Oh wow guys, it’s actually here! My new heroine-in-peril Miranda, a.k.a: Bombshell, begins her sexy misadventures today. I’m so excited for all my Besties to finally meet her, and I’m sure you’re all ready, at long last, for some more actual bona fide Lady Jane Superheroine Peril. So I won’t drag this out, let’s begin…
Before
The lights went out and a shock of fear raced through Miranda’s chest. Momentarily blind, she reached instinctively for the switch, only to feel a big hand seize her wrist. The door leading back into the hallway slammed shut with a startling bang that gave her a jolt. Before she could react, another hand grabbed her shoulder, turned her around and shoved her face first against the door. Her slender body tensed against the weight of the man holding her in place.
Miranda sucked in a breath, “Warren, what are-“
“Shut up, bitch!”
Her blood ran cold. The voice hissing in her ear seemed unfamiliar, rough, an octave too deep.
Miranda’s chest tightened. Her heart began to race. The man at her back pulled her silky blonde hair to one side, then pressed his lips against the nape of her neck. In the four hundred and seven days since her wedding, she’d received four hundred and seven (four hundred and eight now) identical kisses. Usually they came first thing in the morning while she was brushing her teeth or fixing her hair. As the tension eased through her body, he twisted her arm behind her back, firm but not painful. Miranda’s heart did not stop racing.
“W-what do you want?” she asked, putting a tremor in her voice.
“The only thing of value in this whole fucking house!”
His free hand slid down her other arm, sending a rush through her shoulders. He twisted it behind her back as well and held both her wrists with one hand.
“All my jewelry is on the dresser,” she said quickly.
His free hand was tracing back up the subtle hourglass curves of her side. It had been hot out that day, so she was only wearing a denim miniskirt with a light tank top. Everywhere he touched sent nervous tingles over her skin. She shifted, grunting softly, his grip was tight, bordering on uncomfortable and it sent a rush of excitement up her spine.
“Not quite what I meant…” He grabbed her breast, so quick and tight she jumped.
Miranda gasped as he kneaded her firm C-cup roughly. She arched into the groping as hot sparks tumbled through her chest and down her flat tummy. She shuddered violently as his hot wet tongue licked from her collarbone up to her ear.
“I came for you, bitch!” Hearing that word from his lips, lips that had always been gentle and loving to her, was like a slap in the face.
Miranda gulped, licked her lips and didn’t have to fake the tremor this time. “M-my husband will be home any minute…”
“I better be quick then!” he growled.
Miranda squealed in surprise as he spun her away from the door. He pushed her towards the bed and slapped her tight round ass hard enough to send a sting through her. Miranda trotted forward as a tingle crawled between her legs. She thought about resisting, fighting back to play along, but another stinging spank scrambled her brains, and then she was being shoved down on the bed. He’d been aggressive before but never rough, and Miranda was soaking her panties as he manhandled her.
Practically panting, she looked up into Warren’s face, his angular features were sternly set. His sharp jawline clenched as he tugged the straps off her narrow shoulders. His blue eyes focused on her breasts as he yanked down her shirt and bra to expose her rosy nipples, already rock hard. She could see the lust and the hunger in his gaze, and it sent a flush of white heat through her. Miranda couldn’t resist reaching up to run a hand through his dark, messy hair.
He snatched her wrist and pinned it to the bed so quick she couldn’t hold back a burst of nervous giggles. His other hand clamped over her mouth immediately. She saw a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Don’t make me smile…” His voice was deep and husky, and it thrummed through her so intensely she almost moaned. “…You sexy little bitch.”
Miranda murmured under his hand and couldn’t resist licking his palm. He turned her head forcefully to one side and began devouring her neck. Waves of heat rolled over her and she writhed against his thick body. The sensation of his velvety tongue, sloppy kisses and fine teeth scraping her tender throat drove her absolutely wild. Her heart was thumping as he moved over her chest and sucked one of her sensitive nipples into his hot hungry mouth. She moaned as he tongued her pink little nub, then screeched in pain and surprise when he bit down!
She pulled away reflexively, but he pinned her in place. One hand grabbed her other breast and began to knead roughly, while he continued to nip and bite her nipple. Miranda bucked on the bed, gasping and moaning into his hand as the pain turned to scintillating ache. She grabbed his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging in as she hung on for dear life. Warren switched sides, groping her tender bitten breast, and sucking then biting the other nipple. Her head was spinning. The pleasurable pain spread over every curve, leaving her quivering with hot need. Shocked by a particularly hard bite, Miranda wrenched away from his hand and yelled-
“FUCK!”
Warren flinched, looking up at her, unable to hide the concern in his eyes. “Was that-“
“Fuck me, Warren!” Miranda begged, grabbing his cheeks and looking deep into his eyes. “Oh god oh fuck I need you inside me!”
