Kim Possible Porn Story: BRAINSTORM on Aisle 6 Chapter 1

Kim Possible Porn Story: BRAINSTORM on Aisle 6 Chapter 1

BRAINSTORM on Aisle 6

by jakt

Authors Notes: kt and I decided to put Kim and Ron in a sitch that may ROCK your own world in more than one cornucopia of disturbing events. So hang onto your nearest naked mole rat.

Also it will sound like we are writing from past tense to present tense all the time in some of the chapters. First person to second and even third at times too. Well get used to it cause theres a very good reason in this story. It also helps to know a little French too.

Bwa-hah-hah-hah-hah!

KT! Think we got them hooked?

Giggle! Yes. The diminutive smile on her face was followed by a very, very evil grin.

–xx–

Prologue

Newly promoted to the head of Global Justice, Betty, also known as Dr. Director, was exhausted after a very long, very trying third day on the job. She had not realized just how tired as she pressed the call button on the lift tube, but she could feel the aches starting as she waited. In mere moments, the lift doors opened and she stepped inside the waiting cylinder.

She really hated the damn thing as it reminded her way to much of the pneumatic tube systems that banks used at drive-ins so one teller could work a number of vehicles at once. And the tubes cylinder made her feel like a bank deposit getting ready to be sucked off to some teller for a quick transaction. The comparison, she thought, was a good one: they were both basically the same system. Global Justices system was just a heck of a lot bigger. More power on a grander scale, she thought with a tired smile.

The moment the transport tube doors closed, her shoulders sagged and she leaned back against the wall. She would just have to get used to the system. Besides, she knew the big heads were working on an improved system that would not need the cylinders just step inside and get whooshed away Like something flushed down a toilet, she chuckled to herself.

Hopefully, they will fix the spinning problem They keep telling me its just my imagination, but I know better. Damn thing is like taking a ride in the washers spin cycle sometimes, she thought as she reached out and pressed the command button.

Level 6, she said.

The lift suddenly plummeted like an eagle in an accelerated dive-bombing run going after its morning meal, but the eagle didnt spin all the way down. Due to the sheer force of the cylinders decent, she could feel her feet leaving the floor as her body started sliding up toward the ceiling. All the while, she could also feel her back pressed into the wall as the cylinder rotated with enough speed to start a centrifugal effect pinning her to the wall just like someone had hung her there on a nail.

Straining, she reached towards the manual controls, fighting with everything she had.

To her dismay, she could not reach them.

The cylinder was in complete free-fall, spinning out of control, and there was nothing she could do She was lost.

She threw herself at the manual controls in one last desperate attempt to reach them but found herself now wedged where the ceiling of the car met the wall with the controls far out of her reach.

Then everything was reversed, and she found herself flying downward from the roof as the cylinder swooshed to a halt and the doors snapped open, sending her abruptly toward the floor: face first and spinning out of control.

Reacting on pure instinct, she reached out with her hands and managed to catch the door frame as she flew by it. The force of the fall, coupled with her holding the doorframe and her spin, acted like a swing gone wild and sent her flying out of the cylinder and into the hallway feet first, still spinning out of control. Curling into a ball to try to protect herself, some long forgotten memory from her days in gymnastics kicked in as she corrected the spin and hit the floor tumbling. On her third or fourth roll, she sprang up, adding a twist at the last second, hit the wall across from the lift doors back first and with enough force to leave a bruise but stand on her feet. Leaning on the walls solid support, she started taking deep breaths to try and calm herself and let the knot in her stomach unwind as she eyed the lift with the convection of something, or someone, had just tried to kill her.

After a few moments, still shaking, she headed for the nearest intercom.

Engineering, maintenance, she said after she pressed the button

Maintenance here.

Dr. Director here. Check main GJ Tube 36 alpha for malfunction. Report to Command Comm. when completed. Dr. Director out.

