Underfoot ((UnHolyPimpHand & zydrate))

[UnHolyPimpHand]

The simultaneous explosions of a dozen or so smoke bombs broke the silence in Ameri-Savings and Loan Bank in downtown Manhattan. Some disembodied screams rang out from among the bystanders as they tried to make sense of the sudden grey blindness which overtook them all at once. The shattering of the windows coincided with the shattering of fluorescent bulbs overhead, furthering the task that the hissing smoke bombs began, of robbing the patrons of their sight while the Foot robbed the vaults.

The foot-soldiers of the Foot Clan moved soundlessly through the broken windows, just a hiss of fabric and curls in the blanket of smoke betrayed their presence. The martial-trained soldiers slipped seamlessly through the crowd and around the flimsy security measures that remained after the guards were rendered blind.

Ninja train to be just as lethal even without sight, but the Foot Clan soldiers were outfitted with thermal imaging goggles within their masks for this operation, allowing them to see while everyone else was blinded by the smoke. The Foot Clan soldiers all sprinted for the vault, where they began burning through the locks with thermite charges.

Shredder himself strode confidently through the front door of the bank, making short work of the security guard who was foolish enough to try and aim his gun. Shredder’s long blades at the back of his right hand severed the guard’s arm below the wrist, wrenching an anguished scream from the man.

“Do not move and you will not be harmed. We are here for the money, not your lives—but we’ll take both if we must!” Shredder announced to the bank patrons in his rasping voice.

How long had it been? They needed to get out quickly for this plan to work.

Just as the Foot soldiers succeeded in opening the vault, there came a low rumbling which made the whole bank shake like a sudden and intense earthquake until the floor of the vault rose up and broke apart, the spinning point of the oversized drill bit driving up through the floor as the Transport Module surfaced in the center of the vault. The wide doors slid open with a hiss and the mutated warthog Bebop emerged from within.

No time was wasted as the Foot soldiers began loading bags of cash into the Transport Module, with Bebop helping them. In no time the vault was empty and the Transport Module sank back into the earth.

“Foot Clan! Vanish!” Shredder shouted over the grinding sound of the Transport Module sinking back into the ground and by the time the smoke cleared, there was no evidence of any of the Foot Clan ever having been there, aside from the looted vault and the security guard’s severed hand.

If this wasn’t enough to draw out that infernal reporter she should retire as a journalist…

Now the trap was baited, they just needed to wait for the prey to come sniffing around.

 

[zydrate]

"You know what time it is again, New York.." April stood back and let the camera pan out behind her and onto the stage beyond to where the camera was limited to go. Just as it came info focus, the lights dimmed and loud music boomed on to a deafening tone.

Models came out one by one, in single file, each doing their famous 'model walk' down the runway. It keep a lot for April not to roll her eyes at all the hype the show was getting.

This wasn't her scene really but she was stuck with it none the less. Crime wasn't down in the city, but it wasn't up either. So her boss stuck her on the one hot topic that over took New York once a year... hot topic in fashion that is... the big Fashion Show.

April kept the smile on her face as the camera came back into focus onto her. She continued with her report, breaking for a commercial. It was then she rolled her eyes and let out a big sigh. What was she doing..?!

Her agenda tonight was a few interviews with some fashion designers and also some models.

Perhaps she should buy them something to eat also?

"Hey April!"

She turned around to see her assistant run toward her with a radio in hand. He was smiling big. "I just heard that there's some disturbance going on at Ameri-Savings in Manhattan."

"Don't mess with me Johnny.." she said as she looked at her watch, showing she had about 30 seconds before she was back on.

"I'm serious, the silent alarms sounded and there was supposedly some big explosion!"

It was then she believe him and yanked the radio from his hand, "I bet I can tell you exactly who is behind it all..."

"Wait?! What about the fashion show?"

"Uhh..." she shoved the mic in his hands and held up the radio, "You take over! It's just about 4 minutes from here and with the way I drive, I'll beat the police there."

