burning and sex still stuffed like a Christmas turkey.

Seeing my returning consciousness, Mistress Nightshade withdrew the crop from my sodden sex and held the end up to my mouth. Drops of cunt-juice dripped from it and splashed against the floor. I read the command in her eyes. 'You know what to do.' They were right.

I stuck out my tongue and licked the proffered crop. It was tart with my juices and I moaned a little at the taste. It was long, rubbery, black and very, very shiny. I licked again and swirled my tongue, then repeated my trick from earlier and gobbled it down whole.

The rounded end of the crop and much of the grip disappeared into my mouth. The taste was an explosion almost as intense as my orgasm. I bobbed back and fourth, taking as much as the security arm would allow, but that clearly wasn't enough for Mistress Nightshade

She took my head by the back of my hair with one arm and fucked the crop in and out of my throat with the other. She forced it deep. It tripped my gag reflex but like a good little slut, I swallowed and let it into my throat. I'm awesome like that.

But even the best slut splutters a little. Drool dribbled down my face, my eyes ran with tears and my shoulders burned even more than before.

"Bad awful disobedient child!"

Mistress Nightshade's face was wild, almost savage. She ripped the crop from my throat and threw it so hard it bounced off the wall. Then her lips were on mine.

She savaged me, the kiss so powerful I knew I'd have bruises tomorrow. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth and when I returned the favour, she pulled back and her jaws closed like a bear trap. She held my tongue outstretched and trapped between her teeth.

Slowly, she pulled back. Every centimetre felt like a mile. Her teeth were sharp needles but they where drowned almost to nothing. The pull, the pull. God the pull.

Our eyes met again and her green gaze blazed with passion. She smiled and released my tongue.

I reeled back; a split second later the security arm let go and I collapsed onto the ground.

Mistress Nightshade towered over me, still clothed in the full might of her majesty. She stepped out of her pant-suit and pulled her black thong to one side. Her sex was almost bare, the only hair a narrow strip right at the top.

She dropped to her knees and rubbed her dripping cunt along my face. I made like a good little bi-sexual subby and made with the licking. Her thin thighs crushed my ears, flesh hot and pulsing with blood. She tasted different from me, sharper. That didn't matter. I licked and licked and she road my face like a prom-queen nearing her first real orgasm on her best friend's tongue while her jerk of a boyfriend shot pool with his mates. God that was a good night. Wonder what Steff is up to these days...

"Yes," hissed Mistress Nightshade, hands squeezing her bra covered breasts. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!"

She clenched down on me, body jerking as her cunt cried out its pleasure. I did my part, just a little after play, you know, to keep her pleasure going. Before long she collapsed down entirely, mind in fuck-drunk land, and I wriggled about until we lay spooning.

As I lay next to Mistress Nightshade in a sweaty, post-orgasmic pile, I had to wonder, if this was what I got for being bad, why would I ever be good? Maybe if I played my part well enough I'd even make sidekick?

Go team Awesome Girl!

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