Chapter 2
Inside one of Gotham's swankiest nightclubs, it was a quieter night than usual, a little dimmer than before as well, with merely candle light brightening each table for the fairly-elite crowd. Most in attendance that night were frequent members of the club who enjoyed rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful amongst them. It was an unwritten rule that there were only a few spots open for guests for the smaller club; with a striking charm and confidence in her appearance and approach, Melissa Silk was one of those people.
The beautiful woman in a dark velvet dress sat alone, the candle light at her table shone a classically-beautiful face shaped by long, auburn hair, who sat at the table, only occasionally glancing around the room, waiting for the show to start. Getting a table by herself seemed less annoying than sitting at the club's bar, being hit on by every single man there, and getting leering glances from the ones with girlfriends and wives present. Though looking unbothered, Melissa found herself bored, constantly staring at her watch before the brightest light in the club, a spot light, cast a light on a handsome figure greeting the audience with a smile. His clothing straddled the border between Victorian and modern in the suit he wore, complete with a top hat fitting a performer such as him.
"Greetings one and all," he regarded his audience, the smooth sound of his voice catching a few ladies off-guard, even Melissa who didn't show it outwardly. "Welcome to my show of magic, mentalism, and mesmerism. Tonight, you will learn how the simplest of things can create the most elaborate of impressions. Sometimes from what you don't expect..." As if on cue, the candles at every table dimmed until they were nearly mere embers along the wicks. Each flame came back to life as quickly as they almost died out, prompting the performer to speak again.
"And sometimes, from exactly what you'd expect..." Melissa and everyone else's eyes drew away from the center of the table, and back to the stage to see a gold pocket watch shining from the stage light in full-view of the crowd.
"Now I know there are some out there who are already chuckling to themselves, or directly to me as I show you my special tool here. 'How trite, how cliche, how uninspired'...how often I've heard those claims from even the most impressive of skeptics. Well, I will let you all in on two little secrets - first, no one's skepticism last very long at my show, as I may soon demonstrate from among this lovely crowd. And second, whomever values your skepticism, you're secret is safe with me."
The stage hypnotist looked amongst the crowd with a calm but hawkish gaze, picking out potential volunteers and noting individual reactions. He kept his annoyance hidden of the one brunette sitting alone that seemed just as interested in her wrist watch as she was in the show.
"Because tonight, I will point to the crowd and choose a volunteer to come to the stage - you will. Tonight I will only allow the willing to appear on-stage tonight because I believe in the willing, even if they don't believe in me...yet." Light chuckling from the crowd stayed light as he opened his pocket watch.
"The mechanics of the willing are seemingly no different from how this pocket watch works, the tick of every second being the tick of a noted act of forward motion to who you are, and who you will be, even if you don't know it yet. Every tick highlights a compulsion in you, so very strong, a natural addiction that drives every action when you are not thinking about it, and incredibly hard to stop yourself when you are. In modern times, it can be as addictive as checking your phone or checking the time every few other minute."
Melissa didn't necessarily feel called out as she listened to the stage performer; it was hard to know how to feel as the ticking became as prominent as the hypnotist's voice, as if the ticking was calling out specifically to her.
"Such a compulsion oddly enough defies time itself, as you can stare at the same minute on your time-keeping device, and watch it remain stationary as an infinite number of ticks make up that single minute. That compulsion redefines the minute. That compulsion redefines the person paying such rapt attention. They cannot help but watch. They cannot help but listen..."
Blue eyes that found shifting between the stage and Melissa's wristwatch so easily now found themselves stuck on an LED figure of the time. There was much more on the digital watch face to pay attention to, but she couldn't look away from the listed time. Seeing the same minute remain despite hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of seconds passing by, it became so easy to believe the words that told her how time works, how compulsion works, how she works, as she could still pay attention to that stretched moment in time while the rest of her acted on more words.
Melissa's meticulous mind came back to her eventually, the minute finally having changed, with a loss of about 20 minutes when her mind was finally back to normal again. Gently shaking her own head, she realized she was on-stage, staring at the crowd who was clapping at her presence, or a performance lost to time. She a pleasant lethargy in her muscles and an even more pleasant sense of performing some actions recently leading her to believe she enjoyed doing it, or just enjoyed doing as she was told. More mindful and suddenly self-conscious about what was lost to her, she was about to reactively panic when a gloved hand rested itself on her shoulder, and her head quickly whipped around to see his face, reassurance flowing from his expression to her softening one. A gentle squeeze to her shoulder almost made her legs bend, certainly making her mind bend with an appreciative grin as she let her hand be held standing next to him.
"A round of applause for our wonderful time enthusiast here, and thank you all for coming tonight. Both He and Melissa bowed, and she could hear his pocket watch open, echoing in a wave through the club, that barely interrupted the clapping amongst what sounded like words connecting clapping to forgetfulness; Melissa didn't think too hard about it, content with just the sound of his voice and being led backstage.
