Toxic, Part 13

(by Smokedawg, 17 December 2009)


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Toxic, Part 13

By Smokedawg (aka JbouleyJdog)

Blog: http://betterwithsmoke.wordpress.com

E-mail: pseudojeff@msn.com

All DC Comics characters used for entertainment purposes only, and remain the
copyright of DC Comics and its affiliate and/or parent companies.

NOTE 1: This story is inspired by an idea presented to me by Blackbladder,
the author of many memorable smoking fetish tales, including the Buffy the
Vampire Slayer fan fiction story, "Demon Weed."

NOTE 2: If you find the mention of Superman's harsh actions toward Nick
O'Teen in this story and its various chapters to be out of character, I
should mention that in one of the early 1980s anti-smoking campaign
commercials featuring Nick O'Teen, Superman is indeed depicted as ruthlessly
flinging the man into the sky toward some buildings.

NOTE 3: The more this story goes on, the more I am, of course, messing with
DC continuity. Although most of this takes place in a relatively recent part
of DC superhero history (late 2009/early 2010), I've picked some things from
earlier points in the timelines and mixed and matched a bit. We'll just call
it artistic license instead of laziness, shall we?

----------------------------------------------

"Give him to me."

The words from her cousin's mouth were not a demand. Not a threat. Nor even a
plea.

To Nicoletta, Justine's words sounded like a personal necessity.

"Justine, it's not that..."

"Toxine!" her cousin hissed. Again, it was not truly aggressiveness nor
challenge. She was all indirect anger born of aching need and seething
frustration. "Justine might as well have died in that vat. It was Toxine that
came out. Call me by the name I wish, not the name you've known all these
years."

Toxine met Nicoletta's eyes, and Nicoletta could see the color of them
shifting, but she was pleased that even in distress, her cousin was
maintaining almost full physical cohesion-in weeks and months past, her face
would have begun to droop or her fingers elongate or little wisps of noxious
fumes would be jetting from her pores-or worse. 

But while Nicoletta made this assessment, she did so silently, and she said
nothing to Toxine yet, trying to gauge the situation. After a few heartbeats,
Nicoletta decided that when all else failed, a smoke was never the wrong
choice, and she lit one up, never letting the locked gaze with her cousin
break.

After Nicoletta had burned down her cigarette noticeably with three long,
slow, deliberate inhales, Toxine finally composed herself, broke the staring
contest and looked down-appearing embarrassed with herself. She sighed and
spoke again. "Please."

"Please call you Toxine, or please give Flash to you?" Nicoletta asked.

"Both."

"The former I can do, and if it will make you feel better to discard the name
Justine Teena, I'll let it go, too. I love you too much to hurt you, and if
your old name hurts you, then you are Toxine to me from now on, at least when
we're not in public or around normal employees," Nicoletta said, and took a
quick puff, and exhaled. "The latter, though, I cannot do."

"I thought you loved me too much to hurt me," Toxine responded tartly.

"I love you too much to give in to your needs too soon," Nicoletta said. "We
just captured Flash. We've barely even gotten him prepped for the
procedures."

"Just give him to me for a few days first? He can probably handle that."

"Do you want to gamble the rest of your life on `probably' my dear?"
Nicoletta asked. "We've planned so long for finding you someone who could
last a lifetime, and you picked Wally West-the Flash. Do you really want to
start over from scratch-and have to go with someone other than your first
choice because you broke him? Killed him perhaps?"

For several minutes, Toxine said nothing, and Nicoletta smoked. When the
burning cherry of her cigarette hovered on the edge of the filter, Toxine
took it from her cousin's fingers and took several deep drags. The smell of
the burning filter was sharp-acridly unpleasant-but Nicoletta said nothing.
Toxine required toxins as much as she did air, food and water now, and she
dabbled in a wide variety of noxious consumption.

Toxine never released what she had just inhaled-simply absorbed it deeply
into her body. It seemed to center her, and she sighed. "I'd like a fresh
cigarette, if you don't mind. What I did just now helped, but I can't say I
enjoyed it, precisely speaking."

Nicoletta handed her a Gloriana, and Toxine lit it with her fingertip,
generating a fierce chemical heat. She took several deep drags, and Nicoletta
drank deep of her cousin's exhales, welcoming the taste and smell of fresh
tobacco smoke to clear out the lingering fumes from the burning filter
before.

"How long, Nic?"

"Three days for full colonization by the first set of nanobots," Nicoletta
answered, then paused to light a Gloriana of her own and let their smoke
mingle. It was good to have Toxine back in her right mind; good to be working
like family again. "We'll start the gene treatments two days in, and that
takes a week, so that makes nine days until we can do the second set of
nanos. Another four days for them to settle in, then two days of observation.
If all seems well, you two can get start getting acquainted then and set up
house-figuratively speaking. I hope you still plan to live here in the
building rather than running off to the suburbs or something. Lord knows your
apartment is big enough for two. Four or five, for that matter."

Toxine took several huge inhalations, making the ash of her cigarette long,
and the air smoky. "I've waited this many months. I suppose another couple
weeks won't kill me."

"I certainly hope not," Nicoletta joked. "Uncle would never forgive me if I
let that happen."

* * * 

Smokeslave suffered in the semi-darkness of his chamber, women circling him
and smoking those cigarettes that so pleasurably caged what little will he
could boast anymore, while they whispered Nicoletta's name and reminded him
that it was she he served.

He desired release so badly. He wanted Lois in his arms so deeply. He wanted
to be fr...no...not free, exactly. No, not that. Never that. Slavery to
Nicoletta was his life now. He could imagine nothing else in his life
mattering except for his marriage to Lois. He was bound to two women now-one
by obedience and the other by love.

He simply wanted enough freedom to stoke the fires of that love again and
show Lois how sorry he was and how much he needed her, too-as much as
Nicoletta but in a different way.

But he suffered, because that was denied him.

Denied until he had made up for crippling Nicoletta's father when the man was
Nick O'Teen.

How could I have done that? I deserve worse than Nicoletta has done to me.
She has been so merciful. So cruelly and deliciously merciful. So kindly and
sexily harsh with me.

Smokeslave worried that he hadn't had enough chances to prove himself to
Nicoletta and win that modest freedom he desired. So long had it take her to
show him the pleasures of obedience to her that he had been left out of
several of her operations already.

"Please let me prove myself to you, mistress," Smokeslave moaned as smoke
continued to surround and fill him, and as he longed for his wife.

He never knew-and never would-that of the six women circling him and smoking
and whispering sing-song enticements to serve their mutual mistress, one of
them in the skin-hugging latex bodysuits and masks was Lois Lane, serving her
three-times-a-week shift, helping to enslave her husband and becoming ever
more aroused at his submission to their smoky mistress.

Lois smoked, and whispered, and longed for every moment she was there to help
make her husband more a thrall-just as strongly as she desired the end of her
shift, when Nicoletta would touch her in those places that Clark was still
not allowed to enjoy.

