He offers the contact a 'private party' with you and Magik Knight...

On the car ride over, you were hyper-vigilant for any sign that Mike is looking at Wushu Panda. The lithe martial artist has her lustrous black hair done up in those fancy braided rings again. And you can't stop staring at them.

At first, you thought they were ridiculous. You never could believe how much time some other girls would spend on their hair - starting with your own mother and sister. Growing up, your mom had always been trying to convince you to do something more elaborate and 'pretty' with your blonde hair, like braids. Which only made you more determined to get it chopped off. You remember your dad always gave you a warm, sympathetic smirk when your mother was moaning about it.

So it's a great surprise that you now find yourself wondering if Panda has the right idea. If you should do something fancier with your hair. Heck, dress a little fancier. You suddenly realize how little thought or effort you ever put into your style as a superheroine. You did the absolute bare-bones minimum - a white one-piece and that's it. No symbols, no accessories, no mask or cape, not even bracelets.

"I always thought I was a rebel, not caring about all that stuff... but maybe I was just bein' lazy." you say with a sigh as you stare at Wushu Panda. She clearly puts a lot of work into her appearance. She has impeccable makeup - blush on her cheeks, perfectly smooth cheeks, sultry eyeshadow, inviting bright-red lips... she really is amazingly beautiful, even by superheroine standards. Not to mention her body. How is it even possible for a girl to be so skinny in only the right places, but none of the wrong ones? Dammit - have you been letting yourself go, trusting your "super-metabolism" too much? You rest a hand on your stomach.

"No, no..." you shake your head. You have the body of a swimsuit calendar model. You have the kind of big, soft, natural bosom that other women pay tens of thousands of dollars to try and emulate. "Why the heck am I feeling insecure suddenly?"

A long wolf whistle comes from up ahead, where Daisaku and 'Madman' Mike are in the front seats in tailored suits. "Quite a few lookers at this place! I can see why these rich assholes shell out the big bucks to stay here with those kinds of amenities!" Sure enough, there is a gaggle of young women in fashionable dresses loitering at the hotel entrance, awaiting the arrival of whoever they're meeting here.

Oh. Right. That's why. Because Mike fucked your high-kicking teammate almost immediately after he was done with you. Of course you're comparing yourself to her.

"Alright. Wushu Panda, Daisaku, you two are up. Make sure Dominic isn't pulling any shit that I might have to smoke him for. If he tries to duck us, make him sorry. But probably you two won't need to do anything except get comfortable and wait. Y'know, slip into an empty room so you don't look conspicuous out in the open..."

"Agh!" Wushu Panda cringes and puffs her cheeks out. Daisaku smiles awkwardly while half-meeting her gaze.

"And vhat are we doing again?" Magik Knight asks in a haughty, bemused tone.

"Just follow my lead!" Mike says. "Everyone can see how important you two are! New heroines are still heroines! Dom will realize he's out of his league and give us everything we need to know!"

Magik Knight sighs. "Hmm. Well. If you are going to be relying on me and Lynn, I need to get something. I will return in a few moments." then she teleports away somewhere.

This might be your last chance for privacy in a while. "Hey..." you grab Mike's arm. Despite yourself, your cheeks are reddening a little. "Before we go in there, since we're alone for a moment, ain't you... don't you have anything to say to me?"

Mike looks down and blows air through his nose like a boar snorting. "You read my mind, babe. How about the bathroom?"

You huff. "You...! You're lucky I'm not the kinda girl who makes a habit of slapping guys who mouth off! You're really askin' for, mister!" you stamp your foot, a little more cutely and femininely than you intended. "I apologized to you for my, uh, two-timing! So why ain't you? Were you plannin' to just not say anything about you and that kung fu girl last night?"

"Huh?" Mike looks genuinely surprised, as if the fact that you might be bothered by him fucking your teammate never crossed his mind.

"Oh c'mon!" you say. "She wasn't fooled when we said we were 'training', don't you try and use that explanation on ME now! Whether you're gonna apologize or whatever, say somethin', goddamit!" you say.

"....you mean that wasn't, like, a thing you and her had set up?" Mike says. "I figured you were the one who told her to tag in because I'd given you such a great time. Like... you got me on the ropes, time for your sexy asian sidekick to pile on and grind me into the floor?" he chuckles. "And oh man, did she ever... hey, you two are superheroines, right? Isn't that kinda kinky shit normal?" Even as he's speaking, he wraps his hand around your waist and starts pulling you closer.