"It's been a wonderful experience meeting you, Ms. Silk. I hope to see you at future shows," the hypnotist greeted cordially with a simple bow of his head and tip of his hat, before leaving her. As he walked in one direction, she moved towards the nearest bathroom for privacy, pushing a button to communicate with her wrist watch.
"Yes. Yes, it's a negative. This lead I don't believe pans out. Reports suggest looking into a Dr. Hugo Strange next, he's now the most-likely candidate. Affirmative." Melissa ended the call, exiting the bathroom to look for the building's back exit. Decisively, she opened the door most likely what she was looking for, and found a room with the hypnotist waiting for her inside, twirling what looked like a brown-haired wig around his finger.
"Nice to see you again so soon, Ms. Silk. Or should I call you, Agent Romanov? Forgive the belated introduction, but I am Jervis Tetch."
Eyes narrowed and her stance quickly turned defensive, waiting for his next move. Simply glancing at the full-length mirror close to the door, she turned to see herself velvet dress gone, only wearing black bra and panties, her fiery straight red hair hanging freely.
"But I guess we should go by official titles here, Black Widow. Those with an equal, though occasionally-misguided amount of flourish know me as the Mad Hatter."
"I think I'd rather know you as under arrest, Mr. Hatter."
"I don't think your superiors would agree, especially as you only recently confirmed their suspicions about me were a bit dubious. I appreciate the vote of confidence, by the way," He smiled, still toying with her Melissa-wig like a trophy.
"I'll amend that report as soon as I'm done amending your attitude and smug face," she claimed before making a fast dash at the man across the room. He calmly let the wig dropped as he opened the same hand to reveal the pocket watch ticking. The sound hit senses all at once, almost completely stopping Black Widow in her tracks. She desperately tried to move forward, but her reflexes felt as stuck-in-quicksand as her mind, finding odd pleasure in standing still to slow the sinking she couldn't stop.
"Melissa Silk, fitting persona for a Black Widow I must say. But to be very honest, you remind me more of a hare for some reason, or specifically the hare from the tortoise and the hare fable. Are you familiar?"
The redheaded spy could only stand, haplessly settling into an unmoving disposition, even afraid to speak as to hasten the rate of sinking.
"Speak now, Miss Widow," He added firmness to his direct command.
"Yes, I know it," she forced out.
"Then you are keenly aware of the ending as well as the morals, just because something moves faster doesn't mean their destined to win the race, especially not when it's a race against time..." Hatter walked up to the woman, and put the ticking watch close to her face, letting each weaken and soften her body's need to move, and making her stand upright to derive the most pleasure from.
"But even a story can be rewritten for a happier ending, it's characters easily, and blissfully repurposed. Would you believe in my version, the tortoise actually taught the hare how to win?"
What little of conscious pride remained in Black Widow felt a blow amongst the impending doom of maybe the strongest hypnotic brainwashing she'd ever experienced. The pain from the blow faded in the quicksand as Mad Hatter's words latched onto her pride, giving her a graceful, generous way to somehow achieve a victory.
"I think you want to believe in it, because in a beautiful turn of events, the wise creature who only felt the need to walk taught the speedy, unthinking hare that all you need to do is walk, walk together, walk with me towards victory."
From the backstage dressing room, Hatter and his scantily-clad redhead exited out the back of the building to an alleyway, with a black car waiting for them.
"Every step to victory is like every tick of time taking you deeper. It's the compulsion I spoke of earlier. It's the reason you move at all, your inspiration for acting, just like my words, stuck to you like a spider's unbreakable silk. And although you are walking at a slow pace, you can feel your heartbeat start to increase every so little with each tick."
The hypnotist heartily enjoyed staring at Black Widow's chest, watching her impressive natural bust take more pronounced breaths from a heart rate moving faster than the walking hare.
"Can you feel that in your passionate heart? It's the anticipation of victory. It's the same beating heart only a powerful, irresistible arousal can make you feel. It doesn't make you walk faster towards the finish line, it only makes you enjoy how long it takes to get there."
The car eventually pulled into the back of another club, and Mad Hatter and Black Widow walked in, the naked soles of her feet shooting arousal up into her body, as suggestions poured from her brain into her torso.
"And before you know it..." He opened the door for the hypnotized spy to his owner's office, letting Black Widow into it. "You have crossed the finish line. You have emerged victorious. Congratulations, Black Widow," he told her, caressing her flesh that caused a gentle shiver, convinced she was being touched by a special lover to light a fire in her like no one else could.
Less than a minute after Mad Hatter's arrival, the resident magician and madame over the Cottontail Colloquium entered, immediately bowing in respect of her other owner.
"Good evening, Master of Fables," she greeted in a somewhat ditzy tone."
"Good evening, Magi of Mindlessness. I trust things are running smoothly here?"
