A breakthrough

'Fuck, fuck, fuck…!'

Pre-cum leaked. The mere whiff of it caused chaos. Somebody pulled down on his sack hard whilst several wet tongues slobbered over his tip.

"Cum! Cum!"

"Mmm! It's completely different from my hubby's!"

"Soooo good!"

His cock twitched again. He wanted to lather them in his baby batter. Unfortunately, as he had been staring into the eyes of these women, naturally creating eye contact, his hypnosis had activated over and over again.

Twelve times, his hypnosis activated. Twelve times, it had the opportunity to grow.

Something snapped in Aaron. A realization. A breakthrough. An understanding.

The fragrance of sex and desire tainted everyone here, including Aaron, so he adapted. He learned. He remembered.

"You answer to me…right?" Aaron asked. The club grew silent. The claps of flesh stopped. A pin could be heard dropping.

Then, he received heart-eyes and screams.

"Yes! Yes, we do! Everything belongs to you."

It wasn't just the twelve women who screamed their obedience. The men did as well. The spectators, the watchers, were under his spell.

How?

It was as the Manhunter said: he could do anything as long as he willed it–as long as he had the mind for it. A grasp of its intent and usage. Including, of course, Poison Ivy's legendary pheromones.

He copied it. He copied Poison Ivy's near-unstoppable pheromones.

Aaron Reigner could now exude sexual pheromones of his own. He suspected it was stronger than Ivy's given how easily every single person here fell into the chemical.

The telepathic linkup put a little stress on his head but it was nothing crazy. He was able to organize it like shuffling a document of papers.

The guard. Standing at the door, silent, he was also under his control. Cassandra and Barbara had already slipped past him. There was no need to waste time.

Like Moses parting the sea, the crowd of sex addicted men and women backed away and allowed him to reach the guard without interference. This was great, he wouldn't have to step through a bunch of people fucking doggy-style.

His erection faded and fell onto his thigh like thunder. The guard in the skull mask didn't react. The man was a foot taller than Aaron but had a dick four times smaller.

"Did the Chinese girl and redhead go this way?" Aaron asked.

"Yes," the guard responded. "They had VIP passes and claimed to be coming on the Penguin's behalf."

"Who is in there now?"

"Bruno Mannheim, El Penitente, the Great White Whale, Johnny Stitches, Gabriel Santo, and a representative of East Side Dragons."

"Good memory," Aaron praised. "Treat yourself to that tall chick with the bob cut back there. Maybe the two of you can procreate the next NBA star." The guard did not waste a second and dashed to the intended woman. He could hear them smooching loudly. Aaron didn't look back as he announced, "The rest of you: get back to your regular schedule."

He promptly opened the door and went in. Behind him, in muffles, he could hear the club begin anew. There was a hall and at the end of it was a door with several guards, all on the floor and ****.

"Must have been Cass and Barbara…" he muttered.

The first guard was likely an employee of the club. He didn't know what was happening nor the vital contents of what he was guarding. These guys were naked, sure, but built for battle. He saw tattoos belonging to the Russian mafia: a six-sided star.

Above, the ventilation shaft was hanging open. To eavesdrop on the room, he suspected Cassandra and Barbara climbed into the vents.

'But…wait, why is the door open then?'

He checked the metal knob. Indeed, it was loose and unlockable.

'Was somebody trying to get out and failed…?'

His deductive mind understood the jist of what happened. It wasn't good.

"Don't tell me…" Sighing wearily, with his arms pushing forward, he entered the meeting room. Inside was a circular table and a dozen seats, all trashed and wrecked. The Great White Whale, Bruno Mannheim, El Penitente; the recognizable faces were drooling and bruised. It was a contained space and gave little for combat. Darkly-lit, secret rather than well-protected as the schematics had stated.

Speaking of Barbara, the voluptuous redhead was currently ragging on the leader of Intergang.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up…!" Barbara was squatting on the table and shaking the square-shaped male. Her shapely ass was jutting out. "God, if I wasn't rusty, we wouldn't have gotten caught…"

Before Aaron could speak, Cassandra appeared beside him. "Hi."

A little wave. Aaron chuckled. "Hey."

"Oh! You're here!" Barbara craned back and sent a smile. Through her mask, he saw her eyes drift down to his crotch and she blushed like a ripe tomato. Instantly, she went back to badgering the **** Bruno Mannheim.

"Let me guess: you guys got caught and had to knock everyone out?"

Cassandra crossed her arms under her bust. "Mhm."

"I…" A deep, frustrated exhale from Barbara. She released Bruno, walked on the table, and leapt down to them. "It was my fault. I was rusty. If Cassandra had gone by herself, we would have been able to hear the entirety of their plans. All we managed to hear before I fell out of the ventilation system was that their investors have started to pull out."