She is at the mercy of a so-called hero... who has none

"Ahh... hahaha..." You give a buck-toothed smile and giggle softly, looking at Caterpillar sympathetically. "Good joke. I think she gets the idea. Come on, 'Cathy' - go ahead and spill everything you know, or you will be in some serious trouble."

"Ah ah ah ah -" Jokester holds up his hand and makes a 'shut up' gesture with his fingers and thumb. "Quiet Bunny. Don't talk like you know me. This is your audition and, let's be frank, you're not doing great so far. If this bitch wasn't so green - figuratively, I mean - I might be thrashing around dying in agony from a nerve toxin right now. And I haven't made a single joke tonight. I don't bring my real material out unless there's call for it. Besides... heh... any comedy writer will tell you that there's rarely any comedy without... suffering."

He gestures at you sharply. This guy is one of those slick, macho bad-ass types that you have always had trouble standing up to, and you don't have a retort ready before Jokester is speaking again. "Now snap to. Oh... and you, punk..." he adds, glaring at the college kid disdainfully, "I assume I don't have to twist your arm on this since you're gonna be getting some. But in case you're even dumber than you look and are thinking about trying to slip free here, keep in mind, Gun Bunny over there is a very green soldier and probably doesn't know her own strength yet. If you make the mistake of fighting back, you'll probably freak her out and make her break your back with one kick."

"What?! No! Are you out of your f-f-freaking mind? Don't even joke about doing that to Cathy... and hey!" The young guy scoots a few feet away, and, not wanting to throw a challenging look back at your mentor, you advance on him. As you reach down to grab his arm he jerks away, eyes widening. "Hey! I'm being serious here, lady! Stay away from me!"

You crack your knuckles, unload your gun and put the mag in the small pouch you wear at the small of your back, then lay the weapon down on the table behind you. "I don't think you're really appreciating the situation you're in here, man. Weren't you listening when I said that I am NOT from any police squad or league of do-gooders? We're here to get what Caterpillar knows, not for you, so just do what you're told and it will make things easier for everyone."

"Wait a second! I'm... oh hell, I don't care what they charge me with, I'm calling the police right now! Just tell that creep to get away from her." Griff says. You roll your eyes. "You think this place even has a working phone line?" You giggle. "C'mon... please? Can't you please just do as he says?" you say, using a softer voice. "Besides, I kinda want to see the 'gun show' you've got going on there." you add with a wink. "If you're really helpful I might be able to convince Jokester to let you go. You're really cute, it would be a shame for you to have to rot in prison or worse."

"Or worse?' What is that supposed to mean?" The young man's expression changes, gradually shifting from being mortified into sour, brow-furrowing indignation. "What is your problem?! Are you and him both mental patients? She's not a super-villain or anything, she's a college student for Christ's sake! There is no 'ESP' ****, it's just stuff to sell to a bunch of frats and sororities. You're taking this way too far!"

Your response is non-verbal - you hop forward and press your chest right up against him. It's so quick that he isn't able to back away before you put your arms around his broad chest and squeeze, as if giving him a too-friendly hug. The physical boldness of it makes him stop in his tracks and he doesn't back away. While you're pulling his jacket down from the neck and sliding it off him, he grabs you by the waist and gives a firm push - but you can tell that he likes what he feels too much to use his full strength. Then he paused a moment and pushed harder, making a little startled "Guh...?" as if he was genuinely surprised you didn't let go immediately.

Right now, your pride demands that you don't brook any dissent, so you push forward. He stumbles back a few feet, keeping his footing adeptly at first, but there's a flower-pot in his way and he topples backward with a clatter, with you ending up right on top of him. He tries to **** you back with one of his knees but you wiggle your hips in between his legs, which end up wrapping around your waist while his hands come up to try and fend your arms off. The enhancement process that turned you into Gun Bunny hasn't improved your upper body strength all that much - but your legs are a different story, so although he holds you back for a minute, it doesn't stop you from shifting up to straddle him and squeeze his torso between your thighs. "Aaaa-ughhh! Oh shit! I give, I give---!" he gasps, quickly pressed to the point of being unable to breathe and going back to being panicked.

