Continuing the MC perils of the superheroine, Vine...


Vine blinked, shook her head, and then gasped.

"Oh my gosh!" she said. "I remember! I know who I am! I'm me again!"

The well toned, deeply tanned, raven-haired superheroine sat stretched out on a chaise sofa. She wore a tank top and shorts that left her arms, legs, and feet bare. A pair of discarded flip-flops lay where she'd dropped them earlier by her seat. In front of the chaise was a square coffee table, and on the other side of it sat a professionally dressed man holding a notepad and a mechanical pencil. He nodded at Vine and smiled approvingly.

"Thank you so much," Vine said to the man. "I had lost everything, and worse, I didn't even I know I had. But you've helped bring it all back."

"It's my pleasure. I'm glad I could help."

"I can't believe how deep into it I was. I mean, I know superheroines get hypnotized and mind controlled into doing all kinds of things they wouldn't normally do. But--holy cow!--Severna Strickland really did a number on me. She brainwashed all knowledge of who I was and what I could do right out of me. I mean, look at how I'm dressed: California casual is not my thing. I'm a power dresser, from head to high heels."

"Yes, Ms. Strickland did indeed do a number on you. Her mind controlling skills are nothing short of incredibly impressive, and of course completely vile."

"So what happens now?" Vine asked. "Am I completely free of her control? Do I have to worry about any hidden programming or triggers?"

"I believe I have completely deprogrammed your mind, and it is totally free of her control. Still, there are some things to discuss."

"Sure, okay. I just wish I could change into something more...me."

"I think I can help with that. Just a moment."

The man picked up the receiver to his office phone and pressed a button on it. His receptionist answered the line.

"Please send in our guest," he said. "Thank you."

Vine raised an inquisitive eyebrow. The man simply smiled in response. Then she heard the door open behind her. She turned to look over the back of the chaise. Standing there she saw a pretty blonde woman with an athletic figure. The woman wore a formfitting shirt and skirt combo, accessorized with a long cape and a thick belt. She carried a large shopping bag.

"Superia!" Vine said. "I'm so glad to see you!"

Superia rushed over to sit next to her friend. The two women embraced for a long time before pulling back from one another.

"But, wait," Vine said. "I thought Severna brainwashed you. She told me that right before she did it to me."

"She did," Superia said with a frown. "But I was fortunate to get help, just like you. I've now broken free of her control and regained all of my memories."

As she spoke, Superia gestured to the man. She smile appreciatively at him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

"And here, I brought you something," she said, handing Vine the bag.

Vine opened it and could barely contain a squeal of glee: Her full superheroine outfit, including her signature pumps, was inside.

"Why don't you use my bathroom to change? Then, we can continue our discussion," the man said.

Vine didn't need to be asked twice. She leapt off the couch and dashed to the bathroom. In just a few minutes, she returned, now clad in a black body suit with gloves, utility belt, and open-toed high heels.

"I figure the mask is unnecessary at this point," she said, depositing it and her civilian clothes into the bag, "given that everyone knows my identity--including me! Yay! So, what did you want to discuss? And, is it okay if Superia stays with me as we talk?"

"Of course it is. In fact, it's best that she does stay."

Vine gazed happily at her friend. How could she have forgotten this woman? How could she have not remembered all the things they'd been through together? She couldn't believe how much control Severna Strickland had exerted over her. But she was grateful that the nightmare was over, and she could begin to put her life back together. Having her friend there by her side would make it so much easier.

Then, something struck her as odd. Superia sat beside her, fully garbed in her superheroine costume and regalia, except...she wasn't wearing her boots, nor even her tights. She was barefoot.

Aside from it being odd for heroines to go around unshod, excepting those few aquatic or jungle themed ones, Vine knew full well that Severna Strickland insisted all of her thralls be barefoot. So, was Superia truly deprogrammed, or did that villain still maintain some kind of hold on her?

"Superia," Vine said cautiously, "why aren't you wearing your boots?"

The man and Superia shared a somber glance, and then he answered for her.

"This leads into what I wanted to discuss with you, Vine. And it concerns Superia, too. I told you earlier that your mind is free of Ms. Strickland's control. And that is true. The same applies to Superia. However--"

"Oh, boy," Vine said with a dejected sigh. "It's always about the howevers."

"Your and her feet are a different matter."

"Huh?"

"Listen, Vine," Superia said, taking her friends hands into her own. "My feet have been hypnotized. I'm not in control of them. Someone else is. I don't know who, how, or why. But they act on their controller's orders, not mine. I can't get boots, tights, shoes, socks, flip-flops, or anything else on them. Now, this is me. It may not be you. But both of us were captured and brainwashed by Severna. Maybe she didn't just whammy our heads. Maybe she also ensnared our feet."