* * *

"Do you simply enjoy performing that trick in my presence, or do you imagine
that a real pipe, cigar or cigarette would annoy me?" Wonder Woman asked the
former Green Lantern. Both were sitting in her apartment in the Teena
International building, and the smoking guards that had been set over her
were talking quietly in one corner, enjoying a break from their duties while
the two superheroes chatted.

Wearing his civilian attire and with no other sign of his super-powered
status-as Green Lantern or Viridian-except for his green power ring and a
mostly sleeve-covered, less-powerful wristband version of his hard smoke
gauntlet on the other arm, Hal Jordan glanced down at the green-energy pipe
in his right hand. Quasi-matter in the form of pipe smoke trailed sedately
from that pipe, and Hal took a contemplative pull from the stem of that pipe,
smiling lightly. He let the pseudo-smoke drift out of his mouth slowly,
filling the air between them with a scent both faintly floral but with a
subtle musky and male aroma about it as well.

"This is just convenience, Diana," Hal said. "I know that cigarette or cigar
smoke-or real pipe smoke for that matter-wouldn't bother you. Nicoletta has
been pretty verbose on the subject of seducing you and how much smoke is
playing a part of that. And I don't feel any need to show off; you've seen me
in action too many times doing much more impressive things with my power
ring."

Diana almost felt herself blush at the notion of Nicoletta sharing tales of
their intimacies with Hal, and probably Beth as well, and forced down the
feeling before her skin could begin flushing crimson. She was a warrior and
would show no such girly giddiness. Thinking of Nicoletta's seductions,
though, she couldn't stop her pussy from beginning to warm and soften,
memories of Nicoletta's fingers there just briefly last night still fresh in
her mind.

I haven't given in to her yet, not fully, Wonder Woman considered, but I'm so
very close-and I've stopped trying to fool myself that I won't make love to
her. It's simply become a matter of timing, and of making sure I know where I
stand with my former colleagues and future ones before I do.

"Yes, I've seen you in action quite a lot of times against villains, Hal,"
Wonder Woman noted. "How did it feel to go up against a hero? To go up
against a friend?"

She could see Hal wince a bit at that dig, and Diana smiled inwardly, fully
believing that none of them should take Nicoletta or her plans lightly, no
matter how enmeshed they were in her smoky web.

"You don't seriously think any of that was easy for me, do you, Diana? Even
knowing I wasn't out to hurt Wally, I still participated in abducting him. It
still hurt me. It was still confusing and awkward."

"Satisfying, too?" Wonder Woman goaded.

"Shit," Hal said, and let both the hard smoke and the pipe vanish as he
pulled out a pack of Maxims, extracted one, and lit it up. As he exhaled
heavily, he sighed. "I guess this conversation is going to require some
actual nicotine to bolster me. Look, Diana, you may not agree..."

"What I agree with or do not agree with isn't at issue here, Hal," she
interrupted him. "I don't think there's any question that Nicoletta has
convinced me of many things, and encouraged me to consider seriously many
others. What I want to make sure of is that you are agreeing for the right
reasons with her plans. How much are you considering the lives of your
previous friends, as you serve the desires of your new ones?"

"Diana, given Toxine's needs..."

"Desires, too, Hal. It's not all need. She could exercise self-control."

"Yes, she could, and go mad as a result. Have you met her yet?"

"No."

"Take my word for it. Look, Diana," he said, and took another drag on the
cigarette as he spoke, "Nicoletta is going to back her family first; you, me
and Beth second; and everyone else has to get in line after that. Wally was
going to be captured regardless. I simply wanted it done right. It's largely
because of my friendship with him that there was so little distress to him in
his capture."

"I'm sure it was sufficiently distressing to him, even without violence,"
Wonder Woman countered.

"What is it you want to know, Diana? Do you want me to admit that I felt
satisfaction helping Nicoletta out, bringing Wally into a life that I can
already tell is going to play right into his libido anyway, and conducted a
mission perfectly? Yeah. I feel all those things. Satisfaction and pride. Do
I second-guess whether I should have done it? Do I worry about the next time
I will have to face former colleagues? Do I still wonder if Nicoletta is more
sinister than we think? Do I still worry that this is less about my free will
and choosing to do this and more about my mind being controlled? Yes. Does it
bother me that she's totally enslaved Clark? Every day. But I've chosen my
side, Diana."

She simply nodded, as he took a couple more drags on the cigarette, and as
she passively enjoyed the scent of it in the air. Different than the smoke
her guards used to help keep her from attempting an escape. A more "honest"
cigarette smoke was a welcome change, and a reminder of how much of it
Nicoletta surrounded her with as she worked it into their intimacy more and
more.

"That is good, Hal," Diana said, and snatched the cigarette from his fingers
to take a drag of her own, then handed it back. She didn't even realize she
had fully inhaled until after she released the smoke, and that reminded her,
too, of how easy it was to give into the small desires of Nicoletta's before
the larger ones loomed and forced more difficult self-examination. "Never
forget that we are heroes, and the world needs heroes, not conquerors.
Defenders, not villains. Even if you choose her side, remember that we need
to be careful about whom we fight. The world needs the Justice League, even
if we have been plucked out of its ranks."

Hal nodded as he continued to smoke in silence, and Wonder Woman realized
that even as she urged caution and challenged Hal's beliefs, she had already
essentially chosen Nicoletta's side herself.

But there's no reason to let her know that yet, nor Hal for that matter,
Diana thought.

* * *

Nicholas Teena watched one of the televisions in the common area of the
prison, puffing on a cigarette furiously, a cloud of smoke rising up from
where he sat as if he were a chimney. A small part of him missed that silly
costume of his with its top hat that looked like a smoldering cigarette butt,
and then he shook the thoughts away.

Every once in a while, such memories arose and made him pine for his brief
"career" as a villain and made him wistful, but they didn't last. He imagined
it was some leftover from Manchester Black's manipulation of his mind so long
ago. 

Like taking too many hallucinogens, you open yourself up to the risk of acid
flashbacks, the man once known as Nick O'Teen thought, cursing Manchester
Black's tinkering with his thoughts and smiling at the vengeance that
Nicoletta had wrought on the man. I want out of this prison, but I most
assuredly don't want to be back in costume. I'll leave that to my
daughter-both the getting me out part and the donning the costume part.

Of course, there would also be his own part to play, he reminded himself,
whenever either Batman or Martian Manhunter finally came to pay a visit.

* * *

After having been in a raw and spontaneous battle recently with villains that
afforded no time to set traps or prepare for contingencies, Nicotina had to
admit that this upcoming encounter felt quite a bit less "honest." There was
still tension and still room for failure, defeat and capture, but the feeling
of peril wasn't there as it had been with a foursome of violent and psychotic
villains.

Not like I'm planning to make a habit of being in my armor too often, but
perhaps I'm catching a bit of that "super-powered bug" to go out and cut
loose with my powers, Nicoletta thought as she took one last drag on her
cigarette and materialized the full face mask of her helmet. I can see now
why some people get caught up in this lifestyle. In some ways, it's as
addictive as cigarettes.