"Yeah, and like really sexy too," she giggled. "All the girls really like working here. They say it's like magical here."
"Hmmm, I wonder why," Hatter laughed to himself.
"I hope your night went good. And I see you brought another sexy thing to play with," Zatanna laughed as her gaze turned predatory, and her tone slid into domineering naturally.
"Indeed I have, a spider of a spy. A Black Widow, in-fact. But I think she'd rather be something else after my tortoise and hare re-telling," he grinned at Zatanna who grinned back evilly. "And before this new toy is ready to leave the assembly line, please do that voodoo that you do," Hatter said, patting her ass as she raised her hands.
"etirt sgnieb dluohs maerd***
fo a suordnow, yppah dnal
suoutlumut seirrow dna serac
gnippils ekil slufdnah fo dnas"
Mad Hatter grew almost instantly hard again, as was the routine every time the former-heroine used her backwards magic to utter his fantasy prose to do his bidding. Turning her talents to his cause like that was a chance he never though he'd get when he and Ringmaster took down the difficult woman.
"It's time for your victory dance, Black Widow. Let that building heat inside you erupt into sensuality, into the only power you truly possess and need - titillation," Hatter told her as she began shaking her hips, squeezing her breasts through the bra before finally removing it, moaning at how good it felt to let go, loving how sensitive her breasts and nipples were becoming as magic reworked their make-up.
t'ndlouw uoy rehtar eb a yunnb?
thguac ni a yklis lacigam bew?
esoohc ot ton eb na thgie deggel noisluver
ot tel noitatuper dna ecnatsiser bbe.
She ran a hand through her hair, feeling bunny ears appear as if from nowhere, toying with the black set of ears the way a bored teenager would play with long strands of hair. With Mad Hatter in her sights, she played hard to get with showing off her breasts, instead teasing the black cottontail that appeared at her backside.
"tel ruoy renni ynnub egreme
a ylevol aedi sa ruoy ylno thguoht
ydob, sevruc, dna a tsub ot eid rof
ylsselerac tneidebo ot ruoy yrev eroc
gnilggig dna suousnes, ruoy tsap lla rof thguan"
Laughter sprung from her lips mid-dance, and for the life of her, she could tell nor care why. Happy was happy, and being a bunny and dancing made Black Widow nothing but happy.
"As fitting as Black Widow moniker must've been for your hero exploits, I think a different name is better for your bunny life. Do you have a real name?"
"Uhh...like..Natasha...Ro-ro-roman..." the pronunciation of her Roman name made the redhead cock her head to the side, wondering where the information went, easily crossing the edge of not caring.
"Bunny-Natasha fits you so much better now, as perfect a fit as that cute cottontail."
She agreed moaningly, patting her own ass, loving the bright-red puff that felt as cottony as her mind.
"And how do you feel now, my convinced little coney?" He asked, getting into the redhead's personal space who treated him like a dancing pole.
"I...I..feel..feel like so...really good..." She was momentarily surprised by the ditzy tone leaving her own lips, but the new speech pattern just added to her happiness as she continued.
"Oh wow, I just wanna dance like..like all night for you..on you Hatter."
"If you like doing things for me, you can also start referring to me as your Master of Fables."
"Sure, Master of Fables, like whatever you say," bunny-Natasha said before planting a long kiss on his lips. He kissed back eagerly, before pulling away to kiss Zatanna with equal fervor.
"Thank you for the special addition to the line-up, Magi, and for relaying that message when you got it."
"My pleasure, Master of Fables, I...like love serving you.." the ditzy, submissive side of the magician returned, and began to dance with the new bunny as Hatter approached his desk, seeing the message left for him by his partner.
"Just FYI, there might be an agent from my neck of the woods snooping around, probably a redheaded spy/assassin called Black Widow. She might even attend your show soon. Be advised. -Fritz"
The agreement between Mad Hatter and Ringmaster, aka Fritz Tiboldt, seemed to be paying off in dividends, with shared partnership and fresh toys each have previously tussled with in the past. Growing aroused himself from the two sexually enjoying one another, Hatter noticed something.
"Aren't you supposed to be a bunny too, Magi?"
As bunny-Natasha kissed a line down to her breasts, Zatanna uttered "ynnub!" and her appearance immediately matched with white bunny ears and cottontail, similar to the rabbits she always used for her magic shows.
"Much better, bunny-Zatanna," the Alice in Wonderland-loving villain praised.
***Zatanna's Rhyme
Trite beings should dream
of a wondrous, happy land
Tumultuous worries and cares
slipping like handfuls of sand
"Wouldn't you rather be a bunny?
Caught in a silky, magical web?
Choose to not be an eight legged revulsion,
to let reputation and resistance ebb."
Let your inner-bunny emerge
A lovely idea as your only thought
Body, curves and a bust to die for,
Carelessly obedient to your very core,
Giggling and sensuous, your past all for naught.