and an aphrodisiac

Miss Haller switched off the GIF trap now that Rocketgirl was fully restrained. The heroine, recognizing her liberation, struggled mightily against the heavy manacles but could not break free. Miss Haller nodded to the man behind her desk, who pushed a button ratcheting the manacles as tight as they would go. Now Rocketgirl could only strain against them, her hands and feet twitching, her head occasionally peeking down her chest to see if she was making any headway. She wasn't.

"You must be terribly thirsty, Rocketgirl," Miss Haller said with mock concern. "And so dehydrated. All those hours you've spent straining and struggling in my GIF trap." Rocketgirl swallowed hard, acknowledging to herself the truth of this statement. She was parched.

"Let's see if we can't get you a drink," Miss Haller continued. She nodded to another henchman, who wheeled over a cart with what looked like a large water cooler. Protruding from its base was a long, thin, clear plastic hose. Against her better judgment, Rocketgirl opened her lips, craning her head as though she could will the hose to her mouth and begin sucking down the precious water. The henchman helped, pulling the hose down and pushing it gently into the heroine's mouth. Rocketgirl grunted a soft objection when he continued to shove the hose further down her throat; her gag reflex kicked in but she couldn't push the hose back out. It was now firmly lodged in her throat. Her lips closed around the hose, eager for the water she knew would come. Her nostrils flared, taking in as much air as possible now that they were her only means of breathing.

Miss Haller knelt down and pushed a nasal breathing tube into Rocketgirl's nostrils. The heroine's brow furrowed in anxiety; why did Miss Haller want her breathing through this tube? Why couldn't she just breathe air from the room around her?

"You're breathing a special infusion of my very own design, Rocketgirl," Miss Haller explained. "Smells just like regular air, doesn't it? But it's mixed with the most potent, strongest aphrodisiacs known to drive women wild with lust, sometimes to certifiable madness. Did you enjoy your sexual encounter with Melvin? Your first ever, I believe. Well exposure to this aphrodisiac for only thirty minutes should practically guarantee you become a sex-addicted slut for the rest of your life."

"Nnnnnrrrr," Rocketgirl groaned into the hose. She tried to thrash her head but as tightly as she was strapped to the floor, the most she could muster was a slow, twitching nod. She wouldn't be able to shake the breathing tube.

"Now let's get you that drink," Miss Haller said, nodding to the henchman who twisted a valve on the water cooler. Rocketgirl watched with some confusion as a thick, clear liquid slowly cascaded down the hose. That doesn't flow as smoothly as water should, she thought warily.

Second later her throat burned as the liquid found its way inside. "gggRRRRRRmmmmm!" she howled in agony, her eyes bulging as she struggled to cough up the liquid, to no avail. Instead, to avoid suffocating, she could only swallow as the stuff continued to pump, pump, pump down her throat. She could feel it continue to burn as it worked its way into her stomach.

"Tell me, Rocketgirl," Miss Haller asked calmly. "Have you ever tasted ****? No? Of course not, a goody two-shoes like you. Well, what you're drinking now is 200-proof pure malt grain liquor. It's not the best tasting stuff, I know, but we've got thousands of gallons of it ready to feed you -- more than enough to do the trick. I'm going to make you an alcoholic, Melissa. And a nymphomaniac. Two addictions for the price of one! What do you think that will do to your superheroine career?"

Rocketgirl let a single tear roll down her cheek, the culmination of her fear and anxiety at what Miss Haller was telling her combined with the still-sharp pain of the grain **** accumulating inside her.

"To get the process kick-started, what say we boost that metabolism of yours?" Miss Haller asked. She activated GIF #2: Writhing head-bang, and watched with satisfaction as Rocketgirl's struggles became more violent, but no more effective. The heroine's eyes snapped shut under the enforced GIF, and her lips failed to properly articulate the muffled groan of "Let me go!" Miss Haller turned the internal dial up to its highest point, ensuring the hyperventilating heroine's body would process the aphrodisiac and the pure **** as quickly as possible.