He wrestled off his pants in a flash. She pulled up her skirt, leaving it bunched around her waist as she peeled off a sopping pair of panties. She reached for his perfect cock as Warren moved between her legs. He was rock hard already and felt so hot in her soft hands. Frantic to have him inside, Miranda coiled her long slender stems around his hips and pulled him forward. Warren was still tugging off his shirt and fell forward with a grunt. She guided him right into her soft wet cunt as he did. A moan slipped through her lips as the head slipped in.
Warren leaned up, looking down at her with an eager mix of lust and affection. Her delicate hands slid up his chest. He wasn’t an athlete, but she loved the feel of his smooth, firm build. Her legs tugged anxiously on his hips and she let out a pleading, urgent whimper.
Warren held back, grinning mischievously. He leaned down to kiss her. Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck returning the kiss furiously. Deeply. Desperately. Their lips locked, their tongues thrusting together with a heat that flushed her cheeks.
Warren’s cock shoved in and Miranda moaned into his mouth, arching up as lightning bolted through her body. His thick shaft glided through her pussy, familiar and tantalizing. She grabbed onto her husband, gasping a deep breath. He hugged her close and tight, and began rolling his hips, plunging deep. Warm waves of pleasure rolled through her as he pumped. Miranda leaned up, kissing his neck and sucking his earlobe just the way he liked. Warren moaned.
“Don’t go easy your little bitch now,” she whispered, her lips at his ear. “My husband’ll be home any minute…”
Big hands pushed her back against the mattress. Warren looked down, his features twisting into a snarl. “You want it that bad you little slut?”
She blinked, started to nod but he was already grabbing her legs. He folded her in half and slammed in deep! Miranda cried out.
He leaned over her, his weight holding her in place, his hips grinding against her ass. His hard cock plunged in and out of her wet pussy. She could feel each vein and ridge hitting every raw nerve, sparking erotic fireworks all through her body. Her eyelids fluttered as pleasant numbing tingles flooded her head. A pressure began building through her hips and stomach that left her panting. Each pump came a little quicker, a little harder, building momentum as well as her orgasm.
“Oh fuck! Fuck yes! Harder, baby, please!” Her voice was a breathy moan. She looked into his eyes pleadingly. “Fuck me like a dirty little slut!”
Warren grinned and leaned back, grabbing her by the wrists for added leverage. With a grunt of exertion, he pounded her pussy!
“Oh shit!” Miranda screamed as quick hard strokes sent white heat sizzling over every curve. Her legs stretched up over his shoulders, shaking from the electricity. His steel rod plowed in so deep, her entire body rocked with every thrust. Her perky tits were bouncing in rhythm to his bucking hips, her heart hammering between them. Miranda was screaming in pleasure, racing towards orgasm.
“Shit yeah,” Warren groaned, his forehead glistening with sweat. “Cum for me you little slut!”
Miranda squealed. “Say it again, baby, please!”
“Oh shit,” Warren moaned, shuddering as her hot wet cunt pulsated around his plunging member. “Cum for me, baby, cum like the good little slut you are!”
Miranda obeyed. All at once the pressure burst and a wave of orgasmic energy washed over every trembling curve. Her pussy clenched tight around his rock-hard dick. Warren couldn’t hold it in any longer and came too, filling her with a warm sticky flood. The sensation was like a second orgasm for Miranda, and she wiggled against him, milking every drop as her pussy gushed and convulsed around his throbbing manhood. Warren moaned and practically collapsed on top of her.
Miranda pulled him down, welcoming the weight as his body unwound. It was comforting and so warm. Her legs entwined with his and she hugged him tight. They were both breathing hard. Their panting gradually fell in sync. Her curvy body was still trembling with orgasmic aftershocks as she clung to her husband, stroking slim fingers through his damp hair.
“God, I love you,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck. “I love you so fucking much.”
“Love you too, bit-,” he began teasingly. “-err, I mean, babe.”
Miranda giggled, and slapped him playfully on the back. “Don’t get used to that…”
“Don’t worry,” he chuckled and rolled off to her side. He crawled away to flop down on a pillow.
Feeling weak, numb and tingly in her post orgasmic haze, Miranda struggled to strip off her twisted tank top, then shimmied out of her skirt. As soon as she was naked the air chilled her sweat slicked skin. Miranda quickly crawled to her husband, snuggling against his warm chest and pulling his arms tight around her.
They laid in blissful silence for a few long moments.
“That the kind of thing you had in mind?” he asked softly.
But she was already fast asleep.
Chapter 1 (seven years later)
It was a good night for business in Riverside. The wind came out of the west, picking up a chill as it blew over the Montgomery River, sweeping away the day’s heat and humidity. Cool nights like this were few and far between in the middle of a steamy Midwest summer. The johns were not letting it go to waste.
