Not quite

"Bonjour," begins Esmée, her accent thick. "Normally I would welcome visitors, but I am afraid I am quite busy, and you do not have an appointment."

"I'm afraid that's beside the point, ma'am," replied the black-suited man. "I'm Agent Travis, this is Agent Mayfield. We have reason to believe you are harbouring a dangerous mutant, Sara Rodriguez, who goes by the name of The Contortionist."

You sink into the wall{if@ Futa==false}, rubbing your chin{endif}. These guys are pretty serious, if they somehow unmasked Sara's identity and tracked her all the way here - but in hindsight, you should have expected as much. The combination of mutant heroes and government funding is bound to be a potent one. The only upside to this situation is they don't seem to be aware that you or Rachel are here... yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just me by myself here," sighed Esmée, with provocative innocence. "But you can be assured that if I do come across this... contortionist... you will be the first to know."

"That's... not how this works," chuckled the man, but he was interrupted by a female voice - young: Foxgloves.

"Fuck this," announced the green-skinned girl, and you hear the door slamming open as she stamps her way down the corridor. You press yourself into the shadows and hold your breath as she storms past, then stops just out of sight. "Coming, Pecker boy?"

You discern a nervous "fine" from outside, but don't stick around to risk discovery, slipping down an adjacent passage to where Rachel and Sara are waiting, overlooking the atrium.

"What's the plan, {if Futa==true}mistress{else}master{endif}?" whispers Rachel.

You quickly relay what you know. "Sara, I need you to be our decoy. Tell the rest of the girls to hide in the safe room, take whichever car is on the turntable and drive into the city. Then ditch it at the earliest opportunity, and slip away. I trust you can distract and evade them for a few days?"

"And then can I come back?" You nod, and the Latina grins broadly. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"What about you and I? And what do we do about Foxgloves and Woodpecker?" As Rachel finishes her question, you see the red, white and black-garbed man enter the atrium below. All three of you drop your heads and fall silent, watching as he quickly darts around the sofas before running into the billiards room.

"We use this," you answer, pulling a tiny bottle of white fluid from your pocket.

Carly exited the bathroom with slightly less enthusiasm than when she had entered. What kind of super-thief hides in the bathroom anyway? she asked herself. But honestly, she was beginning to wonder if the billionaire blonde - dressed as a slutty maid, for fuck knows what reason - might actually have been telling the truth. On the other hand, it was hard to see how the bank's nanotrackers could be so specifically wrong. They only have a few days' life expectancy, she reminded herself - perhaps they've already started malfunctioning.

With a sigh, she opened the door to a darkened room, with a series of blinking standby lights. The security room; this might prove useful. She flicked the light switch with a green finger - to no effect.

"Seriously?" Foxgloves said out loud, then turned on her radio. "Ben, are you there?"

"Yep," replied her partner for the day.

"Is the power out where you are?" She heard the muffled sound of him clumsily making his way across a room.

"Yeah, no power. I'll see if I can sort it out."

"Cheers. I'm at the security room, the CCTV probably has backup power. I'm gonna try and do it in the dark for the meantime. Out."

Her radio bleeped as she released the button, and she began walking towards the desk. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the door closed itself behind her, plunging the room into pitch blackness, save for the dim amber lights of the monitors.

"Great," muttered Carly, pulling out her miniature torch. Before she could click it on, she suddenly felt a pair of lips on hers, kissing her, a tongue trying to **** its way into her mouth, hands grabbing her ass and back and pulling her into the embrace of {if Futa==true}a fragrant, feminine figure.{else}a musky, masculine figure.{endif}

Exerting her superhuman strength, Foxgloves threw her attacker across the room. "Get your hands on your head, and stay the fuck away from me. I'm warning you," she announced, trying to keep the wavering out of her voice. She didn't know why she was nervous - she was {if Futa==true}ten times stronger than most women{else}five times stronger than most men{endif}. Remembering the torch in her hand, she clicked it on, to see a {if Futa==true}gorgeous woman, with an Amazonian stature and bust, sauntering coolly towards her{else}surprisingly handsome man advancing steadily towards her{endif}. For a moment, some primal part of her own brain remarked to her how good the kiss had tasted, before she buried it.

"That's far enough," Carly growled, stamping her bare foot against the carpet. At her will, she felt roots spreading from her heel and through the floorboards at lightning speed, before firmly encasing the {if Futa==true}wo{endif}man's feet and ankles.

"Who are you? Where's the Contortionist?" demanded the half-plant girl. Before he even had a chance to answer, however, Carly felt her body being grabbed by an unseen ****, tearing the brittle root off her ankle and flinging her against the wall, two feet in the air. It was only then that she saw the third person in the room, a petite feminine figure clad in black, wearing a bird-like mask adorned with black feathers. Foxgloves threw out her arm, vines whipping from her wrist towards the target - but the {if Futa==true}smaller {endif}woman raised a hand, and strain as she would, Carly couldn't seem to move either her body or her vines. It was like she had been immobilised.

"You're not Rodriguez. What do you want?" Now Carly was genuinely frightened, though glad to still be able to speak. As she watched, the {if Futa==true}woman flexed her toned calves, and ripped her way out of the roots with deceptive ease. She continued towards Carly, hips swaying hypnotically. Carly had always thought she swung more towards the straight side of the spectrum than the lesbian - but she couldn't take her eyes off this vision of female beauty. She did her best to push down the flutter in her chest - didn't she sexually **** me? - but it was a half-hearted attempt.{else}man flexed his leg muscles and ripped his way out of her roots, slowly pacing towards her. God, he was good looking - but he sexually assaulted me, she reminded herself.{endif}

When {if Futa==true}she spoke, the Amazon's voice was smooth, enthralling, and dripping with sex{else}he spoke, the man's voice was rich and smooth{endif}. "All I want is for us to be friends."

{if Futa==true}Carly watched as she pulled a white bottle out of her deep cleavage, and her amber eyes widened as she realised the woman's intention. "Please don't," she gasped, then clamped her jaw shut as she removed the lid. Foxgloves shook her head desperately as an elegant hand raised towards her face, but she took hold of Carly's jaw with inhuman strength, slowly prising it open, and emptying the bottle's delicious (?!) contents down her throat.{else}Carly watched as he pulled a white bottle out of his pocket, and her eyes widened as she realised his intention. "Please don't," she gasped, then clamped her jaw shut as he removed the lid. She shook her head desperately as his hand raised towards her face, but he took hold of her jaw with surprising strength, slowly prising it open, and emptying the bottle's delicious (?!) contents down her throat.{endif}

Foxgloves walked out of the security room, the door shutting behind her. With embarrassment, she noticed her dress of leaves had somehow lost coverage of her nether region, and she hurriedly regrew it.

"There you are!" The gaudy sight of Woodpecker came careening towards her. "I was just coming to get you. The agents just radioed - the Contortionist's trying to escape in a car. They need us up top, now."

"Huh," sniffed the part-plant girl, joining him in a run towards the exit. "I didn't see her on the CCTV footage - I think that bimbo's telling the truth about not knowing her. She really is slippery."

For some reason her body really ached - particularly her pussy. A strong, good ache. She instantly dismissed it though, and didn't think about it again.