She walked down the corridor, slowly regaining her composure and anticipating the security of her quarters. The door swooshed open while she was still a good 10 feet away from it but her mind was so absorbed in what had just happened that she failed to notice. She rolled onto her bed, rubbing the tension knot at the back of her neck. It loosened a little and she concentrated, banishing worry, willing herself to rest, mentally focusing her muscles to relax. It was easier than she had expected. Something she could not place disarmed her clicking mind and seduced it into inactivity. As sleep stretched out its arms she almost understood. Through the darkened room filtered the gentle, nearly inaudible strains of Brahms Lullabye.

–xx–

Chapter 1

February 2, 1997 Wednesday Afternoon

Report, Dr. Laisser.

It worked well on my intended target, Vrin, but I do not like being handcuffed. Her complete destruction would have been more preferable.

Jack Hench sighed. In what context, Dr.? From the pugnacious thrust of her chin, it was quite clear that his lead scientist and mind control device expert had been mightily offended by someone or something else. Her frustration with the test results of her latest device was just a miff. It was equally certain that Ilene Laisser, PhD extraordinaire, had no intention of leaving his office until shed extracted a satisfactory response to her displeasure along with her report.

He folded his hands in priestly patience, knowing he wouldnt have to wait long for the French beauty to get to the specifics. Like gathering storm clouds, her eyebrows lowered into a frown. Here it comes, he thought to himself.

I dont like twiddling my thumbs while waiting for my two esteemed junior dunces, Bortel and Langford, to finish their calculations on the Attitudinator, Moodulator and Memory Recovery Machine projects. I will not simply wait for someone else to do their work because they sit about, lounging around all day, watching their, how do you say it, Sportage.

Jack motioned her to the couch, across from his desk, as he tried to deduce the real source of her wrath. He smiled warily at the young brilliant doctor and thought back on why he had hired her last year. After all, she was the youngest, classiest, smartest, and sexiest engineer he had ever come across. Out of all of the college candidates he had looked into, she was the perfect asset that fit the HenchCo mold, and he knew his development division would never be the same. Yep, that was his intended plan until he realized that she had an agenda all her own. Her college records, which he had paid quite handsomely for a personal copy, had mentioned that she could be quite a handful, but only now, in the past few months, did he surmise how much of a handful she was by really turning into the proverbial pain in the butt. Pure tude, of the sick and wrong kind, he thought to himself.

Still, Ilene was at the very top of her graduating class at the INSA Lyon (Institut National des Sciences Appliques de Lyon) and its five year curriculum. Sure, that school was specifically geared to her and a few others who possessed humane qualities and could handle multiple competences in 12 specialized fields, but it was that je ne sais quoi that drew him to her. Of course her background in Biochemistry, Biotechnology, Bioinformatics, Civil Engineering and Urbanism, Electrical Engineering, Energy and Environmental Engineering, Mechanical Engineering Design, Mechanical Engineering Development, Mechanical Engineering and Plasturgy Processes, Industrial Engineering, Computer Sciences, Materials Science and Engineering, and Remote-Control Telecommunications also had something to do with his choice too.

Somehow, here and now, he had to salvage that intelligence and talent for his company. He tensed while he was contemplating that thought and he hoped that she wouldnt take notice of his reaction, but by the way her eyes looked directly into his, he sensed his own indomitable will about to start colliding with hers. He touched the air at his left side, distracting the attractive French woman.

It was only as she turned her head, observing his movement, that she noticed the holographic computer view screen hanging in front of him. At least four dozen objects were processing vast amounts of data from different countries all over the world. Qu’est-ce que c’est dans le nom du ciel? she asked.

Humm? with a flicker of frustration in his eyes, he glanced at the chaos being processed in the air. Oh, just some blasted data on a young adventurous 14 year old teenager, traveling round the world doing things for people for a favor. She wont take a dime, and shes been driving me to distraction for the past week, but I refuse to surrender until I figure out why she does that. Pressing a few keys on the touch keyboard that was hidden on his desktop, the holographic display winked out of sight and CEO Hench now faced PhD Laisser with his full attention. Would I be correct in guessing, he said, that the cause of your indignation goes beyond your two assistants, who seem to repetitively fail to live up to your standards?