"Team Toxic," she said over the comm-link, "this one is our coming-out party.
After this, people will know that we have popular heroes in our midst, but
that we aren't on the side of angels. Though a lot of folks may still wonder
soon if we're on the side of devils, either. If only they knew..."

She heard a couple chuckles over the link, and smiled. This was her team, and
most of the heroes she had captured also waited in the wings to help ensure a
greater chance of success.

"How can you be sure we'll get the targets we want when they respond to our
`crisis'?" Vitriol asked.

"We can't," Beth chimed in as she made a few last adjustments to the power
settings of her Cigarillo armor. "But the bait we're setting out will likely
bring out at least one or two of the most powerful members left in the
Justice League. They no longer have Superman or Wonder Woman. The League has
one less Green Lantern on its side, and the other Green Lantern, John
Stewart, is tied up in some affairs far from Earth right now. So they need to
send out some kind of muscle. If we don't get as many powerhouses as we
suspect we will-or don't get our first choices-we'll just get them later."

In less than a minute, Nicoletta's strike force of remote-controlled robotic
units-cybernetically linked to the paramilitary team that her ex-Marine
logistics and security manager Randall had organized for her-would be
beginning their mayhem. It would take Team Toxic a few minutes to get there
and engage them. By that time, the Justice League would know about the
robotic attack and be en route.

"Let the games begin," Nicotina said, and motioned for them to move out.

* * *

Team Toxic was getting its collective ass handed to it.

Or, rather, so it seemed.

The playacting with the robotic strike team was beginning to get tiresome,
when Nicotina finally got confirmation that a Justice League team was nearing
their location, and confirmation of who seemed to comprise it-making her
smile at one prospect, and cringe at the other. But she knew they both needed
to be neutralized eventually, and it was probably best if she could capture
them at the same time. She relayed the information the team, and then went
back to having her ass handed to her some more.

* * *

The game was officially afoot beginning the moment that Power Girl touched
ground and then landed a vicious punch to the chest of one of the robots,
freeing Nicotina from being pinned by what appeared to be her enemy. Feigning
the need to recover a bit, Nicotina watched the moves of Power
Girl-essentially a much bustier and different-costumed alternate-Earth-or
perhaps alternate-Krypton was more appropriate-version of Supergirl.

The woman was attractive in a different manner than the version of Kara
Zor-El that Nicoletta and Lois Lane had so recently subdued and turned. Aside
from having the most prodigious and famous tits of any active superheroine,
Power Girl wore her hair in a short blonde bob and had a more muscular
physique than Supergirl, as well as a face that was less girlish. There was
no doubt the Power Girl was feminine-there was nothing butch or manly about
her-but she had a slightly more mature and rougher vibe to her, and Nicoletta
was already becoming aroused at the things she might do to the woman-or
convince her to do.

No replacement for Beth, Hal or Diana, but certainly a worthy diversion from
time to time, Nicoletta thought. She let the faceplate of her helmet phase
away and pulled out a pack of drugged cigarettes with blue filters and a thin
red band between that and the tobacco- and drug-laden white tubes-similar to
the cigarettes used with Supergirl but modified to account for the slightly
different physiology of the alternate-universe version of her. It was going
to seem very odd and suspicious soon to the recently arrived heroes that
Nicotina was taking a smoke break while Power Girl fought, but it was all
part of the plan. 

I'm simply going to have to trust that my team can take care of everyone
else, and capture Plastic Man before he can interfere with my part of things,
Nicotina considered, and took a deep, satisfying drag on the cigarette. She'd
finally eliminated the nasty over-sweet cloying flavor of the earlier
versions used on Smokeslave and Supergirl, and she let the smoke roll around
in her mouth before opening her lips a little and sucking down the thick,
slightly-sweet ball of white ecstasy.

While Power Girl was young and sometimes still a bit na´ve and idealistic,
she was also more aggressive than Supergirl, making her an interesting midway
point between the former Superman's and former Supergirl's personalities.
Power Girl was no Girl Scout, but neither was she prone to bursts of brash
recklessness as Supergirl sometimes had been. As she fought the robot, she
struck it with successively harder blows, unable to determine if a human was
inside or not, since it was shielded against her X-ray vision. Power Girl
clearly wanted to finish off the enemy, but didn't want to kill a person
inside, and after five hits, it was clear to her she was dealing with a robot
or remote-piloted drone, and she kicked it in half with a mighty kick and
then backhanded its head right off its shoulders.

When she turned to help out Nicotina, she found the woman already close
behind her, and exhaling an impossibly thick cloud of smoke into her face as
she started to ask, "Are you hur..." Power Girl stopped and coughed lightly,
more out of irritation and reflex than anything else, and felt a strange
tingling feeling that started in her chest and ended in her pussy.

Before she could reshape her words to ask "Why the heck did you do that" or
"What's going on here?" Nicotina had already bathed her face in smoke again
and told her, "Welcome to the party, Power Girl."

* * *

Cigarillo stood as Plastic Man wrapped up one robot in a hyper-elongated arm
and punched another one, which had just pretended to incapacitate Vitriol,
right in its face with an oversized fist.

His neck stretched to bring his face close to hers, and she shivered.
Frankly, Plastic Man had always given her the creeps even before meeting him
up-close now, and she had a feeling there was something about him just
vaguely unbalanced-as if he might just snap and go nuts one day years down
the line. She knew they would have to deal with him, but she had hoped
someone else could have done it instead of him showing up to this faux
battle.

"Justice League hero rescue program at your service, m'dear," he said
jauntily, then joked: "First rescue for free; after that, it's $59.99 a month
or you have to sign up as a member of the League to keep getting it at no
cost." Then he winked, and that was most unnerving at all, since he wore
those dark goggle-like things on his eyes-which technically were really part
of his nearly indestructible and vastly malleable body-and that meant it was
a goggle lens winking, and not an eye.

"Yeah, thanks," Cigarillo said, wanting the backup team of turned heroes to
step up now but knowing things had to play out a bit more first. She saw
Heat-Sink and Serpentine in position now to distract or deal with Booster
Gold and Blue Beetle, who had accompanied Power Girl and Plastic Man and had
"rescued" Cigarillo's two teammates from the bogus attackers.

"Well, looks like we really cleaned up around here," Plastic Man said,
forming one arm into a huge vacuum cleaner and sucking up broken bits of
robots, then depositing them into a neat pile five meters away. "So, what's a
nice armored gal like you and all your friends doing hanging with trash like
this?"

Cigarillo watched the seconds tick down in the heads-up display in her
helmet, then said, as she made an elaborate show of slowly dusting the dirt
and other debris from her armor, "Oh, I don't know if I'd call those robots
trash."

"What would yoooou call them?" Plastic Man asked.

Smokeslave, Vixen, Zatanna, Black Canary, Green Arrow and Viridian all
emerged from hiding, and Cigarillo smiled wickedly behind her mask. "I'd call
them bait, rubber boy."

