Infiltration

"You sure you can handle all of them?" Woodpecker hands you the binoculars, and you use it to study the half-naked women patrolling the other side of the iron fence with semi-automatic guns.
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You smile, resting a hand on your holstered dart gun, and gaze at the rifle-wielding babes. "I can handle Gemini. All you've got to do is create a big enough distraction so Rachel can get me in without my body getting riddled with bullets."

"Be careful with that distraction, Ben," adds the black-haired girl. "We're wanted 'criminal' vigilantes, and Ultragirl is right around the corner."

"Yeah yeah, I got it," mumbles Woodpecker, impatiently fidgeting with his red-white-and-black mask. "Can I go already? The tension is killing me here." They both instinctually look to you.

"Go," you nod, and your friend dashes round the corner, towards the front of the Houses of Parliament. Barely moments later, you hear a loud crash, and the two Gemini guarding the side gate run to investigate. Rachel immediately uses the opportunity to levitate you over the fence, and breaks open a door into the building for you. "Be safe, sexy," she calls after you.

"I will," you smile back at her gratefully, before entering the palace.

"I'll be back in a minute, I promise."

Gemini stared at her partner in disbelief. "We're identical clones, we've had the same food and drink, and your division was only two minutes before mine. How can you need the toilet, whilst I don't?"

Her identical twin put a hand on her hip. "Check our connection then, if you're so sceptical."

For a few seconds, Gemini gazed at the ceiling, mentally focusing on the other clone through the telepathic connection that linked all Gemini. To her irritation, it seemed the other Gemini was telling the truth. "Fine. Go." She watched the duplicate of herself walk down the corridor, appreciating for a moment how good her ass looked from behind in those black panties, the way her hips swayed with each step, before she turned into the ladies' WC.

The lone Gemini waited impatiently at the junction of corridors. According to the protocol she remembered laying out before this whole operation, she was supposed to clone herself whenever she was alone - but she couldn't really be asked, having already spent over an hour on her feet, bored to ****, with only her clone for company. Once today was over, she needed a break from herself.

A slight noise in a nearby room drew her out of her thoughts. This whole wing of the Palace was supposed to be empty, aside from the Gemini assigned to patrols. The lone Gemini readied her weapon. "I hear you! Come out of there and surrender."

There was no response. The clone bit her lip, trying to suppress the urge to jump in there and shoot whoever it was full of bullets. She had suffered so fucking much over the past month because of the work done by people in this building, she was ready to fuck it all and shoot somebody - but she reminded herself the more people she shot, the less likely they would be to repeal the Mutant Act.

Gritting her teeth, she poked the door open with the nuzzle of her rifle, and stepped into the darkened lounge. Suddenly, Gemini felt a sharp prick in her upper arm, and she wheeled around, searching in the dark for her attacker. "Don't move," she ordered. "I have you at gunpoint, and I will shoot if you fucking do that again."

Carefully, she walked backwards, and flicked the light switch with her elbow, illuminating the room and the other person within it. Gemini's jaw went slack: the man was gorgeous - tall, muscular, with a disarming air of confidence even at gunpoint. "There's no need for that," he nodded at her gun. His voice was smooth but rich, the kind of voice she would happily listen to for hours without hearing a word. "I won't hurt you."

Suddenly losing focus, Gemini let the weapon's muzzle drop a little, as she drank in the sight of his chiselled body. The way he filled out that dark, tailored suit was undeniably arousing, but every time she looked at his unspeakably attractive face she thought she must have walked into a movie.

Eventually she scraped together enough cognitive function to speak. "Who are you? How did you escape our initial sweep?"

"Oh, I'm not terribly important," said the man, in a way which made Gemini think the exact opposite. "You can call me Michael - just a human resources specialist. And I'm not a fan of ****, so perhaps you would be so kind as to lower your weapon."

The brunette hesitated, then raised her rifle to point right at him. "Come with me. I'm going to take you to join the rest of the prisoners."

Michael sighed, and place his hands behind his head - though he looked more like he was relaxing than surrendering, and Gemini couldn't help but notice how the posture drew his shirt extremely tight over his pecs. "If you insist. But I don't see the need for all this tension. You have a gun, and I'm a single man in a building guarded by hundreds of your clones. I am helpless, and you... you could do anything to me."

Gemini froze, and bit her lip, as a dozen fantasies flashed through her mind. Why was she so horny, all of a sudden? Was it because she'd been walking around in her underwear for the last two hours? It had been over a year since she last had sex, after all. And this man... for some reason, despite the fact that he even admitted she held all the power, she couldn't help but imagine the different ways she could submit to him.

"You're right," the girl said shakily, pushing the door closed on them. "What do you think I might do to you?"

"Oh, I daren't imagine," said Michael, lowering his hands. The hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "But I fear that you might satisfy your darkest desires, and have your way with me."

Gemini breathed heavily, trying to keep her composure, as her mind raced to imagine what would happen next. "Take off your shirt."

Wordlessly, the gorgeous man did as she said, carefully removing his jacket, then tie, then cufflinks, before finally beginning to undo his shirt buttons. It felt agonisingly slow to the teenage clone, who couldn't seem to look away as Michael's perfectly chiselled pecs and eight-pack were revealed.

"Now the shoes and trousers," continued Gemini shakily. "Then we'll be on even footing."

"Really?" Michael looked at her, even as he did as she asked. "That gun suggests otherwise." He stood only a foot away from Gemini, her in only a bra and panties, he in only his boxers. She couldn't help but notice the sizable bulge in the middle of the fabric.

"Maybe I want the gun," she suggested.

"Maybe you want something else, too" he countered. "But you'll have to choose."