"Geez, what a wimp." you blow a strand of white hair out of your eyes and forcefully yank his shirt off, up over his head, and then bend down to pull down his jeans, leaving him in his tightie whities. "Not bad looking... but c'mon, man, where is your confidence? If you were a real man, you would already have had Caterpillar in the palm of your hand, she's totally weak-willed, I can tell!" you clear your throat and stand up off of him, putting down a hand as if to help him to his feet. "It's funny you know, at first I was thinking you're just my type. If it was a few years ago you're the kind I would have asked out on a date. But now, I've learned that there's a kind who can act when everything is on the line, and a kind who can't - and your fuckin' college football team doesn't qualify. You're a scared little baby pissing his diaper, is what I'm saying. How does it feel knowing I'd rather sleep with that perverted, foul-mouthed grandpa back there than you?"

While Griff is standing up you bend over to go through the pockets of his jeans, which he protests... not that you listen. You pull out his wallet and fish an ID out of it, not bothering to look at the moment but tucking it in your glove for safekeeping. Then, you laugh as you turn the wallet open. A lot of bills come spilling out, which you sweep aside with your hand to reveal a cherry red condom wrapper. "Look!" you point, making the guy cringe and look back over his shoulder, fleeing your gaze. "See that? Caterpillar, can you see from over there on the table? Looks like he did have some ideas!"

You giggle and hold it up, to make sure she can see. The young man squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, his ego writhing in agony. Caterpillar is still laying back on the table. Her expression is a surprisingly calm, mildly perturbed pout. Her reactions to just about everything have been very muted. Come to think of it, you're pretty sure she didn't even flinch when the guns went off. Since she was apparently getting high on something when you and Jokester arrived, it isn't that surprising.

"I," Caterpillar says with a sniff, sparing the condom a perfunctory glance, "think it's a sign of him being thoughtful and considerate, whether it was supposed to be for me or anyone else. Griff, I know this might not be the best time to say it, but I'm not seeing anybody seriously at the moment, and normally I wouldn't mind if you asked me to go out with you.. But it isn't wise to be dating while we're also in business together. Just stay calm until these crazy vigilantes accept the fact that I've already told them what I know, and we can talk about it more. Only if it wouldn't feel weird though."

The poor kid stutters and stammers, unable to formulate much of a response before you clamp your hand over his mouth. "Ok, ok. Shhh, I'm doing you a favor here. Let's see what you've got going on." Before Griff can object any further you pounce just as he's about to try standing up and grab his undies by the rim, yanking them all the way down until they come off in your hand, leaving him completely stripped in front of 3 pairs of eyes.

It's not all the way hard, but it sure isn't soft. What it is, for you, is a eye-full... Not the biggest you've ever seen, but as that purple head started inching up towards you a tiny smidgen at a time, you appreciate that it started thick and was getting thicker. Ever since you'd gotten that funky rabbit-soldier-serum it had only taken a single glimpse of a nude person to get you immediately.

Jokester lets out a coarse chuckle. Satisfied Caterpillar isn't going anywhere, he has pulled out a spray bottle from his bandolier and is using one hand to apply it to the sites where the venomous caterpillar hairs had pierced him, while the other hand clips the tip off of a fresh cigar... hadn't he just lit a new one on the way over? Either he smoked like a chimney when you weren't watching, or he just liked dramatically lighting the damn things.

"Jeez," your not-mentor said, gesturing with the unlit cigar like he was doing standup, "it's a good thing I wasn't in the high school locker room next to someone like THIS guy. Mighta given me some kind of a complex, prevented me from developing into the sane, responsible, conscientious public servant I am today. Don't be shy, Bunny - I'm still kinda pissed with you, but remember: this moment isn't about you or me or even Blitz Donkeydick over there. It's all, aaaaaall about making Caterpillar miserable. So go ahead and get him warmed up and ready.