You would. They are as incompetent as the day is long, and of course, you are familiar with my rule number one: It is not a good idea unless it comes from me? Well, they consistently violate it along with half of the other lab workers.

Doctor, I hardly think he started, but she interrupted.

No, thats the trouble, Hench. You think too much. I have more talent in my little finger than all 15 of my so-called lab personnel have in their heads combined.

I know, I know. You are preaching to the choir, he said calmly, hoping to deflect her anger. Its going to take some time, but I will do my best to find you better qualified help.

She backed down a bit and seemed placated, a bit of the starch washed from her posture. Thats what I wanted all along; I just wanted to make sure I had your attention.

You always have that. You know the high regard I have for your professional skills.

I wish your hench-people shared that opinion, she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

I seriously doubt they view you as just a glorified naked lab rat nibbling on a cheese wheel.

Who said anything about glorified, she snapped, a flash of her earlier resentment returning in her eyes.

Jack rose and circled the desk, standing over her. Ilene, I made you head of the Research Development Lab. What greater compliment could they pay you?

With a sigh, she slumped back against the couch cushion. I guess you are right, Vrin. Maybe I am overreacting.

I dont think this is the only thing on your mind.

She managed a sliver of a smile. Being the over-optimistic physiatrist again?

He smiled back, Without empathic powers, I wouldnt even make the attempt. But I have developed a certain level of sensitivity to the moods and concerns of my workers.

His oblique invitation to dump her troubles right there on his desk was definitely tempting, but she waived it off with a shake of her head. Oh, enfer you wouldnt understand, Vrin.

Try me.

Ilene considered the offer, but remained mute. During the silence, Jack pondered the merits of continued persistence on the subject. He truly liked and respected Ilene, but hed be the last to claim any clear comprehension of her inner workings. She could be mercurial, stiff-necked, hot blooded, and skeptical all matching the profile of a stereotypical hot headed French lover. But she was also so much more than that simple profile. She was indeed exceedingly complex. Gaining firsthand knowledge of her personal demons might not be the wisest course.

Still, she was a valued, trusted, and brilliant employee. Plus, she was also his intellectual friend. So much for wisdom, he concluded his thoughts with a mental shrug. He was not going to let her leave without giving her every chance to unburden herself.

I know you dont confide in any one Ilene, but under the circumstances, I thought I might suffice for the moment. If I was to hazard a guess, Id say youre worried that your current work is in jeopardy.

Bon seigneur I am that transparent? Her expression softened into a wondering, gentle, haunting laugh.

I understand better than you might think, he said with a twinkle as he leaned back on the edge of his desk.

She made a halfhearted attempt to ease the moment. I didnt mean oh, dammit, yes I did she said with a bit of heat now entering her tone.

Ilene, sooner or later you are going to have to deal with your own problems.

I know. And the closer that time comes, the more I want to push it back. She took a long breath, not at all certain she wanted to pursue the matter. Vrin, may I ask you a personal question?

Yes.

When did you feel like your mother let you go strike out on your own?

Jack suppressed a smile, but his eyes lit with amusement.

Never.

Ilene Laisser winced. Ah, merveilleux

–xx–

February 4, 1997 Late Friday Night

It was dark in the lab, real dark. Except for the light directly over Ilenes lab table, everything else was shrouded in darkness. Then, suddenly, it got brighter than the noon day sun as the entire room lit up.

She stood at her station fiddling with a flask, unfazed by the event. She wore a long white lab coat and her flowing shoulder-length brown hair was pinned up in a bun. Beakers, test tubes, and other gadgetry surrounded her like artificial satellites orbiting around a planet, and in the flask in her hand something bubbled and fizzed.

Langford entered, not wearing a lab coat which was a violation of the highest degree of professionalism to her. He knew how to push her professional and personal buttons and enjoyed doing it with a holy vengeance. Casually, without any care to what he was doing, he leaned over the table sipping a cherry Slurpster and started humming an incessant tune that he knew would drive any sane person crazy.

“What are you doing here so late, Ilene?” he said with a mouth full of sarcasm mixed with a slosh of Slurpster.