*****

And she was right. In the back, she could hear the sirens coming closer. She slammed on the breaks and jumped out of the car. But instead of running up the steps, she ran around to the back of the building. And it was there she was stopped dead in her tracks from the view of trucks there. All black and Foot Soldiers loading up the backs of the trucks with bags..

She had her cellphone ready and pressed her back to the wall of the building as she aimed the camera in the direction of the soldiers. Hopefully, they didn't see her...

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

On a different night, the Foot Soldiers might well have missed April, filming from the shadows on her personal device, broadcasting live footage of the heist onto her personal social media outlets with mirrors to and from the Channel 6 profiles. On the rooftop directly above where April was pressing her back against the building, Karai, Rocksteady and a half-dozen elite shock-troops selected from the Foot Clan’s black-belt elite. Their hoods were blue, not black.

Suddenly, the high hiss of unspooling, steel cables rang out from above as the group grappled their way down the side of the building—with variable success. The Foot Troops and Karai made an art-form of it—sprinting down the side of the building with the poise and smoothness of strict martial discipline. Rocksteady flailed and screamed as he rode the grapple rig to the ground, tumbling and crashing into the building as he descended, breaking several windows as he went. In spite of the mutant’s lack of coordination—all eight managed to push off of the building and land in formation, surrounding April and cornering her against the wall.

“You just couldn’t mind your own business, for once,” Karai smirked triumphantly, snatching away April’s phone before it caught her face. With the camera pointed into her palm, Karai shattered the phone in her grasp as easily as if she were crumpling a business card before tossing it against the wall of the bank with the velocity of a cannon charge, “if you resist, you’ll just hurt yourself. I’m sure you’re used to this by now.”

April made no attempt to resist, but Karai delivered a swift punch to April’s narrow midsection, the impact moving up under her ribs and driving the air from her lungs. The punch was joined by an open-handed chop to the side of her neck, knocking her temporarily unconscious.

“Huh, too easy,” Rocksteady scoffed as he caught April’s falling body and slung her over his large, veiny shoulder.

“It went to plan,” Karai grimaced, she despised relying on mutants, “it shouldn’t be so surprising.”

Right on time, a black van slid out of the alleyway beside where April was filming. Karai opened the door for Rocksteady to carry April in first. The troops followed next and Karai was last to climb into the van, taking a moment to make certain that the other trucks were all gone. Satisfied, she slammed the back door of the van shut and the vehicle pulled away.

*-*-*

Lumpy, pink tentacles moved over the responsive touch-screen display, the complete, three-dimensional scan of April’s brain laid out across its surface. Krang, the anthropomorphic brain, read her grey matter like a book, navigating through the representational pixels, honing on the pre-frontal cortex.

“Yes, yes, good!” Krang hissed over the massive console that overlooked the metal table to which April was strapped to, a sensor-array helmet clamped to her scalp, glowing at points of contact, “he he he he, curiosity… of course! That’s my way in.”

Shredder was pacing behind Krang’s workstation—he didn’t share the brain’s enthusiasm for this type of work. The turtles were sure to be searching for her and Shredder was eager to gauge the efficacy of Krang’s “treatment.”

“But first we must move deeper—into the subconscious autonomous functions…”

“Hurry up!”

“Patience… patience… the brain is fragile… one wrong move at this level and I could accidentally stop her heart. But this is where we need to plant our fail-safes… firstly, she can’t hurt any of us—her body simply won’t work in that way. She may want to hit us or shoot us, but her subconscious mind won’t allow it. Her body will always stop just short… He he he he he…”

“More!”

“But of course… next we’ll install a direct command function. Any command issued ‘…in the name of the Foot Clan,’ will be followed to the absolute limits of her abilities. She’ll be helpless to stop herself, though her conscious mind won’t know why.”

“MORE!”

“I’m heightening her erogenous sensitivity, she’ll barely be able to walk without getting wet. Sitting down too roughly will be able to bring her climax!”

“MORE!”

“Five hundred percent!!!”