"No! You... you...!" you're blushing furiously now, "you sure got a high opinion a' yerself if you think that was the case! Augh! Listen, me and Panda got some kinda influence put on us. She's the one who did it to herself and me, by accident. Making us, uh..." your voice cracks awkwardly, "liable to do stuff like that. Making us want... uh... y'know." you make an 'in-and-out gesture' with your fingers. "Point is, you were takin' advantage! So how about an apology?"

"Sure. Oh, man, of course! I'm totally sorry, Lynn." Mike pulls you into a bear hug. And squeezes you very tightly, followed by putting a kiss on your cheek. "I had no idea. So... how long is Panda's extra-horny technique supposed to last? I'll stay away from her no matter how much she begs for my cock if you ask me to, you're the one I really want. But, if you could just get her to repeat that treatment on you a couple times a week or so- OOF!"

People in the hallway all stop and stare at you, seeing that you just slammed a 250 pound man into the wall with so much **** that it left a small crack in the wall.

A chill runs down your spine. Oh, shit. This is a super-expensive hotel. "I'll... I'll pay for that!" you say awkwardly, before grabbing Mike's arm and dragging him forward so Ilyana doesn't see the damage your temper did.

......

In the midst of the bar area, one man sticks out from the well-dressed couples in suits and cocktail dresses at other tables. There are two muscle-bound bodyguards in sunglasses and impeccable black suits flanking him, but he looks less like the kind of guy who they'd be working for, and more like the kind they would be throwing out of a club. This must be the "Dom" Mike was talking about.

A twentysomething man with his blonde hair done up in dreadlocks and a scraggly beard, he is wearing a tacky lime-green jacket and jeans, and from the way he's sitting, he looks like he's trying to win a slouching competition. Despite the fact that it's not even 1 o'clock yet, there's a champagne bucket on the table. His eyes immediately dart towards you and Magik Knight when you walk in... but when he sees the brick shithouse looming over the two of you from behind, he suddenly sits bolt upright in his chair and gets a fight-or-flight look.

A beefy arm wraps around your waist. Mike confidently strides up with you and Magik Knight in his arms. Sure enough, practically every man in the room (even the ones who already have a date) turns to look at him with envy as he suavely maneuvers a couple of blonde bombshells over to the table. "Hey D-bag. How's life treatin' ya?"

Dom fumbles around in his jacket and pulls out a cigarette, putting it in his mouth. "That faggot Daisaku told me you weren't gonna be here. You can't fuck with me like before. With my dad out of the picture, all his employees work for me now. Right, Ronnie?"

"Right, boss." the shaved-headed bodyguard standing at his left shoulder says.

"...and that includes all the dirt he had on you. So if you think you can just walk up and put your hands on me again-"

"Whoah, whoah, whoah! Dom, my man, calm down!" Mike says with a laugh, 'chivalrously' pulling out a chair for Ilyana, which she gladly takes. You don't give him the opportunity and pull out your own chair.

Rather than sitting down himself, Mike rests a hand on your and Ilyana's shoulders. "All that's ancient history." Mike says. "You and me are both playin' in different leagues now, right? Leagues, with a capital 'L'. As in, the League of Propriety? You may not recognize 'em, but these beautiful young ladies are none other than Magik Knight and Lickety-Split Lynn."

"Errrhhh..." The scraggly information broker strokes his chin as he stares at the two of you. If he's trying to identify you, his intent seems to be to go by your bust sizes rather than your faces. "I keep tabs on all the heroes who like to cause trouble, but I don't recognize either of these two. You tryin' to put one over on me by putting Halloween costumes on a couple of your girls?"

You feel your face heating up again. "'Your girls'? What kinda girls are you sayin' we are, mister?" you lean forward over the table, causing your chest to bounce (which at least gets his attention). "You may not realize it but there's a whole country outside of Acropolis City! You ever hear of the Deadlock Gang? Or the Texas Motorheads? Or that 'Swamp Creature' critter that was blowin' up oil pipelines in the Everglades? Or Iron-Jaw Thompson, the biggest crack kingpin east of the Tennessee? They're all wearing stripes thanks to me! So how about you hurry up and tell-"

Mike puts a finger over your lips to hush you, and then ruffles your hair with his hand. "Heheh, sorry, Lynn tends to get a little overheated sometimes. I know, I know - I ain't one to talk."