Smokeslave moved to support Nicotina while Vixen headed toward Heat-Sink and
Serpentine to help them. Black Canary and Green Arrow moved into a position
where they could go assist whatever comrade in Team Toxic most needed help.
The other two would back up Cigarillo and Vitriol.

Plastic Man reacted quickly enough to Cigarillo's words, backing away from
her and pulling all his extended body parts back, but Vitriol had already
been in position, and had been over-expressing his acid compounds for days,
essentially "gaining weight." Cigarillo knew he was uncomfortable as hell
crammed so densely inside his armor, and he was ready to unload. Making it
even better was the fact that Plastic Man had retracted all his parts as he
maneuvered away from Cigarillo, which meant he was going to present a much
more compact and easy target for Vitriol's wide-area attack.

Virtiol unleased a cascade of acid, both liquid and aerosolized, right over a
nine-square-meter area with Plastic Man right at the center of it. The hero
moved quickly to avoid the caustic wave, but couldn't help being splashed
with plenty of it, as his body began to pit and melt in places, leaving
puddles of red, yellow, black and beige goo as he got to a clear area.

In the end, Plastic Man was their most vexing opponent, and one that could
not be allowed to run free, Cigarillo considered. What he lacked in terms of
the raw power of Superman or Captain Marvel he more than made up for in
invulnerability.

His body was, to all conventional methods of measurement and examination,
composed of a mass of homogenous cells. Since the accident that turned him
into Plastic Man, he had possessed no organs, no brain, no circulatory system
and no skeleton. Obviously, on some level, perhaps a quantum one, there was
some kind of differentiation that allowed him to think and such, but for all
practical purposes, he was an undifferentiated, almost untouchable mass of
cells.

He couldn't be drugged. Telepathy and mind control powers couldn't touch him.
Melting him or chopping him into pieces was only a temporary measure until
all the parts flowed back together. You couldn't beat him unconscious or
truly wound him. Even freezing him was only temporary, as he would be right
back to normal when he thawed. Radiation was equally useless.

Defeating him definitively in any practical manner was well-nigh
impossible-as he couldn't be incapacitated long-term and no one who had ever
wanted to could even figure out how to kill him.

But he could be contained, and that was the order of the day today.

Vitriol's attack had distracted Plastic Man and had discorporated  parts of
his body. Meanwhile, Zatanna's magic was reducing the air immediately around
the hero to subzero temperatures to slow him down, impede his stretching
powers and prevent him from reintegrating his melted parts just yet.

Viridian flew in with a hard smoke shovel that scraped up the congealing and
slowly moving puddles of melted Plastic Man, then formed into a scoop to
snatch up the hero himself as well, and finally turned into a sphere to
contain him. Cigarillo couldn't see it herself, but she knew Hal was using
the visual illusion capabilities of the hard smoke to generate a cavalcade of
colors, images and patterns inside the sphere to confuse Plastic Man, even as
he reinforced the prison by forming a green sphere around the hard smoke one
with his power ring. 

"Double-bagged and ready to go," Viridan reported. "Transferring to
containment facility now."

Cigarillo and Vitriol moved into position to guard Viridian's escape and
provide cover fire if necessary, but everything had happened so quickly it
seemed that the other heroes weren't even aware yet of Plastic Man's
predicament.

As the hero stretched and pressed to try to overcome Viridian's spherical
prisons-Cigarillo could see the strain in the muscles of Hal's face as he
resisted those assault on his constructs-Viridian flew up and away as fast as
he could to rendezvous with Supergirl a couple miles away in the air so that
she could escort him and make sure Plastic Man remained imprisoned.

"You have the will to hold him, Viridian," Beth said in a supportive and
confident tone in a message directed straight to Hal's comm-link. "Plastic
Man isn't stronger than your determination, and willpower is the fuel you run
on. We'll see you back at base."

* * *

Though she felt a powerful wave of arousal and a tiny inkling of submission
creeping into her mind-probably from that smoke blown in her face, she
thought-Power Girl wasn't ready to give up. As her team vanquished what they
thought were robotic attackers and then as the tables suddenly turned and she
saw her missing comrades leap in to assist this T Team or whoever they were,
she shouted, "It's a trap! Get clear and reassemble in defensive stance delta
and we'll hold them off until reinforcements arrive."

Returning her attention to the woman who had blown disorienting and
intoxicating smoke at her twice, Power Girl used her heat vision to
obliterate the cigarette, and wondered why the woman would use such an
awkward and easily foiled means of attack.

Then she saw Superman approaching in a costume similar to his old one, but
colored much differently with white, brown and black-clearly on a path to
support this enemy and not to support his former Justice League teammate.

"Superman! You're stronger than this!" Power Girl shouted. "Break through
whatever control they have on you. I'm your friend!"

Meanwhile, her smoking opponent had reformed most of her mask, except for a
small hole over her mouth that could accept a cigarette filter, and she was
lighting yet another of the cigarettes, which Power Girl couldn't help but
notice matched the colors of her own costume. 

Somehow the smoke in those is keyed to influence me, but I'm still ready to
fight, she thought. But why is she even trying to relight? What kind of idiot
is she to think that I'll let her?

Another blast of heat vision and another vanquished cigarette, and Power Girl
moved in. Superman would be on her in moments, and she needed to reduce her
enemies by one, so this white-and-black costumed woman was going to be that
one. She recalled the reports from when this T Team had taken down those
villains recently, and recalled that this woman facing her now had some sort
of smoke or smoke-like energy she could form into weapons and such, which
seemed to be similar to Green Lantern's powers.

And dear lord, Power Girl worried, speaking of Green Lantern, was that Hal
Jordan in that costume, looking so much like his old Green Lantern costume
and yet not? Working to help bring down Plastic Man? Damn!

Without wasting another moment, Power Girl grabbed Nicotina with one hand and
got ready to punch her out with the other, hoping she wouldn't snap the
woman's neck but not having much time to finesse things. Suddenly, two smoky
tendrils of energy shot out, wrapped around Power Girl's shoulders, and
yanked.

Power Girl hadn't intended to keep her opponent at bay, so when Nicotina
pulled, it was easy to get Power Girl's arm to bend and bring them closer
together before she realized what was happening and began to resist. Being
closer had also momentarily disrupted the heroine's punch, since the distance
and angle were off now, and then Nicotina's entire helmet vanished, revealing
the beautiful olive-complexioned face and flowing ringlets of brown hair.

And then Nicotina blew.

Stupendously dense mists of a pale lavender hue poured out of her mouth.
There had been no cigarette, though, which confused Power Girl at first then
made her realize the earlier cigarettes had been as much a diversion as an
opening attack on her will. The purplish smoke washed over Power Girl, who
managed to stop breathing before too much got into her lungs, but still, some
did.

She felt a wave of arousal and a desire to just stop fighting, then shook it
off-mostly.