“Fine! Now bring her to my chambers,” Shredder commanded, turning on the heel to cross the steel floor of the Technodrome, through the automated doors toward his bedroom.

“As you wish, Master Shredder,” Krang grinned, “let’s wake you up, little beauty.”

Krang raised the consciousness as foot soldiers in white hoods unstrapped April from the table and opened the doors to the sealed labs. As April’s consciousness returned, the sensor array was removed from her head.

“In the name of the Foot Clan, walk into Master Shredder’s room and do whatever he asks, Reporter.”

 

[zydrate]

“You just couldn’t mind your own business, for once.”

April wanted to protest as she saw her phone being crumpled into pieces right before her eyes, "I just got that phone.." she muttered to herself.

“if you resist, you’ll just hurt yourself. I’m sure you’re used to this by now.”

To what? She thought to herself and before she could finish that thought, pain shuddered through her midsection. And even then as she tried to make heads or tails of what just happened, another shot of pain rippled through the side of her head...making everything go dark...

*************
She was unconscious through it all... the reprogramming... the violation to her brain...

The turtles would save her. They always came to her aide when she was in trouble with the blasted Foot Clan... "In the name of the Foot Clan, walk into Master Shredder’s room and do whatever he asks, Reporter.” A scrawny voice commanded her.

April opened her eyes wide with surprised but quickly closed them when she realized it was too bright. A small groan escaped her lips as her eyes now fluttered open, adjusting to the light.

Again, the voice told her to walk to Master Shredder's room... April wanted to say something in retort but as much as she tried, she couldn't...

Why?

Instead, she did as she was told...

April cried out as her feet touched the floor, almost a little too fast as a rush of pleasure shot through her most inner womanhood. She groaned slowly as she kept walking, making it through the doors and toward Shredder's suite.

How did she know where it was?

She wanted to run. She could run... but yet, she couldn't.

Instead, she kept walking and finally, entered a dimly lit suite and just as she entered, the doors behind her shut. Why was she here?

She knelt on her knees and spoke meekly (a first for her), "Master Shredder..."

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

By the time April passed through the automated, metal doors, Shredder had already removed and arranged his armor on the wooden rack built to display it. While she was kneeling, he removed the padded shirt that he wore under his bladed plate-mail. Out of armor, he was Oroku Saki, a man.

“Stand up,” Saki commanded his long-time adversary and frequent hostage, “oh, but I want to hear that smart mouth of yours. You may speak freely.”

The command released the psychic gag that had been holding April silent aside from her compliant greeting moments ago. He didn’t acknowledge what she was saying—he barely listened at all, the sound of her voice reminded him who she was and why she deserved this. He wondered inwardly if she would cry, slipping his hands inside the white leather strap of her belt and pulling her slender body against his muscular frame.

His hands flattened out over her hips, sliding back to cup and grip her firm, round butt cheeks and squeezed. Saki’s vascular forearms flexed their veins as he pulled her against the hardening bulge of his cock behind his baggy, kung-fu pants—forcing her to grind her sensitive sex against his.

“Always with this stupid, fucking jumpsuit…” Saki muttered, clearly having his own conversation, separate from anything that April had to say, “dressing like a whore on television, making excuses for those fucking mutants…”

Saki’s right hand moved between April’s ass cheeks, between her thighs to roughly stroke her soaking pussy through the tight fabric of her jumpsuit. His other hand moved around to sharply tug the central zipper on her jumpsuit, exposing the center and edges of the cups of her green bra.

“Fucking whore,” Saki muttered, rubbing her pussy even harder as his palm smashed her squishy tit against her chest as he squeezed roughly, inside of her jumpsuit.

“In the name of the Foot Clan, I command you to say ‘this is April O’Neil for Channel 6 News’ each time you climax from now on and into the future.”

He was rubbing her so roughly now that she was being lifted off of the heels of her white, leather boots.

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk and then turn you over to my stable of mutants—and you’re going to love every second of it. I’ve made sure of that.”