Dom finally manages to take his eyes off your tits for a moment and look at your face. He nods slowly. "I did hear about Thompson goin' down, actually. Pretty major player, by the standards of bum-fuck nowhere. But why would real heroines be hanging around with a loose cannon shithead like Madman Mike?" he pauses for a second as he looks for his lighter. "Uh, no offense. No offense to you girls, anyway. Plenty of offense to him - Hey, what the fuck?!"

You look over and see that Magik Knight is no longer in her seat, Rather, she is behind Dom, her pleather-clad breasts resting against the back of his neck as she leans over him from behind. Her black-gloved fingers pluck the cigarette from his mouth.

"We are more than 'hanging around' with him, dahling. We are partners in a crucial investigation." she holds the cigarette up where he can see it. "And there is no smoking in here." She snaps her fingers and the cigarette disappears without a trace. "Follow the rules, or else the next time, I will send you with it. And you will not like finding out where it went." In the blink of an eye she's teleported back to her own chair.

Mike chuckles again. "Yeah, what can I say? I'm a sucker for a pretty face. These girls practically dragged me into it, and who was I to say no? You can see what kinda powers they have. Oh, I guess Lynn didn't get to show hers off yet. But trust me, if you get to see it, especially in private, you're gonna love it."

You sputter awkwardly and look up at him. "The heck is that supposed to mean?!"

"Oh," Magik Knight says, "but he is quite right. You should see how Lynn uses it with me. I am so very lucky to have her." She edges her chair closer to yours and puts an arm over your shoulder, curling her finger down to cup your left tit and give it a soft squeeze. You're so surprised by her boldness that you don't even push her away.

The college-dropout-looking criminal fixer sitting across from you stares at the two of you with wide bloodshot eyes. "Holy shit... you two are, uh, like, an item?"

"No! Heck no!" you protest. "I only just m-MMMM!" you are cut off as Ilyana lunge sand presses her ruby red lips against yours, kissing you noisily. She sticks her tongue in your mouth. Your cute freckled nose rubs up against hers. For some reason, like a reflex, you press the palm of your hand against her bare midriff. Her skin is so soft and pleasant to touch...

A string of saliva clings to her lips as she pulls away from you and pulls you close. For his part, Dom can do nothing but stare at the two of you slack-jawed, clearly at a loss for words.

"Heh heh... don't they make a nice couple?" Mike asks. "Y'know, they still have to kinda keep it on the down low since the League doesn't exactly approve of those kind of relationships, at least not publicly."

"We aint a...!" you start to protest, but Ilyana whispers in your ear: "Shhhh, just play along. Lynn."

"Uhhhh...." Dom stammers unsteadily in his gravelly voice. His bodyguards are only slightly more disciplined about gawking.

"Now let's be honest, Dom." Mike says. "I know that you're working with this new chick who's trying to cash in on her daddy's influence and set herself up as a big underworld player. Not at all like you, of course." he says with a sardonic chuckle. "Plenty of differences. I mean, her I would fuck, for one thing. But the point is, you're clearly her number-one contact right now."

"Oh fuck no." Dom says, looking away. "I'm not getting into THAT shit. I thought you were here looking for info on that pimp you've been in a little turf war with, 'Red-whatever'. If you're trying to get me to give you info on Deathsmite's daughter, you can take a fuckin' walk. I'm not suicidal."

Mike just chuckles good-naturedly, pearly whites showing from under his moustache like usual. "See, that's the exact same thing I told these girls when they came askin'! I told em, listen, just because they gave me a nickname like 'Madman' doesn't mean I'm dumb enough to even think about crossing somebody within one degree of separation of the world's deadliest assassin..."

He leans down and puts his face close to you and Ilyana. You gulp nervously, as an excited tingle runs up your leg in spite of your better judgment.

"...but," Mike says, "they were really determined to.... heheheh... squeeze it out of me. And when they work together, oof... how's a guy like me gonna hold out against that?'

"Holy shit...!" Dom practically chokes. "You don't mean.. but I thought you said...."