I can hold my breath a long time, woman, and in another moment you'll be
unconscious and then I just have to figure out how to beat Superman
one-on-one, Power Girl thought.

But it wasn't that easy, she suddenly realized. The smoke that had engulfed
her face wasn't just inhalatory. She felt it tingle against her skin and
settle into it like a fragrant and silky lotion. It seemed to melt into her
flesh and enter her blood, making her skin flush hot and fill her mind with
thoughts of sex, a desire to orgasm and a feeling of compliance.

Fight! Power Girl's mind screamed.

Then, suddenly, a soft and firm cocoon formed around her face and neck and
the exposed cleft of her breasts in the open circle of her costume's chest
area. Her opponent's smoky energy was now holding all that lavender
smoke-gorgeous, wonderful silky, fragrant smoke-against her skin. Allowing it
to caress her instead of dissipate. Slowly entering her pores. And the rest
floating there ready to be inhaled rather than wasted in the surrounding
atmosphere.

Power Girl realized now that she was taking little sips of the smoke into her
nose and mouth. As it caressed her skin and invaded her blood slowly, she
desired it with increasing fervor. She wanted to taste it, smell it, embrace
it.

She fought against the urge, just barely, and cocked her arm to knock out her
opponent, but then she was taken from behind-a super-powered hand grabbing
the arm with which she meant to strike Nicotina and the other of Superman's
arms snaking under the one that was holding Nicoletta and around Power Girl's
torso, just under her breasts. That second arm squeezed violently, forcing
most of the air from Power Girl's lungs.

The suddenness of it, combined with the growing lust for that sultry and
intoxicating smoke, drove her to take a small breath. 

Smoke flowed into her lungs, stroking them and whispering promises to her
nipples and cunt. It wrapped her inside and out, and she gasped, wondering
how she could have been willing to spurn this for even a minute or two. It
sinfully coated her inside and out and made her nipples hard and aching; made
her pussy flush hot and wet-a pussy that was now staining the white fabric of
her costume dark-making it sticky and shiny.

Moaning now, Power Girl drew a deep, shuddering breath.

"Yessssss," she hissed as she accepted the smoke and it flooded her mind,
filling it with lust and passion and submission. She relaxed against
Superman's chest and saw her female captor light up one of those cigarettes,
and she no longer dreaded the thought but wished the woman would do it
faster. Fill her with smoke. Bathe her in lust. Shroud her in the essence of
sex and desire.

"Very good work, Smokeslave," Nicotina said, blowing a creamy cone of
sweetness that Power Girl sucked down quickly, and in the fog of lust, she
realize the name Smokeslave must be Superman's new name.

As her pussy pulsed and juiced and her thighs quivered and Nicotina fed her
more smoke with a fierce kiss, Power Girl could only think what a wonderful
name it was for him, how nice it would be to have a similar one, and how
satisfying it must be to be a slave to this woman.

* * *

Nicoletta smoked a bit longer, watching Power Girl writhe sultrily against
Smokeslave and relishing the pained look on her male thrall's face. He was
rock-hard but would be unable to achieve satisfaction or release until
Nicoletta decided he had fully paid his penance to the Teena family. Power
Girl's ass was driving his cock to insane levels of arousal and not only was
this frustrating to him, Nicoletta noted with glee, but the guilt on his face
for being "unfaithful" to his wife in his desires was wracking him with
anguish.

Good thing for him the smoke that is driving Power Girl's passions is keyed
to her biochemistry so strongly and to female Kryptonians that he was
affected by it only from the fetish aspect and not any biochemical effect,
she thought. Otherwise he'd be useless to me right now, and unable to pay off
some of his debt to me.

This smoking fetish was something that Nicoletta intended would never let him
go; in fact, she intended to intensify it even more. A desire to breathe
women's smoke until he breathed his last. She cultivated such fetish thoughts
in all her thralls, but she intended it to utterly rule Smokeslave, not
simply enrich his sex life and reinforce attraction to her as with other
thralls.

Then she passed the half-smoked cigarette to Beth, her Cigarillo helmet now
partially open, and instructed her to finish subduing Power Girl as they
gathered up their prisoners and beat a hasty retreat. No distress signals
from the Justice League heroes had gotten out, but no doubt many calls to 911
had been made, and other heroes would be here soon enough.

Nicoletta intended to leave them a cold trail.

She took a deep breath-deeper than she normally would-resetting her pulmonary
system. Nicoletta was pleased that it had worked so well in a real battle.
Her lungs were saturated with nanos and fitted with various bionic
enhancements, not the least of which were the several reservoirs full of
drugged gases like that lavender smoke-an intensely concentrated version of
what was in the cigarette with which she had driven away the last of Power
Girl's resistance.

Nicoletta's mind was filled with thoughts of holding on to Power Girl as
Smokeslave carried them both away, and breathing more smoke into her mouth
with kisses and sucking at those massive, beautiful breasts while she
whispered tobacco-laden encouragements to Power Girl to let her fingers dip
between Nicoletta's thighs and pleasure her as they returned to their
headquarters-Power Girl's new home, as it was now home to so many other
former Justice League members.

Team Toxic-the original members and the new ones who were once called heroes,
looked at Nicoletta expectantly, even as so many non-powered bystanders
looked with dismay at a team that had clearly stolen several of their heroes
and just defeated four more.

"We need neither Booster Gold nor Blue Beetle, Team Toxic" she said loudly so
that civilian onlookers could hear her. "I have no interest in either of
them. It's time to take our leave. Let the Justice League pick up its
leftovers and let them report back to the rest of the team just how much
we've taken from them-before now and today."

* * *

Days after the battle, the doorbell rang to Toxine's apartment-a place that
looked more like a high-tech lab than a home in some places thanks to the
need to have so much stainless steel, aluminum, glass and advanced polymer
materials that could withstand Toxine's accidental excretions and emanations
of toxic and corrosive compounds. Then it rang again, and she opened the door
to see her cousin.

"What do you want, Nic?" Toxine asked wearily and irritably. "I'm not having
a good day."

"Well, I hope that a little gift from me can help ease the tensions you've
experienced, and help ease any hard feelings in our relationship," Nicoletta
said. 

"No more consolation prizes, Nicoletta. No more men who I can slowly kill
with my toxic passions."

"You'll like this," Nicoletta promised, and motioned to some unseen
employees, who wheeled in a gurney on which lay the Flash. He was in full
costume, with a large pink ribbon tied around his waist and into the shape of
a bow.

Toxine gasped. "Are you just teasing me with a peek again?"

"Would I wrap him like a gift if I were?" Nicoletta answered as the two techs
exited the apartment and went back to their regular duties. "I wasn't sure if
you wanted him in costume, civilian clothes or buck naked, so I opted for the
most colorful look."

"Thank you, Nicoletta. Thank you. I worried that..." and she stopped.

"You worried that I wouldn't make good on my promise, or that I would
accidentally damage him? I understand. You've been through a lot, and you've
had to wait a long time," Nicoletta said. "I can't promise you that he'll
last you a lifetime, but I'd give it an 80% chance than he will, and a nearly
100% chance that you'll get a couple decades out of him even if I'm wrong."