Oh, how that perturbed her when he called her by her first name without any sign of the respect she demanded from those under her. “Can’t tell you!?! Are you that big of an idiot?”

“Aw, come on. It’s just me, he said as he took another big sip and set the drink down.

“Be careful where you put that, Langford! He had placed the Slurpster on the lab table about a foot away from her.

“Sorry.”

“Is there something you need, Dr. Langford?”

“Just trying to be personable. Find an English dictionary and look it up in your spare time: it just might make a human being out of you. Bye.” As he turned to go, he let a tiny white tablet slip from the palm of his hand and drop into the Slurpster. He slowly passed behind her, smirking and making a face at her, as he exited through the side door leaving the drink behind.

She barely noticed him, her mind totally absorbed back into her experiment and its pending reaction. She poured a clear liquid into the flask, measured something else that looked like it came from an old-time childs first chemistry set and made a note in her journal as the Slurpster started to fizz.

She finished what she was doing and scribbled again in her notebook. Normally she had a serious face when recording her findings, but now she was smiling– no, glowing. She held up the flask and looked through it. It was a pure clear liquid that didn’t look any different than water. She had accomplished exactly what she had set out to do. Then suddenly, she frowned.

Something smelled off in the room. She looked around, checking her work. Nothing was open that shouldn’t have been, nothing was out of place.

The sound of fizzing came to her ears. Her eyes turned to the Slurpster that Langford had left behind, and her brow furrowed. From the way his memory worked, he could just as easily as left his oven on at home as he left his drink on the table: both without any thought at all.

Then her face smoothed. The lines on her brow faded, but the smile that was there 10 seconds ago didn’t return either: her face instead turned neutral and blank, and her dark eyes became unfocused. Her head listed to the side, awkwardly. As the motion of her head continued, her eyes dimmed, then closed. Her knees buckled, her legs folded beneath the weight of her body, and she sank to the floor, unconscious. The flask that she had held in her hand shattered on the tile beside her, dousing her hand and lab coat arm with the liquid.

Nothing happened for a long time except an eerie silence: it was late and the lab was the only lit room in the building, and that only faintly. The light just showing the clock over the door as it ticked away twenty minutes.

Langford walked back in, followed by another man: short, with white hair and a beard. They looked over the incapacitated woman on the floor as Langford kneeled next to her.

“Bortel, dump that Slurpster down the sink, and don’t get it anywhere near your face. One breath of that and you’ll go out like a light.” Langford said as he placed two fingers on Laissers neck checking for a pulse.

“I thought you said it would dissipate after fifteen minutes?”

“You want to be the one to test that? I’m not carrying both of you out of here.”

Bortel picked up the drink, holding it at arms length, and moved to the sink on the far wall and poured the thing down the drain, running water to rinse the remains out of the cup and the sink. Is she ok? HHHe asked as he finished and started back toward Langford.

“She’s fine. Come here, take her legs.” Langford sat her up and gripped her under the arms. Her head slumped forward onto her chest. The bun of long hair loosened and started to come apart. Bortel took her by the ankles.

“One, two…” They lifted.

“What’s that wet spot on her lab coat arm?”

“No idea. I wouldn’t touch it, though.”

Ilenes coat fell open and dragged on the tile floor as they carried her: revealing a pair of tight black slacks and a thin, form-fitting black sweater.

“Damn, Ms. Frenchy dresses hot under that lab coat. Who knew?”

“Those are always the ones,” smiled Bortel adding Its always the snooty ones Uptight and cold on the outside, burning up like a runaway nuclear reactor on the inside They scream and yell at you for even thinking of them as pretty or sexy, then burn you alive for not thinking of them that way…

They passed into the next room: the rec room.

“Are you sure she’s not going to remember any of this?”

“She won’t remember a thing. She’ll probably think she fell asleep after working for so long. Here, put her in front of the TV.” As they sat her on the couch, Ilene flopped over onto her side. Langford took her by the arm and pulled her to a sitting position, then leaned her back on the couch, facing the TV. Standing up, he looked at her and then knelt back down and removed her shoes and placed them on the floor in front of her, then gently tucked her feet under her, all the while muttering about making it look more natural.