"I sure do." Mike says cockily. "I mean, sure they both prefer girls, but that doesn't mean they're averse to giving a little private show for an audience of one lucky guy, get it? Or at least, that's how it starts out. You never know how things might end up." He rests one hand on your shoulder, and one on Ilyana's.

"Or," Mike says, "you can try and run and warn the Deathsmite chick these girls are after her. But since one of 'em can outrun a car and the other can teleport, I dunno if I'd recommend it. I thought about it, but the longer they worked on convincing me to help them, the more glad I was I didn't try to ditch them."

"Um," you really feel like you should say something but you aren't sure what. "that's... he's... we did come here so you'd tell us where the new villain is gonna strike, but..."

Dom jumps up out of his seat so fast he knocks over the champagne bucket. "I know! I absolutely know that! But, uh, we gotta get out of a public place like this before I say anything else!" He sweeps around the table and grabs both you and Ilyana by your shoulders, pulling you rudely to your feet. He wraps his arms around both of you, and starts walking you towards the elevators.

You could easily dig your heels in and stop. But for some reason, you keep walking. Ilyana seems so confident. And... for the moment, she's just putting her hand around your waist and rubbing you softly. If you give her an excuse she's likely to do more than that. But, once you get to that hotel room... you gulp. Maybe you'll be able to get the information before she has time to drag you into, into...

You keep expecting Mike to suddenly spring the trap and use this as an excuse to beat this creep's ass and threaten to throw him off the roof or something. But no yelp of pain ever comes. You look back over your shoulder at where Mike is still at the table. He sees you looking... and his response is to suggestively waggle his eyebrows and give you a thumbs up.

Silently fuming, you look back ahead as you enter the elevator. You can feel the eyes of everyone Dom passes in the hallway roving all over you and Ilyana. A couple of guys you hear muttering with your enhanced hearing: 'Damn! Lucky bastard!' 'Whoah, are they filming a movie in here, or...?' 'Holy shit, two superheroines? Who *is* that guy?'

Last night you'd felt so safe with that big bastard who brought you here, just like when he'd saved you from those opportunistic mobsters while you were tied up. But charging to your rescue is the opposite of what he's doing. On the contrary, if anything, he looks perversely excited and pleased with himself. 'Isn't he supposed to be protecting me?!' you think... not that this scuzzy stool pigeon is any kind of a physical threat to you, but still.

The three of you enter a richly-furnished hotel room on the top floor. It's a fancier place than you've ever slept in. And the guy who has the room key is the one who looks the least like he belongs here. Yet here he is.

Time to use your wit and powers of persuasion to solve an issue instead of your fists. "A-alright then, Mister 'Dom'," you say. "We know a lil' secret about Deathsmite that most of your fellow outlaws don't."

"Outlaws?" Dom chuckles. "Heh heh. That has a nice ring to it." He goes over to the queen-sized bed, sits on the edge, kicks off his shoes, and begins taking off his jacket.

You continue, speaking quickly and nervously while trying to sound confident. "The League has a deal with her daddy, where she'll get allowed to escape from jail any time she gets put in! So even if you help us stop her, she'll be outta the pen lickety-split!"

"Pfffft." Dom chuckles. "I think I like your girlfriend's sexy Russian accent better than I like yours, babe."

"Grrr....!" You ball your fists and blow air through your nose. "I'm tellin' ya, you got nothing to lose by helping us get this new Lady Deathsmite! Anybody who hears about her gettin' out will assume you arranged for it, ain't nobody gonna blame you for us hauling her in. So if you were smart, you'd just agree to help, because otherwise we're gonna drag your butt in to the cops!"

The bearded man takes his hands away from his lap for a second and raises an eyebrow, and reply with a scornful snort. "And tell them what? That I was having lunch suspiciously?"

"You..." you gulp. "You already admitted that you know her, that you sold her info on a job! We could- AHHHH!"

While you were rambling, Magik Knight sidled up to you moved her hand down between your legs. She strokes your sensitive slit through the surface of your outfit. After just a few seconds of rubbing with her index finger, there's clearly a wet spot there.

"Mmm, there's no need to be nervous, Lynn." your sultry teammate says. "I still owe you from last evening, yes? Let me help you work off some of that stress..."