"Life doesn't give us guarantees," Toxine said, her voice sounding more
distant as she stared hungrily at the costumed and ribboned Wally West. "Why
is he unconscious?"

"I wanted to let you wake your Sleeping Beauty yourself. Better that way. We
all want him imprinted on you, and I've taken rather challenging and extreme
steps to prepare him for your more prurient needs without putting him under
my control-aside from methods to ensure he won't ever betray me or attack
me."

Nicoletta reached down, and removed some small device from behind Flash's
neck, then continued. "Toxine, now that I've removed the neural inducer, he's
going to wake up soon. The rest is up to you."

Toxine smiled and licked her lips, making them slick and shiny with some
secretion that Nicoletta suspected was a both stimulatory and aphrodisiac
substance to awaken Flash and put him in the right state of mind. She
marveled at how beautiful and human her cousin mostly seemed, as well as how
disturbingly alien she had become psychologically and cellularly. 

But we are all a mass of contradictions in this family, aren't we? Nicoletta
considered, as she lit up one of her company's Sepia brand cigarettes.

Toxine looked up at her with a pouty frown.

"Not a drugged cigarette, Justi...I mean, Toxine," she said, smiling. "He's
all yours, and I'll be leaving in a moment. Do you need anything else? Can I
get you anything?"

Toxine smiled back, licking her lips again. They seemed to become fuller and
more pouty, as well as slicker and shinier, and she took out one of the
Steampunk cigarettes that she so enjoyed, with their faux appearance of being
bronze and wood, and lit it up, blowing smoke down over Flash. Then she made
a clicking noise and something scuttled up the side of the gurney-a small
tubular creature with a long tail and eight legs. It was gray-skinned with
violet highlights and looked soft and vaguely fuzzy like velour.

"I have everything I need," Toxine said, and ripped open the bottom portion
of Wally's costume, blowing the smoke first into his still-slumber-bound face
and then another exhale across his crotch. "I have the many, many drugged
Steampunks you supply me with, I have my own chemicals, and I have Thing One
and Thing Two to assist me through the day."

Nicoletta watched as the small creature that had now reached Flash's
body-Thing One, she was pretty sure-wrapped the hero's penis it its velvety
eight-legged embrace and slid its tail easily into his rectum, gradually
pumping in whatever mind-bending compliance and arousal chemicals that Toxine
had created from her body.

As much as she was curious to see how it all played out and what Toxine and
her little creature could do, this was a personal moment, so she blew a final
plume of smoke into the air, told Toxine, "Enjoy, dear cousin," and then
backed out of the room.

Besides, I can watch it all on video later, she reminded herself.

Nicoletta's last view of the new couple was Toxine leaning over to give Flash
a gluey kiss as she exhaled aphrodisiac smoke into his mouth, and his mouth
responding sluggishly but eagerly. Just before the door shut, Nicoletta heard
him let out a stuttering gasp of surprise and pleasure, and heard Toxine say,
"Welcome home, my love."

* * *

Beth entered Nicoletta's apartment to find her watching one of the latest
news reports about how the Justice League had lost the bulk of its most
powerful members, along with commentators speculating on why that had
happened and why the nefarious perpetrators hadn't done something truly
violent or aggressive in the wake of dealing such a blow to the world's key
superhero team. Where was the attack against civilization? Where were the
demands for ransom or extortion money?

Lazy whorls of smoke stretched up in the air from the cigarette in
Nicoletta's cocked hand, and Beth decided to light up one of her own.
Nicoletta looked back as she did, smiled, and then blew a cone of thick smoke
to join her bodyguard and lover's own.

She patted one of the cushions of the sofa and said, "Join me, Beth."

The blonde woman did, settling down close to Nicoletta, and they smoked
together for a while as they watched the television.

Finally, during a commercial break, Nicoletta kissed Beth just as the woman
had finished a deep draw on her cigarette, and sucked the smoke from her
lungs, replacing it with a fresh inhale of her own and another smoky kiss.

Beth writhed a bit, and let a hand drift up to one of Nicoletta's breasts.
The brunette broke the kiss , but let her mouth stay close to Beth's own as
she said, quietly, "Not yet. Your report first."

Reluctantly, Annabeth Shields pulled away slightly, took another drag on her
cigarette, and said, "Everything is going well, Nicoletta. The Smokeslave
personality that you've so carefully cultivated is clearly dominant, so I
don't think we ever have to worry about Superman again being a foe, unless we
get one of the alternate universe ones popping up around here. Lois Lane has
been working some covert media tricks to get our corporate and social
messages out there subtly. Alexandra says that she has Billy Batson
thoroughly wrapped around her little finger and that she's turned him from a
nerd into her personal stud-boy-her words, not mine. Hal is thoroughly worked
into your life, and even I'm coming to appreciate what attracted you to him.
I don't know if you've made your final breakthrough with Wonder Woman yet..."

"Not yet, but she's close. I can feel it, and Hal has told me enough to know
that she just needs a few more light pushes to come over to my side-at least
when he's had time to report to me, since he's been warming your bed as I've
spent so much time away from the two of you with Diana and other duties."

Beth blushed a bit at that, even though she knew Nicoletta not only approved
of Hal and Beth forming their own bonds in the complex four-person
relationship Nicoletta was forming-but also knowing that her lover and
mistress had actually orchestrated several of those sexual liaisons. She
smoked fiercely to push down the flush in her cheeks and looked at Nicoletta.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Beth. Continue."

"Interrupt as much as you like, as long as you keep your wonderful smoke
coming, mistress."

"I like it when you call me that. I like it when you call me Nicoletta, too,
but I like the ring of `mistress' every once in a while, too," Nicoletta
said, blowing smoke into Beth's face. "The sooner you finish your report, the
sooner you can bury your face between my tits and my thighs, as I cover you
in perpetual smoke."

That brought another flush to Beth's cheeks as she continued. "Our other
captured heroes also seem to have assimilated well. Black Canary and Zatanna,
of course, we've had plenty of time with, and they've formed a `friends with
benefits' sexual thing that is helping to reinforce their loyalty to you
indirectly in addition to the more overt controls. Green Arrow showed signs
of resistance off-and-on for a while, but his lingering feelings for Black
Canary, who is so eagerly under your control, eventually undermined his
resistance. I have a sneaking suspicion those two will end up married again
by the time we finish our plans."

"Green Arrow and Black Canary in wedded bliss, with Zatanna sharing their bed
on a frequent basis," Nicoletta said as she blew more smoke at Beth. "I like
that image."

"Can't say it bothers me much, either," Beth said. "I've paid Oliver a couple
nighttime visits here and there, and I find myself wondering why Black Canary
ever kicked him out of her bed before. Vixen is also under firm control, but
she seems antsy. I don't think her desires are being fed and satisfied
enough. I was thinking that rather than complicating any of the existing
relationships that are already forming up, we might find her a match and
consider adding a hero to our capture list: Maybe Nightwing or..."

