Part 2: Feral Engagements
Lioness sat in the corner of her room with her knees pressed against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She rocked back and forth slightly. All she could do was wait for it to pass. Her body burned with need. Every nerve was at once both tingling and pained. And just because she was used to the sensation, didn't make it any more bearable.
Every couple of months, the same feline DNA that gave her super powers drove her with an entirely different instinct. She was forced to lock herself in her room with enough food and drink to tide her over until her heat passed. She was certain that the other members of her team thought of her as an unmitigated diva but there was nothing she could do about it. If she didn't take those precautions she'd be on top of, or beneath, every man she came into contact with.
Worse, the effects weren't just limited to the heat cycle, either. Sure, those three days, or so, marked the worst physical symptoms but it was the psychological aspects that shamed Lioness the most. If she had known about those when she signed up for the experiment, she would never have agreed. If she thought, for a moment, that the scientists had realized what her psyche would go through
before
they implanted the genetic material she would have long since sought them out and dispensed her own kind of justice.
The problem lay in the nature of her heat. Like all animals, it represented a period of highest fertility and caused an instinctive draw to procreate.
Un
like animals, however, she suffered more than a physical motivation. Her heat cycles actually rewrote her subconscious in an effort to change her personality to better drive her towards pregnancy.
Long-term birth control was a necessity for her. It became quite clear to everyone after a few cycles, however, that she couldn't be trusted with that particular decision and so power of attorney had been invoked for this particular issue. The phantom pain deep within her core was her mind's attempt to demand she have the IUD removed.
That wasn't the least of her problems. Over time, her personality developed to more accurately suit the men around her. All that mattered to her subconscious was what could most accurately entice a willing partner. At this point, Lioness had lived with the condition for so long that she could no longer remember what she'd been like before the experiment.
Where the other women might not even realize that their costumes became more and more revealing over time, as a form of competition for attention, Lioness was fully conscious of her own actions. It was all she could do to remember that there were still some decency laws that applied to paras. Thankfully, the fact that she needed her feline form in order to utilize her superior abilities added a measure of modesty that her psychosis would have otherwise prevented.
Thus, Lioness rocked in the corner in her costume. Nothing more than a thin bikini. She couldn't even convince herself to add a top to the supposed ensemble. After all, silky orange-yellow fur concealed her nipples. Otherwise, she was no more exposed than anyone covered head to foot in spandex.
Of course, everyone was aware of her state of nudity. She saw it in the eyes of the citizens she saved. The men ogled her and barely managed to keep their hands from groping, or outright molesting, her. They thought it was for their own safety. She had a reputation as a fierce and feral fighter. In truth, it
was
for their safety but not in the way they thought. If they knew the truth they probably would have happily taken the risk.
Lioness whimpered helplessly. She was only half-way through the current cycle. Some would probably try to say she
only
had a day left, two at most. That was all well and good for someone who didn't suffer through the heat. To her, even that single day seemed like an eternity of desire, need, lust and pain.
The refrigerator remained untouched, even after a day-and-a-half. She'd stocked it, as she always did, for the full three days. She never touched it until the heat had passed, however. At which point, she ravaged the contents in an orgy of hunger that mocked the denied pleasures of the rest of the time. Only when she'd regained her strength, as well as her composure, would she be released from her semi-self-imposed prison.
Lioness was never sure whether her weakening was a blessing or a curse. It didn't lessen the pain or desire she felt. It only signaled the encroaching end to her misery. Now, about halfway through her heat, she was still stronger than the average man. By the end, she would be so weak that even the most feeble person could take advantage of her.
Not that she wouldn't roll over and spread herself if someone merely hinted that was his predilection.
Lioness found herself thankful that all three of the men on the team seemed inclined to approve of strong women. All it would take was one misogynistic bastard, especially if he seemed the most likely to approach her, and she'd find herself a mewling kitten rather than the great Lioness!
Where once she had thought herself a strong, independent, woman, now she hated herself. She hated her life. And, most of all, she hated the pain that coursed through her veins.
Concentration on her debilitating condition was the only possible reason that her enhanced senses failed to detect the presence of another person in the room. Her world narrowed and time seemed to stop entirely the moment she felt the hand rest on her shoulder. Even her thoughts froze in a tangled confusion of hope and dread.
It took her an agonizingly long moment for her focus to adjust to take in the being that stood before her. The contradiction of emotions spiked the instant she recognized it was a male. In part, nothing else mattered. It was only the civilized portion of her brain that insisted the full identity of her savior was important, and only then because it would define the manner in which she stalked her prey.
The youth and smoothness of his facial features was enough. Scourge had the perpetual roguish scruff of a two-day beard while Daedalus was clean-shaven but with a much sharper jaw line. Truthfully, there was little difference in the method with which she would pursue each of the three. It was mostly a matter of how aggressively she would act.
Lioness completely missed what Electron had said. All she could hear was the pounding beat of her heart as it roared in her ears. He asked again but her results were no better. From the concerned look on his face, he probably asked if she was all right.