As he stood back up, he called over his shoulder, “Put on Prime Access, or something that plays all night and isn’t the Weather Channel.” Looking over their handiwork one more time, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hey. We’re good to go. Yeah. You have most of the night, if you need it. Yeah. We have to do some cleaning up here, then photocopy and change her personal lab notes, and access and wipe all computer master files so we will be a little while; probably three or four hours, at least. Ok. See you then.” He hung up.

“All right: cleanup time, and then on to greater glory than HenchCo could ever hope to offer us, my dear Cyrus.” They went back to the lab, leaving Ilene’s sleeping face pointed at the TV as the last hour of the movie To Catch a Thief played.

–xx–

Ilene wasn’t sleeping, though.

Her eyes opened to the barest slits a moment after the men left the room. She didn’t do it consciously; it was more of a motor response, because she wasn’t awake either.

She was in another state of mind altogether.

The liquid had since dried on her hand and was quickly drying on her lab coat sleeve. The end product of what she had made just happened to be extremely water soluble, and not all of it had evaporated: some of it had been absorbed. While she’d lain on the floor of the lab it had soaked through her skin, and while Langford and Bortel had carried her, it had been absorbed into her blood stream. From there it was a short trip to the brain.

She wasn’t awake, but her mind was. As the chemical spread: synapses fired, signals were interrupted, then rerouted. Her brain tried to wake up, but her body wouldn’t let it; the sedative that had been hidden in the Slurpster kept her down.

Images flowed from the TV into her eyes, then straight to her brain where it absorbed them. The images were now at the end of some kung fu movie: a woman was jumping around, beating the heck out of everyone around her and looking good doing it.

Her mind absorbed it, every frame of it.

The next movie came on: a black and white movie about an evil hypnotist that was a cheesy old thing even when it was released: a B movie, even then. The villain would wave his hands at girls as he raised an eyebrow, and their eyes would go wide and glaze over. Then they’d helplessly follow him away.

Her mind absorbed every second of it.

Another hour passed. The next came on– it was a science fiction movieForbidden Planet.

Her mind absorbed each and every detail of it.

In the chaos of her thoughts, everything she had been exposed to blended together and was amplified with the evil, the treachery and the villainy that accompanied them.

Before sunrise, it changed to a documentary on film noir, showing clips of all the great detective movies from the 40s. Her eyes finally closed as the drug wore down, and she went to sleep for real. The last thing she remembered was seeing a blank blue screen after the TV station signed off while resetting for the days new programming schedule.

Earlier in the main laboratory, a huge power surge began to build as Langford and Bortel fired up the labs master computing system without going through the standard operating procedures. For them, time was of the essence, and the fear of being discovered before they completed their thievery was a real possibility. They needed to race the clock to be finished before the morning shift arrived so overriding all protocols seemed to be in their best interestand hang any damage as they wouldnt be working for Hench anytime soon when he found out. So instead of a controlled start, the energy built up like water behind a dam.

Trying to escape its environment, the pent-up power began sending out small bursts of icy-blue tendrils of electrical energy throughout the entire building, looking for a way to be free. It was as if it was driven

as if someone were consciously calling it.

The flood of energy continued passing through every electrical connection in the building, blowing circuit breakers right and left as it sought to escape its captivity. It wanted liberty from the restraints being placed on it. It wanted to be free from the captive wiring holding it.

Finally, over four hours later, in the rec room, it found a way out. Pursuing the active path through a TV cord it discovered relative unbounded freedom inside a large square box; and, yet, it knew it had to travel farther. Reaching out again, through the electromagnetic waves in the air and finding a conduit through the static electricity in Ilenes hair, it entered her limp, helpless, barely breathing body a few feet away

and found a home.

–xx–

And so the adventure begins

–xx–

Kim Possible Characters Y the Walt Disney Company, USA

Where are Kim and Ron you ask? Well theyll be around in a few.

Evil grin.

Followed by an evil, very evil, giggle.

Betas, you ROCK!

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