"No. Nightwing is off-limits. All direct, inner-circle associates of the Dark
Knight remain off the list," Nicoletta said sternly. "Robin, Batgirl, Oracle,
Batman himself-even Batwoman and Huntress, even though their connections are
somewhat more tenuous."

"I wouldn't have picked any of the women anyway," Beth said as she pulled
deeply on the rich, satisfying tobacco of her Gloriana. "Vixen doesn't seem
that receptive to lesbian encounters except with you on those rare occasions
you grace her with your presence. I thought maybe Animal Man for her, but
that just seems too contrived and obvious, given they both have animal
shape-shifting powers. I also ruled out Changeling for the same reason."

"I'll give it some thought. We'll find her a partner and help ensure that
she's satisfied. Has she taken to smoking like most of the rest?"

"No," Beth admitted as she breathed deeply of Nicoletta's slow and thick
exhalation of smoke, and felt her arousal rising inexorably-slow but ever
hotter-and wondered if the smoke was drugged, or if simply the fetish-tinged
aspects of her attraction to Nicoletta were to blame. "Like Green Arrow,
Vixen seems satisfied with simply being a second-hand recipient of smoke. So,
if the match we find her doesn't take to smoking, we may have to begin
again."

"Well, then we'll just make sure whoever we catch for her is receptive to
becoming a smoker before we match them up," Nicoletta noted. "Have a couple
members of our psych team quiz her a bit and get an idea of her tastes, so
that we can compile a short list of heroes she might like."

"I'll get on it as soon as I leave here," Beth said.

"Which won't be until morning, my dear," Nicoletta said, leaning over to blow
smoke on the woman's neck and then lick her way up to Beth's earlobe, biting
it gently and then pulling away. "I've neglected you for too long. Now finish
the report."

Stubbing out her Gloriana but hungry for more nicotine, Beth lit another and
said, "There isn't much more to report. Supergirl seems to have worked out
most of her sexual frustrations and balanced out a bit. She's still a bit on
the slutty and horny side, but not so aggressive about it. She went through a
dozen sexbots, you know, before we finally managed to build some that could
endure her rough treatment. That's tens of millions of dollars down the
drain, but in a good cause, I suppose. Power Girl has taken to your
treatments quite well herself, and...um...she and Supergirl seem to have a
thing going when Supergirl isn't fucking the sexbots."

"That bothers you?" Nicoletta asked as she lit up a fresh cigarette of her
own, blowing a plume straight into the air. The air was thick with smoke
around them, and Beth sighed heavily.

"No, it's kind of hot, I guess. And stable couples or trios are good for
ensuring things remain on track and they remain committed to being with you.
It's just that...well...Supergirl and Power Girl are kind of related. Or the
same person. Or something like that. It's just seems a little incestuous."

"But hot," Nicoletta pointed out.

"Yeah, I suppose," Beth admitted through a thick exhale, "but it's like a
pair of twins fucking. Or as close as being twins so as not to matter in
terms of distinctions. Arousing, but disturbing. I guess that's what makes it
so hot, for them...and us. Anyway," she added, taking a quick drag on her
smoke, "Toxine has Flash well in hand. She's been cellularly stable for a
while now, and her personality is more normal. `More normal' being a relative
term. She's still kind of manic and prone to mood swings, but nothing scary
or drastic. Flash seems quite...satisfied. Seems neither of them can get
enough sex-or enough smoke; directly in her case and second-hand in his,
though I suspect she'll make a smoker out of him soon enough."

"That leaves just one entity to talk about," Nicoletta prompted, then sucked
smoke deep into her lungs.

"Plastic Man? He's firmly contained," Beth said. "Frozen solid in a small
tungsten box that is, in turn, encased in a block of ice forming a six-foot
thick wall all around. That is sheeted over with an advanced polymer shell
and suspended in a whole lot of liquid nitrogen, which is encased in a
reinforced metallic-ceramic shell, which itself is surrounded by three
successive force fields, all of this in a heavily shielded facility one mile
underground in the middle of the Nevada desert. He's no worry."

"Oh, yes he is," Nicoletta countered.

"Oh, I know there's always the slim chance he can escape..." Beth admitted.

"It's not escape I'm worried about," Nicoletta said, taking an drag to center
herself and saying nothing for a moment, as Beth waited, sensing more was to
come. Finally, Nicoletta said, "The cost of keeping him contained is
tremendous, both in terms of specialized security staff, and costs of
materials and power and monitoring systems. We can't control him or turn him,
no one knows how to kill him, and so we keep him trapped. After a few months
of that, though, we will see a noticeable hit to the corporate profits.
Within a year, it will be a major hit. Within two or three years, it will
bankrupt Teena International."

"Whoa. I hadn't considered that. So, we need to figure out how to kill him."

"No," Nicoletta said.

"Figure out how to control him?" Beth queried.

"No. Either option would require us to remove him from his prison to conduct
experiments. For all his skill, Dr. Worther has no more clue than me or
anyone else how to deal with Plastic Man's unique `physiology' or lack
thereof. I suppose a suitably advanced solvent could do him in, or some sort
of highly advanced disintegration field, but killing him also has the
negative impact of sowing discord among my thralls toward me. Ensnaring wills
in my sultry and tempting embrace is easy enough to reconcile with and cause
one to modify their moral code. Murder is quite another thing, and might make
them abandon me, since murder for most them is totally anathema. However, I
do admit I would rather kill him if I could. Ultimately, we'll have to simply
release him."

"Oh," Beth said, and took a long, slow inhale on her Gloriana. "But not until
we have firm control, right? Enough of the heavy hitters so that we can fend
him off."

"Of course," Nicoletta agreed. "And the `heavy hitters' we have left would
be..."

"Doctor Fate, Martian Manhunter, Captain Atom, the Green Lantern John
Stewart, possibly Kyle Raynor-even though he isn't a Green Lantern right
now-and Firestorm," Beth answered. "Those are the most dangerous ones to us
now. Shall I make plans to take them all down successively?"

"No, leave the Justice League something," Nicoletta said. "It won't serve my
needs if I totally gut their organization. Martian Manhunter is a risk with
his rather diverse set of powers that make him almost an equal to Smokeslave,
Supergirl or Power Girl-and his telepathy might be used to inhibit my control
over my thralls. Not to mention that his investigative skills are on par with
Batman's. Even though it's inevitable that the Justice League will link
everything to Teena International soon, I'm not ready for anything to be
linked to me personally yet. So he needs to be neutralized. Firestorm as
well. His ability to manipulate matter at the atomic level could
theoretically undo all my work with the heroes I have, if he were to figure
out all that I've done to them. But let them keep Doctor Fate; I have
Zatanna, after all. Let them have at least one Green Lantern to keep the
Guardians on Oa from having a fit, so leave John Stewart alone. And Captain
Atom is a good, by-the-book military man, so he's easy enough for us to deal
with as an opponent into the future. He stays free as well."

