The Contortionist

"I'll go with Woodpecker," you announce. "Sparrow, Foxgloves - I'll leave rescuing the hostages in your capable hands."

"Shouldn't be a problem," drawls Carly. Rachel barely seems to notice, lost in thought as she stares at the bank with her eyebrows furrowed.

You and Woodpecker leave the girls and follow the police chief's directions around the back of the bank, to a small service door. You lean against it, and give a grunt of exertion as you snap the metal bolts holding it in place, wincing as the sound echoes along the corridor within.

Ben leads you a short way through the labyrinthine corridors, until he abruptly stops.

"Are you sure?" you ask.

"Yep." Kneeling down and bracing himself against the wall, Woodpecker starts punching the floor. With one blow, the floorboards are obliterated, revealing the steel lining of the main vault. Woodpecker's arms blur, the metal denting more with every punches, and within ten seconds it tears from the ****. Gripping the rough edge with his hands, the hero gives a strained yell, ripping open the gap until you can jump through.

You land in the centre of the main vault, surrounded chest-high by filing cabinets and pallets of banknotes. You quickly glance around, but your instincts tell you you're too late. Something moves in the corner of your eye, and you realise the vault door is silently swinging shut, about to trap you inside. Without thinking, you sprint towards the door, even as you hear Ben jump into the vault behind you, and call your name. You have to ignore him, however, as you see the gap narrowing, and put on a final burst of speed, and slip out in the nick of time{if Futa==true}, feeling your nipples brushing the metal{endif}. Ben, however, isn't so lucky, and you hear a dull thump as he collides with the thick door.

"Woodpecker!" you call, banging your fist uselessly against three feet of solid steel. Just then, you hear the echoing clank of metal on metal from an adjacent corridor. Glancing at the vault, you figure Ben can make his own way out, and dash towards the noise. You reach an intersection, and skid to a halt, straining your ears, and just about make out a faint clacking sound - like high heels on a hard floor. It doesn't sound far away. You follow your ears as stealthily as you can, until you find an innocuous-looking door left ajar. Opening it, you see another vault door behind it - this one hanging open. Glancing around carefully, you make your way into the open vault.

"I was hoping it would be you."

You spin around, trying to find the voice's source, but all you see are boxes and pallets of gold ingots and jewels. You make sure to keep an eye on the door, so your quarry can't slip out.

"And I must say, you're even more {if Futa==true}fabulous{else}handsome{endif} up close."

The feminine voice is silky smooth, simply dripping with elegance and eroticism. It sounds like she's just behind you, but you turn to find only empty air.

"We both know you're not here to protect the bank, Alpha {if Futa==true}Woman{else}Man{endif}, nor the jewels of rich aristocrats. You want me."

You slowly turn, and there she is. The Contortionist, dressed in a black latex catsuit, one hand on her hip. Now she's said those words, it's difficult to deny them. Her brown legs are long and toned, the flare of her hips leading to a narrow but strong waist. Her breasts form two perfect hemispheres, pushing against her costume, tantalisingly drawing your eye - though not as much as her face. It's simply beautiful, a sharp jawline and high cheekbones framed by long waves of silky chocolate hair. From behind a mask, her dark eyes glower at you seductively, never wavering from yours.

"What makes you think you know anything about me?" you ask her, breaking the tension.

"Oh, I do my homework." The Latina bombshell slowly prowls towards you. "I know you have an appetite for fine women. And I think you'll find I have assets that none can match." You watch with amazement as her breasts swell, growing visibly underneath the shiny black suit, which stretches to accommodate them. Within seconds, they grow from apples, to oranges, to grapefruit, to melons. Her nipples stand out against their skintight covering, having grown from dots to nearly two inches in length.

By the time you tear your eyes from her tits, the Contortionist's mauve lips are inches from yours. "Trust me, you'll never meet another girl like me." She loops an arm over your shoulder, and you feel it slide impossibly far down your back and around your pelvis, to gently take hold of your {if Futa==true}pussy{else}bulge{endif}. Unable to resist your instincts any longer, you seize her hips and pull her to you, pressing your mouth to hers{if Futa==true}, her breasts to yours{endif}. Her lips are smooth and soft, and taste of something you struggle to identify, Whilst one hand continues to massage your crotch, she runs her other hand through your hair, returning the kiss with an exquisite passion. As you enjoy the feeling of her ample ass in your hand, the growing fire within you is suddenly dampened. Your vision grows foggy, your head swimming, and you realise what was in her lipstick - too late. As your balance fails you, you fall away from the Contortionist in what seems to be slow-motion, darkness overcoming you before you even hit the floor.

You wake to the sight of Sparrow's mask looking down at you, the sound of sirens, and the fiery scent of smelling salts. With a start, you try to sit up, but an invisible **** holds you down.

"Easy there, {if Futa==true}Mikaela{else}Michael{endif}," murmurs Rachel with a smile. "You'll need a minute to get your balance back."

You glance around as best as you can, and realise you're in the back of an ambulance, its doors open to the street before the bank. "What happened?"

"They got away," frowns your partner. "By the time Woodpecker found you, the Contortionist was gone. Foxgloves and I freed the hostages and tried to catch Missfire, but she set the entire floor alight. The fire crews are still trying to put it out."

"We were actually wondering what happened to you," a familiar voice says, and Rachel allows you to sit up enough to see Ben jogging towards you. "It took me several minutes to get out of the vault and find you, and you've slept like a log for ten minutes since. I guessed the Contortionist must have used a sleeping **** on you."

"Err... yeah, that's right," you say. It's not exactly a lie. "She dosed me before I could react. Is anyone hurt?"

"I managed to get everyone out unharmed, if a little shaken," Rachel reassures you. "We haven't figured out what they took yet. The silent alarm in the main vault was a red herring."

"Great," says Woodpecker nervously, fiddling with the feather-like texture of his suit. "But we'd better go now, guys. I think we've attracted someone's attention."

Rachel helps you to your feet, your head already cleared, and you follow Ben's gaze upwards. A familiar white-and-gold clad heroine is flying between the city blocks towards you. You're tempted to stay and confront Ultragirl, but Rachel places a hand on your shoulder.

"Not yet."

You know she's right, and run towards the bikes, where Carly is already waiting. You quickly mount up, feeling Rachel's soft weight behind you, and gun the engine. Glancing back, you see Ultragirl hovering, staring after you, before she descends towards the still-ablaze crime scene.