Kidnapped Hero and Brainwashing Interrogation (2)
'...Ra...?'
'Me...?'
A foggy mind, like shrouded in mist. Club dimly began to regain consciousness. Her body and head felt light and floaty. It feels good, she thought. But it was a little hot. A touch of stuffiness too. She couldn't quite grasp her current situation.
Just as she resigned to drifting back to sleep with that thought—
A voice jolted her awake, forcibly hauling her awareness to the surface.
"Wake up. Hero Club, wake up."
The voice was soft, laced with mischief. Yet strangely, it came bundled with the ironclad notion that she must not disobey... and Club's leaden eyelids cracked open.
"Ah, finally awake? You kept me waiting forever."
Under the blinding fluorescent lights, a face filled her vision. Neatly trimmed silver hair and peach-hued eyes—an striking beauty. No one Club knew. And yet, a peculiar sense of familiarity prickled at her.
"Wh...o...?"
"Oh dear. Forgot me already? Wait, back then I didn't look like this, huh. Hehe, after you beat the crap out of me, you don't even recognize me? It's infuriating on every level. Infuriating. Yeah, I'm pissed."
The silver-haired woman muttered to herself, then reached out and pinched Club's defenseless nipple hard, twisting it viciously.
Just that alone twisted Club's face, a pathetic sigh leaking from her lips.
"What the... hell...?"
"Venting my anger. We're villain and hero, aren't we? So this is fair game, right? What do you think?"
Ugh. Her head was still sluggish from just waking up, but the woman kept rattling off words like a machine gun.
Club irritably tried to reach for her, but no strength flowed into her arm. She couldn't even remember how to flex her muscles properly.
...From sleeping too long, maybe?
"Club, guess who I am. Wanna try?"
"...Dunno... I'm... someone like you...?"
"Come on. Guess. I'll give you a reward if you're right."
Even so, no dice.
She truly couldn't remember.
Club stared blankly at those eyes gazing down at her, at that face.
Then it hit—the faint familiarity from moments ago washed over her again.
This speech pattern... this attitude... somehow...
"Advi...sor...?"
The words slipped out unbidden, without conviction.
But the woman's face lit up like she'd won the lottery, blooming into radiant joy.
"Correct! Thanks for guessing! Here's your reward!"
With that, the silver-haired Advisor seized both of Club's exposed nipples and pinched and twisted them in tandem.
Club clenched her teeth, grimacing in protest, but the Advisor's hands didn't relent. She kept kneading them, rubbing them erect with slick strokes, then pinching or twisting to torment her relentlessly.
(Had Club guessed wrong or failed to recognize her, the same "punishment" would've followed anyway.)
"St-stop...!"
"If you hate it, resist. Would a villain listen to a begging hero? Did you listen when I, a villain, begged?"
The Advisor smiled, but her voice brimmed with a chilling grudge and fury.
Club desperately tried to bat the hands away. But her body refused to obey. Not bound by anything, yet it felt like sodden cotton—heavy, immovable.
Why... why won't my body move?
Why can't I fight back at all?
And why were her nipples this sensitive? A mere touch sent jolts and shivers surging through her...
"Ah, ahh...."
Club sighed in denial, blinking hard. But the hands pressed on. Fingers gliding over her sensitive buds felt good. Shivery bliss.
Just as she teetered toward indulgence, the Advisor caught on and twisted hard—mixing sharp pain with the pleasure, yanking her consciousness back from the edge.
"Aah, stop... stop it...!"
Club was powerless. All she could do was plead.
The Advisor's hands strayed beyond the nipples to Club's modest, endearing little breasts—barely worthy of the name, but stroking and kneading them anyway...
Pleasure crashed over her all the same.
Why am I so sensitive... my breasts... my nipples...?
A faint dampness glistened between Club's thighs. The spot No. 13 had deflowered was heating up.
At last, the Advisor released her chest.
Dominated by shameful pleasure, Club's face burned red, strange sighs escaping her lips.
"Getting turned on like a hero should? Pervert."
The Advisor sneered in a cold, mocking tone—pure condescension, no honorifics.
Club burned with rage, but she was helpless. Hell, the whole situation made no sense.
Woke up to a strange beauty—who turned out to be the male Advisor she'd nearly killed.
Easier to chalk it up to a dream than accept this as reality.
"Anyway, now you're up, shall we move? I could've kept tormenting you."
"But No. 13 is waiting. Can't keep him any longer."
The Advisor looked down and commanded, "Get up."
Strength flooded Club's limp body on cue. She propped herself on her arms, rose from the surgical table, and dismounted.
Only then could she take in her surroundings: machines, glowing displays, cylinders of reagents—a lab, clearly.
"Follow me."
At the next command, Club trailed behind—stark naked, not a stitch on.
As she followed the Advisor, Club gradually pieced together her last memories.
The Abyss terrorist attack at the department store by Villain No. 13.
She and senior Spade had stormed in to stop it. Twists and turns later, she'd fallen under No. 13's control and lost.
Remembering not just the control, but surrendering her virginity in her first sex with him—Club's face flushed.
Not from shame, but fury.
A hero like her had no lingering regrets over her virginity.
"Advisor... you were a guy, right? You look totally different. This a joke?"
"Oh? But didn't you recognize me as the Advisor?"
"...Somehow... it just felt right."
Club couldn't explain why herself.
"We're Awakeners. Anything can happen, right? Open mind—ever heard of it?"
"...So, are you a guy or a girl in the end? Which is it?"
"No obligation to tell."
The Advisor chuckled. Seeing Club's face sour, she giggled harder and elaborated.
"Fine. No duty, but if I must explain: not male. The male body was just a convenient shell."
"......So ultimately."
"Yes. No lusting after your scrawny, pathetic figure. Rest easy."
"...!!"
Club's face burned red. She ground her teeth in anger—but made no move to attack.
Not her style to lash out violently... no, that wasn't it.
She simply couldn't act without the Advisor's command.
Probably...
She'd seen Spade under No. 13's control back at the store.
Hypnosis? Drugs? Tech or tools? Details unknown.
But one thing was clear: her body and mind were no longer her own.
Infuriating.
"We're here."
They traversed the absurdly spacious building and arrived at a door.
A light knock brought a familiar voice: "Come in."
The Advisor opened it, stayed outside, and beckoned Club with a gesture. "Enter."
As before, Club's body complied without resistance, stepping through the door...