Pandora and Drake were too much tired for a direct confrontation. They needed to buy themselves some time for rest. Still lying on his back, Drake summoned what little concentration he had left and conjured the first illusion that came
to his mind.
An army of nude Pandoras appeared out of nowhere and filled the strip joint. Mr Pimp's henchmen were frozen in confusion and arousal. On one hand they knew these women were not real, but the nude girls with their big bouncing boobs that were rubbing themselves
over them didn't feel like illusions. They should probably snap out of their reverie and run after the couple that was trying to escape through the back door, like their boss was telling them to.
"You fools. You're letting them escape," shouted an angry Mr Pimp at his unresponsive henchmen.
On the other hand, Drake's illusions were hard-light constructs. Which meant that although these women weren't the real Pandora, they would still feel exactly like the real one, from outside and inside. No one could tell the difference between banging the real
one and the fake ones. Understandably, the henchmen were very tempted.
Unbeknown to Mr Pimp and his henchmen, the Pandora and Drake that were escaping through the back door were also illusions. The real ones were hidden behind an invisible barrier, arguing with each other.
"Did you have to make an army of copies of me?" Pandora asked her companion.
"Sorry. I didn't have much else on my mind at the moment," Drake responded sincerely.
Still nude, the pair was trying to pass by Mr Pimp and his goons while they were busy figuring out what to do.
"If we survive to that, I'll make you pay for this," she threatened.
Drake grinned like a silly boy. Usually Pandora's punishment involved having him fuck her from behind. They chanced a last look at their enemies who were obviously enjoying the attention of Pandora's illusionary copies. The front door was just in front of them.