"Uh," you say, clearing your throat and sputtering a little in spite of yourself, "D-did they have high school back in the B.C. era?" you awkwardly toss back at him. It doesn't go over well - Jokester just chuckled and clicks his tongue. "Was that a laugh line, Gun Bunny? Eeesh. Don't quit your day job, of killing people. We are, in fact, doing a job here. You should be doing a 'job', on him, right now. One of several, at the very least. Then lay him out on the table there and we can get started." Turning from you, her moved back to Caterpillar who was still laying down and put his hands down over her chest, giving both of her enviably perky tits a hard squeeze. That, at last, got a real reaction out of Caterpillar - a really sharp, shocked gasp, followed by her trying to pry his hands off.

"W-whoah, man, what are you doing?" she said. Her eyes widened. Nervously, she started to laugh slowly. "HA... aha ha ha ha... you... you got me, Mr. Vigilante. I'm... I'm buying it." she swallowed a little. "Listen, I may not know about this red tree lady but you can be very sure that I am going to make finding what you want to know a main priority! THE main priority! The main-est, okay? You've... made your point."

You watch, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable yourself in spite of your own permanently altered state of mind. But the smile Jokester gives her in response is the opposite of kind. "I don't hear dick-hardening noises, Bunny."

That one little sardonic quip is a kill-shot to your conscience. The voice telling you to put a stop to this before it becomes something genuinely horrible dies very suddenly. "Well," you say in a tone that suggests you're trying to maintain your cool as you drop down to a sitting posture and seize the length of jock-cock in front of you, "it isn't like this is something I have a ton of experience with. I think I'd rather still be dealing with the PG-13 kind of wriggling, mutant worm right now." Griff makes one little step to back away from your reach, but your thighs snap around his ankles like a bear trap, keeping him in place. "I think the mutual friend who referred me might've misheard me when I told him I'm NOT a porn-star or stripper by day."

There's no immediate response from that except a snort and Griff's strangled breathing, so you figure you said the right thing. Instead, Jokester addresses the kid in your grip as he kneads and squeezes the young villainous scion's chest. "Hey, Kid - I know you've gotta have been asking yourself this question since you laid eyes on this bitch - and you'll be pleased to know the answer is, yes, they're all real. If you do good and make her squeal - the information kind of squeal, heheh - I'll have Bunny let your hands free so you can feel for yourself."

You can't see what he's doing to Caterpillar, or Griff's reaction - your whole vision is filled by the coarse hair running down from his navel to his upper hips as you lick up and down his stiffy like a lollipop. Ok, so maybe sucking two different dicks in two different places wasn't what you'd had in mind for your first night as a super-commando-vigilante but, you figure with a little shrug, this is the 1990s, it's not a big deal anymore. His length is hot and tangy with sweat on your tongue as you take the whole thing in, slobbering on it enthusiastically so you don't feel tempted to get spooked and back down.

"He's looking at you, Cutie Caterpillar." Jokester rasped again. "I can see you got your eyes shut, but he's been watching me. Really, I was gonna lay off and switch tactics until I saw you get all bothered by this. Didn't you know that this kind of sick shit was your scumbag father's favorite pastime? He was enjoying a show just like Gun Bunny and me are about to practically every time I dropped in on him."

"Nnnnnhhh! Stop!" was her response... no longer zoned our or laid back on account of his finger having slid down between her crotch and violently massaging the cleft in her panties. She writhed in his grip but it seemed she didn't have any kind of super-human physicality to go with her odd villainous schtick. Contemptuously, he grabbed her over-elaborate pointy hat with his teeth and tossed to to the floor before wrapping his arm menacingly around her neck to control her movements from behind.