"Well, that's my report, and now I have my task list," Beth said, leaning
back into the sofa.

Nicoletta grinned wickedly. "You have another set of tasks first, that will
take all afternoon and much of the night. So sit up, bend forward and start
them, while it's me who leans back and relaxes."

Beth took one last drag, stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray, and bent
forward into a prodigious cloud of her mistress' smoke to lift Nicoletta's
dress and reveal the naked pussy on which she would slake her sexual hunger
even as she fed Nicoletta's passions.

* * *

"Looks like we're on the same side," Golden Eagle said, absently flapping his
mechanical wings back and forth a little as he spoke, "which is why we wanted
to meet with you, even though trying to figure out how to get a message to
you wasn't easy."

Brutish-looking, super-strong Iron Cross nodded at that. For her part
Heatmonger interlaced the fingers of her cybernetic arms and smiled at those
words. Backlash said nothing, his whiplike arms simply twitching and writhing
a little when he wasn't sneaking peeks at Nicoletta and Beth's cleavage-and
even more so when he was.

Nicoletta looked at the four members of the Aryan Brigade-a super-powered
enforcer group that worked with the violent white supremacist groups that
comprised the overall Aryan Nation movement. It was a group that had come to
blows with the Justice League on several occasions. 

"Why would you think that our needs are aligned?" Nicoletta remarked blandly,
puffing casually on a drugged-laced Gloriana, knowing that the smoke in the
air would keep the four at relative ease even if it wasn't enough to enthrall
them.

Golden Eagle seemed taken aback by that question, so Heatmonger leaned
forward and took up the conversation instead. "The enemy of our enemy is our
friend. We're labeled as villains despite defending a noble cause and you're
probably mislabeled as well, since we haven't heard of any crimes committed
by Team Toxic. Oh, and that's a nice viral campaign you have going on in the
social media networks, by the way."

"Well, nobility is in the eye of the beholder, of course," Nicoletta said.
"Not everyone approves of the way you feel toward, nor the way you deal with,
the coloreds and Jews who are in America."

"But you see, there you go," Heatmonger said. "You haven't judged us on that,
and you've pared down the ranks of the Justice League. You understand the
threat posed by nig..."

"No, I don't," Nicoletta said, cutting her off. "Saying the word `coloreds'
was a way to get a reaction from you and remind myself why your little group
is so odious. Saying that word was only slightly more easy to do than saying
`niggers and wetbacks,' you bigoted bitch. Thirty of my best R&D people and
two of my best vice presidents are Black, Asian or Latino, and one of my
aunts is Jewish. So fuck you and your twisted politics, much less overtures
of some kind of alliance with us."

Both sides stood as one, and Nicoletta tossed her cigarette to the ground,
but the battle was over shortly after it started. Even without the converted
heroes present, the Aryan Brigade didn't stand a chance. Heat-Sink absorbed
every bit of thermal energy that Heatmonger generated from her cybernetic
arms, and Serpentine's wrist-launched coils and Nicotine's hard smoke
constructs tied up Backlash's elongating, lashing arms. Cigarillo's
armor-enhanced strength was enough to fend off Iron Cross until Vitriol had
melted Golden Eagles wings and slapped him unconscious, and then together the
two overcame Iron Cross with sheer brute force. Heat-Sink created a highly
localized atmospheric effect that created enough heat and deprived Heatmonger
of enough air that she passed out, and a hard-smoke sheath generated by
Nicotina around Backlash's face had much the same effect on him.

When the villains had been properly secured, Nicotina contacted the
authorities and left both the police and the public very confused as media
reports noted that Team Toxic-the "villains" that had taken down so many
Justice League heroes-had just sent four dangerous villains to jail.

* * *

As Supergirl exited her room, Power Girl was standing just outside the door.

"You didn't break another sex-bot, did you, baby?" Power Girl asked.

"No. In fact, I haven't used one today. I'm craving skin on skin," Supergirl
responded, running a hand down one of her latex-covered hips with a soft
squeaking sound and lighting up one of Nicoletta's ultra-dense cigarettes
with her heat vision, taking a deep, cheek-hollowing drag, and then letting
one finger twirl in Power Girl's short blonde locks. "So how fortunate that
you stopped by. I see you're in costume, too. I guess you find pretending
that you're `normal' as silly as I find it these days."

Power Girl pulled out one of her own super-dense cigarettes, lit it off the
end of Supergirl's and blew smoke toward her counterpart's mouth as she put
one hand to Supergirl's lower back and pulled her close for a slow, sloppy
kiss.

When they disengaged, the two drew smoke in unison, and bathed each other's
face in their respective exhales.

"So, are we just going to make out in the hall, or go inside your place?"
Power Girl asked as smoke swirled and wreathed their faces. "I'm not all that
keen on giving passers-by in the corridor a free sex show-at least not
today."

Supergirl smiled wickedly, put her cigarette in her mouth and smoked it
hands-free as she scooped Power Girl up in her arms, took flight and rocketed
down the hall. In seconds, they were in Power Girl's apartment instead.

"My sheets are dirty enough from that last kinky encounter you orchestrated,
hon," Supergirl said. "Time to ruin your linens instead."

As Power Girl ran a finger across one of Supergirl's nipples, eliciting a
pleasant gasp, Supergirl's mouth shot forward to give her near-double a quick
kiss, then she wove the fingers of one hand in Power Girl's short hair, took
a deep hit of smoke, and shared it with the other. Power Girl's fingers
wrapped into Supergirl's longer locks.

As their tongues lashed and they gripped each other's blonde hair, Power Girl
muttered, "By the time we're done, that costume of yours will be shreds."

When they finally paused in their brief and fierce make-out session,
Supergirl winked. "Nicoletta will supply me with more. You know, you'd look
great in latex, too. Why not ask for an upgrade to your costume?"

"I don't like the feel of latex," Power Girl said as she blew smoke on the
glossy sheath temporarily separating her from Supergirl's breasts. "Unless
it's on someone else's body," she added, running a hand across the slick
material over Supergirl's ass and squeezing one butt cheek hard.

"Well, good thing for you, then, that you can get to at least some of my
goodies without even having to rip the latex off me," Supergirl said as Power
Girl blew more smoke on her, "since I had a crotch slit added to the latest
versions. I guess nipple slits will be next on my request list, along with an
ass crack slit."

"A crotch slit? Really, now," Power Girl mock-chided the other woman, as her
finger dipped through that slit and into Supergirl's slippery, dripping and
velvety cunt, "that's going to be so awkward in battle one day, when you take
a wide stance with your legs and some villain gets a good long look at your
swollen pink pubes with thick girlcum dripping from them."

Supergirl leaned hard into Power Girl's slowly pistoning fingers, blew smoke
onto her lips, and said, "I prefer to think of it as a strategic distraction
technique rather than an embarrassment, as well as being a cheap thrill for
me."

Then their lips locked again, and talking ceased for more important affairs.


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