The three blocks of South Madison Ave. between 23rd and 26th were bustling. Both sides of the street were practically lined with scantily clad women, strutting, flirting and waving as the cars cruised by, most of them almost painfully slow.
Miranda watched it all from a rooftop overlooking the meat market. Whenever she came down here her mind drifted back to the years she’d spend working at the Kitty Galore club. Remembering the rush she’d gotten from being on stage, sometimes she even missed the excitement of performing. Less often did she miss being ogled and appraised by the customers, or judging her worth by the amount of bills tucked into her panties on any given night.
Sometimes a chill would inch up her spine as she wondered if she would have ended up on a street like this if it hadn’t been for Warren.
Two of the working girls below hooted at a passing car, drawing Miranda’s attention back to the unseasonably cool present. A long dark sedan slowed as it neared the corner of 24th street. A woman wearing a bright red miniskirt and fishnets started forward as it came to a stop, but only for a moment then it sped off when she got close. She cursed loudly, flipping the bird at the taillights. The car stopped on the next block to let in a much thicker whore.
Miranda crossed her arms and chuckled. She’d met these two, Holly and Felicia, while volunteering at the shelter, not that they would recognize her tonight.
A john approached the two women and said something to Holly, the one in the red skirt. She crossed her arms and said something to him that Miranda couldn’t hear, but she could tell from the body language there was attitude behind the words. The man seemed impatient, grabbed her by the arm and started to drag Holly away from the corner. Felicia started to follow, shouting, but Holly motioned for her to stay put.
Don’t like the looks of this, Miranda thought.
She lifted into the air and floated across the street.
Her outfit, a skintight, haltered leotard, was made of a material Warren had developed and called Nandex. It was composed of cutting-edge carbon nano-fibers and powered by an equally high-tech power pack in her belt. He had also figured out how to calibrate the fibers to do all sorts of things, including generating a magnetic field that allowed her to fly.
Swooping onto another rooftop, Miranda watched the man pulling Holly down an alley. There was no other traffic and no witnesses. She could only catch snippets of their conversation; the man seemed to grow more agitated, demanding a refund. After a few minutes of heated discussion, he grabbed Holly by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall.
“Enough of that!” Miranda snapped, stepping off the edge of the roof.
“Get the fuck off me!” Holly swore, shoving at the man.
He responded by rearing back and slapping the woman, knocking her to the ground.
Miranda landed gracefully right next to him. “Hey! Back off, asshole!”
“What the fuck?” he gasped, hopping back, his eyes going wide at the sight of her.
Miranda’s leotard was a striking electric blue, with white and purple stripes tracing the hourglass curves of her slim figure. The bottoms hugged her hips, showing off her long legs. A pair of high heeled boots, the same shade of blue and sporting some purple details, came up to her calves. Her arms were sheathed in matching elbow length gloves, and a domino mask concealed her identity. Finally, there was a high-tech belt around her waist, it was white with a round silver buckle.
“How dare you put your hands on her!” The superheroine placed her own hands on her hips and stared the man down. “This is your one chance to beat it, before I get really angry.”
“Who the fuck are you?” the man balked. He was a large man, bigger and bulkier than he’d looked from the rooftop.
“Oh snap!” Holly squeaked, looking up from the ground. “She that superchick!”
“Wait,” Miranda was a little surprised. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Get lost bitch,” the man said before Holly could reply. “Just look like another hooker to me.”
“Actually, I have business with the lady,” Miranda scowled behind her mask. “So, you can get lost, or I’ll lose you!”
He regarded her doubtfully but her glaring green-eyes didn’t waver. The man straightened and puffed out his chest a bit, then started towards her. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could the heroine lifted one hand. Her gloves were capable of generating shockwaves of magnetic force, and she unleashed one of these repulsor bursts right into the man’s broad chest.
He howled in surprise, launched out into the middle of the street where he landed with a painful grunt. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at the blue clad heroine, before leaving in a hurry.
Miranda paid him no mind, kneeling to help Holly back to her feet. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she replied, accepting the help.
“The fuck was that?” Felicia hollered, jogging awkwardly towards them. She was wearing a black sequined club dress and sky-high heels. “Holly, you a’ight?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she grumbled, straightening her miniskirt.
“What was that all about anyway?” Miranda asked.
“Oh, he just mad cuz he couldn’t get hard last time,” Holly explained.
“Who da fuck is you?” Felicia asked the blonde heroine.
“She that superchick they out here talking about!” Holly exclaimed.
“People are really talking about me?”
“Mm hmm,” Felicia groaned, seeming thoroughly unimpressed. “They out here sayin’ some uppity bitch runnin’ round in spandex tryna be the Scarlet Bird…”
“You mean ‘Dove’,” Holly corrected her.
