Moonstone Makes Nairobi More Dominant Toward Sue Storm

Karla Stone had booked her appointment in advance. She had requested a particular masseuse. The slim, dark-skinned young woman had her hair tied into cornrows today; her uniform a crisp white sleeveless pantsuit. She smiled as the blonde villain slipped out of her robe without ceremony, her naked body fit and toned though a combination of regular exercise, dieting, and the alien gemstone bonded to her nervous system.

They exchanged pleasantries, discussed services. Karla settled on her stomach, felt the strong, knowing hands spread oil on her back.

Then Moonstone's eyes began to glow.

"Do you do happy endings?" the villain asked, voice deliberately casual. Yet she felt Nairobi's hands tense.

"No," the young woman said.

"Not even for special clients?" The villain pressed, as she tweaked the gravimetric pulse that hit Nairobi's brain like a fifth appletini on a night out with friends.

"I—I mean—" Nairobi stammered. "Sometimes, I did. But I'm with someone—"

"Does she know you're with her?" Karla pressed. "This special client."

Nairobi wasn't like Sue Storm. Far less experience, far less resistance to this kind of manipulation. Her unprepared defenses crumbled.

"I mean, I think so, we kissed—" she began.

"I think you need to do better than that," Karla said. "After all, if you really care about someone, you should make it clear that they know it. By thought, word, and deed. Can you think of something to do to her to prove how special she is to you?"

Nairobi's heart leaped. Forbidden fantasies filtered to the surface of her mind, even as she worked the muscles in Karla's neck.

"Yes," the masseuse said. "I can show her. I will—"

"Good," Karla murmured. Then she rolled over, and the implants in her skull stopped their mad buzz as Moonstone ceased her manipulation. Back to a normal massage. "Now the front, please."