"Huh," Vine said. "I had no idea that was a thing."

"Unfortunately, it is," the man said. "My clinical assessment is that Superia's feet have been brainwashed. And my concern is that your feet may have been, as well."

"And you think Severna did this to us?"

The man shrugged.

"It's a possibility. In any case, I'm sure that I can break your feet free of their programming, just as I did your minds. To start, I'll need to run some tests. There's a slight chance of danger, but I think that if we're careful, everyone will be all right."

"Well, you've done right by us so far," Vine said. "So, sure, do whatever you think is best."

"Good. In my sessions with Superia, we discovered one of the triggers for her feet."

"Yeah," Superia said. "Whenever I'm in proximity to another woman who's barefoot, my feet start doing their own thing."

"Yikes," Vine said sympathetically, and then realization struck her. "Wait a minute, to run these tests, we'll need to trigger Superia's feet, right? And I'm the woman in proximity to her, which means...I have to ditch my shoes. Ugh! I just got reacquainted with them."

"Yes, that's right," the man said. "I'm sorry. But it's only temporary."

Vine sighed and then nodded. Slowly and remorsefully, she slid her feet out of her pumps, one foot at a time.

"Oh!" Superia said, as soon as her friend's feet were bare. "That definitely did something."
 
She swung her legs around and placed both of her feet on Vine's stomach.

"Don't interfere if you can avoid it," the man said. "We need to see what they're going to do, as well as what, if anything, yours will do."

"Got it," Vine said, staring down at her stomach nervously. 

Superia's left foot began to move. It lifted up to Vine's right shoulder. Then it pushed forward, pressing Vine back against the chaise.

"Easy there," Vine said. "Any more pressure and you'll crush my branches."

"Sorry!" Superia said. "But it's not me. I can't pull it away. Are you all right?"
 
"Yeah. I just can't move."

Then Superia's right foot lifted up. The toes hovered at Vine's chin for a moment, then slowly rose up to her mouth. Vine gazed pleadingly at her friend, but all Superia could do was give her a I don't know what to tell you look.

The toes rubbed up and down on Vine's lips, then pushed lightly against them. Knowing full well the superhuman strength that Superia possessed, and not wanting to suffer a broken jaw or lose any teeth, Vine opened her mouth. The foot immediately proceeded inside, gently caressing Vine's tongue with its toes and brushing her lips with its balls and sole.

Vine gagged slightly but kept her mouth open. Then, her own feet twitched. They lifted up and placed themselves on the coffee table, as Vine stared down at them incredulously.

"Yes, just as I suspected," the man said, making a note on his pad. "Your feet were brainwashed, too. And the actions of Superia's feet have triggered them, just as baring them triggered hers. Now the question is, what have they been programmed to do?"

As Superia's right foot subjected Vine to the worship of it, Vine's feet began to gesture at the man. The motions seemed to indicate that he should move closer to them. He voiced this opinion to the heroines. Superia agreed with it. Vine, being unable to speak, shrugged and nodded.

The man got up from his chair and moved to sit on the edge of the table in front of Vine. The heroine's entranced feet then placed themselves in his lap. They didn't rest there, though, instead staying very active. To no one's surprise more than Vine's, they proved themselves to be both nimble and skilled.

For the next several minutes, no one in the room spoke. Superia's mouth hung open in awe. Vine's mouth also remained open, as her friend's foot continued to procure from her a thorough worship of itself. The man's mouth sometimes stayed closed and sometimes opened to utter a sigh of pleasure or a moan of ecstasy.

A little while later, the man had moved back to his chair, while the two women sat where they had been. Superia used a hand towel to soak up the saliva from her foot, while Vine cleaned her feet with a wet washcloth.

"Don't despair, ladies. I know it's difficult not being in control of your own feet. But now that we know what they've been brainwashed to do, I'm confident that we can deprogram them and get them back under your control where they belong. Let's setup an appointment for tomorrow at the same time, and we'll get to work on doing that."

"Thank you, Cyril," Superia said. "I'll see you then."

"Yes, thank you so much, Cyril," Vine said. "I'm so relieved to get my own mind back. And I look forward to getting my own feet back soon."

"You're both very welcome, ladies," Cyril Wellington said. "It's my pleasure to help. My absolute pleasure."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the journal of Cyril Wellington:

The task of placing the two superheroines, Superia and Vine, under my control is done. Not only did all go well, but both subjects exceeded my expectations. They proved to be incredibly suggestible to the point where they readily accepted that their feet, acting as separate entities from their minds, had been brainwashed, even though I had supposedly deprogrammed their brains. Future sessions should proceed equally well, if not better, as I further exploit their suggestibility and use it to strengthen my already considerable hold over them. The only downside is that I will need to stock more lubricant, wash clothes, and hand towels in the bathroom....