The Kidnapped Hero and Brainwashing Interrogation (Club - Unresisting Sex) (3)
"Finally here. I was waiting so long I thought my neck would snap."
Villain No. 13 teased Club as she stepped inside.
The place he'd been waiting in was styled like a pub or bar. There was a counter table just like you'd see in a real bar, and beyond it, shelves lined with rows of mysterious liquor bottles.
Incidentally, alcohol and cocktails were one of No. 13's hobbies. They were also the main reason he'd racked up so much debt to the Advisor...
"No... 13...!"
Club muttered resentfully.
She was stark naked right now. The thought of showing her bare body to that villainous bastard filled her with rage and humiliation on every level. But she couldn't even cover herself without permission—not the slightest motion. So Club simply stood there at the doorway, her modest breasts and unavoidably exposed pussy on full display.
No. 13 gave her a puzzled look.
"Huh? Why are you just standing there like that? And why are you naked? ...Oh."
As he spoke, realization dawned on him late, and he suddenly covered his mouth, chuckling.
"Ahh, I see. So that's the vibe."
"...What the hell are you doing by yourself? Should I get mad? Should I?"
"You already look pissed off enough. Anyway, you're free to move now. Oh, but don't leave the room."
And only then did Club feel the invisible shackles around her body snap open. Finally able to move of her own will, she leaped back and plastered herself against the door. Hunched over, arms covering her pussy and breasts, she glared at No. 13 with a snarling expression.
"I'll kill you all...!"
"Sorry, but no can do. You don't even have a weapon, right?"
"......"
"And stop wasting your energy pointlessly. Haven't you figured it out yet? You can't do a damn thing on your own right now. Even this movement is only possible because I allowed it. Without permission, your limbs freeze up like they're paralyzed. Oh, and by the way, your abilities are sealed so you can't use them, and you're blocked from harming me or anyone in our organization."
—So, what'll you do?
No. 13 poured liquor into the glass in front of him and spoke to Club as if it were no big deal.
Club glared at him for a long while. She even sneaked a hand back to try opening the door behind her, but the memory of his earlier order made her hand drop from the knob against her will. Even if she'd turned it and opened the door, she knew she wouldn't have been able to step outside. She just knew it—had no choice but to know.
In the end, Club resigned herself to the fact that further resistance was pointless. But with eyes that refused to give up, she approached him as he beckoned, still glaring.
* * *
She sat in the chair No. 13 indicated—across the table from him.
Though she'd been naked just moments ago, Club was now draped in a blanket No. 13 had pulled from behind the counter.
"I never told them to bring you here naked. Guess the Advisor was just being petty. Can't blame her after the way you roughed her up, right?"
"......Hmph."
A glass filled with amber liquor was slid toward Club. Ice inside clinked lightly.
She just stared at it, refusing to touch it to her lips. As if I'd drink something from a villain.
No. 13 didn't force her. He simply tilted his own glass and drank.
"Got anything you wanna ask? I've got stuff I want to say, but if you've got questions, fire away first."
Questions. Things she wanted to know.
Club thought of them instantly and shot one right at him.
"What happened to Senior Spade and Apple?"
"Whoa, worrying about your comrades first? Heroic, but coming from a not-so-heroic hero like you, it's kinda funny."
"Shut up. You're the one who said to ask."
Club was seriously annoyed. No. 13 answered her question leisurely, without pointing out her attitude.
"They're both fine. Made it back safe to the 7th Squad base."
"...I see."
Club's face softened with slight relief. But her eyes quickly turned cold and piercing as they fixed on No. 13.
"...Spade was under your control. She seemed to break free on her own back then, but..."
"Yeah. Just a temporary glitch that time. She's fine now—back to being my obedient cock slave like always. Good thing, right?"
"Good thing? What the—!"
Club gripped the blanket tighter, fury twisting her features. If she'd had a weapon—if not for the brainwashing constraints—she'd have lunged at his face right then, her expression was that vicious.
"Oh, and Apple's my slave too, by the way. So everyone and everything set up for you back then was against you. ...Of course, Spade going berserk was unexpected."