"Ok, Bunny, that's enough," he said after you were just starting to get into the sensations of polishing his doorknob. You pulled back, a tiny string of your saliva hanging between you and him. "I can't trust you not to keep it up too long and 'blow' our opportunity. Bring him over."

Your earlier rib-bruising erotic wrestling match still on his mind, Griff doesn't resist much as you hop up and forcefully drag him over by your grip on his now-quite-slicked cock. After one last bit of stalling - you still hope that Jokester will reveal he's just having a bit of fun at these two criminals' expense any moment now - you push Griff down onto the table. With your palms against his firm, rippling pectorals, you push him down against the clammy particle board. It's probably not the romantic first time he'd imagined with his would-be supervillain would-be girlfriend.

"Wait - Fuck, damn, I mean... I'm not fighting back, okay? But, uh, 'Gunbunny'," he says with a gulp, "you found the... the..." his cheeks looked like they were about to ignite, "the THING in my wallet, right? Could you... let me get that at least, if it has to be this way?"

Jokester clicked his tongue again. "You gonna dignify that with a response, Bunny?" Again, it was like a spell was on you, forcing you to play along with the cool, anti-hero act: "Nope." you say flatly, and only respond with a swat on the exposed side of the young man's ass. "So," you say, getting into that act, "how did the story go? Magical wonderland, blah blah blah, **** use, allegory, blah blah, and then there was an arrogant high and mighty caterpillar that liked to act unfazed about everything and talk in riddles. Sitting on a mushroom."

"This toxic afterburn isn't going away," your partner says, wincing behind his domino mask, "and I'm afraid I'll really lose my damn temper if she wiggles them around and makes them stab me deeper. You can cover them both for the second, new girl. This, is what we call, a real hard-core, take-no-prisoners investigation."

Heat building up and your breathing quickening, you nod hastily, taking Caterpillar from behind. She's quite a bit taller than you, and pretty strong for her slight, feminine frame - she starts to really give you trouble until Jokester shoots her a really hard look and makes her stiffen up. Lifting with your legs, you still grunt with effort as you take her hips in your grasp, your fingers digging into the soft bubble butt she usually keeps hidden under her over-elaborate dress. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but you swear that you see she has her one little, tidily-trimmed patch of pubic hair shaved into the shape of a butterfly. Somehow, that kills much of what sympathy you still feel for her.

Aiming her carefully, and not hesitating to get your nose mere inches away from Griff's cock-head and her now-exposed pussy, your arms and shoulders burn with effort as you support the whole weight of a woman larger than yourself and gradually lower her onto the 'mushroom head' that has sprouted aiming straight up at her. She gasps, bites her lip and gives a strangled whine, wriggling her hips and trying to stop his unprotected cock from slipping in between the folds of her flower. But it's still very wet, and she is a little bit, too - so even though she remains tense, she only succeeds in twisting her opening all around the hard head of his cock like a lemon half on a juicer before it forces her open completely and that thick salami starts vanishing into her inches at a time. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there's no blood... just a moment of tense silence as she slides down until well over half of him his stuffed inside her and her ass is resting on his taut abs, contorting her hips backward uncomfortably so she can rest there without the last couple inches penetrating. Quivers run through her stocking-clad thighs.

"So the real question is - which one of them should be more worried about where the other has been? Can you believe the state of our higher education institutions these days, turning out whole crops of vermin like this?" Even with all the pain he was experiencing, Jokester chuckled with the most genuine amusement you've heard from him all night. "Now, get Cutie Caterpillar moving. The clock is ticking. She's sitting on a time-bomb... two of them, actually. And I think, just for grins, I'm gonna ask about that CIA operative again..."

God - why is this sick situation turning you on? What have you gotten yourself into...? Well... there's no going back now, is there? The rubicon has been crossed good and hard. You pick the gorgeous, statuesque young woman's hips up again and start to bounce her up and down, drawing an alarmed gasp from her each time. "Cathy... oh... Cathy..." Griff moans in a mix of guilt and pleasure. "I'm... sorry... I can't help..."