When her comrade was in danger, she'd shaken off the brainwashing like some kind of awakening. Even if temporary, it was impressive. And the hypnosis that held firm even while she was toyed with, deflowered, and violated by a villain—it broke in that moment of peril for a friend. Terrifying camaraderie. What a pain in the ass.
Club's questions continued for a while after that. About the brainwashing, her current situation, and so on.
He was a little impressed. After all, she was kidnapped, smack in the heart of the enemy base—a villain organization's lair. Naked and utterly defenseless. Yet instead of panicking, she stayed calm, rationally probing the situation with level-headed questions. No hysterical outbursts. This wasn't just the brainwashing suppressing her; it was Club's own competence and judgment at work.
A young, capable hero indeed. Her personality had its issues, but she was clearly one who earned praise like "the future looks bright."
Her inexperience showed, though. If she hadn't been so obsessed with results and stubborn about it this time—if she'd taken Spade's advice to flee instead of trying to capture No. 13—she might not have been kidnapped.
But that would come with time and experience. He looked forward to seeing what kind of hero the fully matured Club—experience filling her gaps, personality flaws smoothed out—would become.
Unfortunately, Hero Club had been captured by a villain. A single youthful mistake had led to this. It was a shame to crush such a promising future like a flower underfoot, but life and the world didn't always go smoothly.
"Alright. Think that's enough questions. I've answered plenty, and you get the gist of your situation, right?"
"Ugh...! Wait... just a bit more..."
"That's it. I didn't have to answer any in the first place. Just a whim."
No. 13 pushed aside his empty glass and gazed at Club with his usual relaxed smile. But his eyes now held a serious glint, unlike before.
Club tensed unconsciously, straightening her back.
"Good. Now, Club—let me explain why I called you here today."
"Club, you—ever thought about quitting as a hero and becoming a villain?"
"More precisely, how about joining our villain organization, the Abyss?"
Club's eyes widened at No. 13's proposal.
* * *
Join the villain organization Abyss.
That's what No. 13 asked her.
Absurd. Ridiculous.
But...
"Think about it, Club. You're kidnapped here anyway. Whether you like it or not, you'll be under our control, manipulated by us."
"In that case, wouldn't it be better to do it of your own will? Join our side willingly, get treated decently—way better than being forced, right?"
"Of course, we'll put some brainwashing constraints in place just in case, but otherwise, I'll treat you like a comrade. Housing, food, pay, benefits—you name it."
Either way, Club was destined to work for the Abyss. She had no more freedom, and she'd felt firsthand what it meant to be controlled by him. She'd seen Spade's case with her own eyes.
If she was going to be used regardless, better on her terms than forced. And if she got lucky, she might even find a way to break free from the brainwashing... from his control.
Club knew that much. But holding off her answer, she glared at No. 13 and asked,
"...Why offer me that? Just control me outright."
"Willing and forced are different. Take Spade this time—she was made to do something she hated, and boom, she glitches out at a crucial moment. Disaster. So better to make her think villain life ain't so bad, gradually turn it into her own will instead of brainwashing... Something like that. Kinda."
"For that reason, a hero like me?"
"We need people that bad. Your crew nearly wiped out our organization. Short-staffed as hell. So yeah, borrowing some hero hands."
Not a mindless meat puppet obeying orders. But a comrade who could act and think on her own, sharing the same goals.
That's how No. 13 explained it.
"No need to answer right now. Thinking of giving you a month's grace period."
"Live as a provisional member in the meantime. Learn what being a villain really means, what kind of group we are."
"We're not villains just 'cause we wanna be outlaws. We've got reasons, goals. And I think you'd get it."
"To me, the line between hero and villain is just a tiny difference in thinking."
No. 13 laid it out like that. No pressure, he said—just check it out and say no later if you want. A considerate offer.
Club had little reason to refuse anyway. Even if she planned to reject it, accepting now would boost her chances of escaping later.
"Oh, and I didn't mention this earlier."
"Honestly, Club—I think you've got real talent as a villain."
"How about it? Living as a hero... ever feel frustrated? Satisfied with life as is?"
No. 13 drove the nail in, and Club clamped her mouth shut.
Right on cue, the ice in the glass before her—swirling with liquor—clinked softly.