“What, ever.”
“Well, I guess word gets around quick,” Miranda murmured, tugging self-consciously at her skintight uniform. “Although, I’m not really trying to be anybody…”
The Scarlet Dove was a superheroine who’d famously operated in Warden City, which was a couple hours north of Riverside. She had disappeared several months earlier after exposing a corrupt chief of police and defeating the supervillain known as Dominion during a live news broadcast. Of course, Miranda also could not deny she had been more than a little inspired by the woman’s heroics.
“I just want to help make Riverside a little safer.”
“Mm hmm, safer for who?” Felicia asked.
“Hey, superchick,” Holly interrupted. “What’chu call yourself?”
“Oh,” Miranda blinked. “Um, actually I haven’t really come up with…”
“I think you oughta be the Blue Bird!” the woman went on excitedly. “Or the sexy -what do you call them long neck ducks?”
“Long neck…?” Miranda stammered. “You mean swans?”
“Yeah! The Sexy Swan! Dat sounds hot.”
“I’ll keep those in mind,” Miranda chuckled. “But ladies, really, I need your help tonight.”
“You mean you ain’t gon’ bust us, superchick?” Felicia raised an eyebrow doubtfully.
“I’m not here to bust anyone,” Miranda said quickly. “Actually, I’m looking for a friend.”
“Friend?” Felicia balked. “What kinda friend you got down this way?”
“I’m looking for a girl named Paisley.”
The two women looked at each other, the color draining from their faces. Felicia shot her companion a pointed scowl, shaking her head nearly imperceptibly.
“We don’t know no Paisley,” Holly lied.
Miranda looked from one to the other and back, crossing her arms under her breasts. They’d come into the shelter with Paisley on more than one occasion. They were friendly then, and even though things could change quickly in the streets, Miranda got the feeling this was different.
“Are you sure?” she pressed. “It’s been a few weeks since I’ve heard from her and I’m worried she’s in trouble.”
“Ain’t nothin’ but trouble out here,” Felicia began.
Holly was looking away now, trying and failing to hide a guilty expression.
“Look, I know you guys know her,” Miranda said. “And I know you aren’t snitches, but can’t you tell me if she’s been around? Or maybe who might have seen her last?”
“The fuck is this?” barked a deep voice from behind them.
Miranda turned to find another man storming towards them. He was short and stocky, with a bald, squarish head and thick beard. He was wearing a baggy tee shirt and jeans, with clean work boots clomping up the street.
“Ain’t nuthin’ Crash, we just talkin’-” Holly began.
“This that superchick they out here-“ Felicia was adding.
“Shut up, hos!” the man barked, he looked at Miranda. “Who the fuck is you?”
“Me? I’m that superchick they out here talkin’ about,” she uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips in a no-nonsense stance. “Who are you talking to a group of ladies that way.”
“Ladies?” Crash scoffed, stepping right up to her. “I just see a couple hookers…” He glanced past her at the other two. “…And that bitch, Felicia.”
Miranda’s eyes narrowed behind her blue mask. Thanks to her heels she was a little taller than the man, but he was easily more than twice her weight. A lone butterfly twittered around her stomach.
“Whatever our professions,” Miranda said. “You should learn to treat women with a little more respect. Maybe I should teach you some.”
She spoke with enough confidence Crash backed up a step, even though a smirk flashed over his face.
“Aigh’t, ma’am,” his tone dripped with sarcasm. “The fuck you doin’ here?”
“I’m looking for a friend of mine, her name’s Paisley.”
His face shifted quickly from suspicion to anger, and he flashed a glance at Holly and Felicia. “What the fuck did you bitches tell her?”
“They wouldn’t tell me anything,” Miranda interjected. “But you seem like a man knows things, maybe you can.”
Crash eyed her more seriously now. “I don’t know shit.”
“Y’know, I believe that,” Miranda agreed quickly. “So how about we let the ladies get back to work…and you take me to see your boss.”
“My boss?” balked the thick man.
“Your boss,” she reiterated. “Shorty Sweets, right?”
“Who the fuck you think you are, bitch?”
“She da Blue Bird!” Holly chimed excitedly.
Miranda winced, holding up a hand. “That’s not-“
“Shut the fuck up, ho!” Crash shouted.
“Look, Crash,” Miranda said. “I’m not looking to bust anybody, but I didn’t come down here without doing my homework. I know you’re just a low rent thug, and I know who holds your lease.”
“Fine,” he spat the word. “You wanna see the boss, I’ll take you to the boss.” He looked past her to Holly and Felicia once more. “You fuckin’ bitches get back work! I’ll be back in twenty.”
He turned without another word, crossing the intersection and heading for an alley halfway up the next block. Miranda followed after him, hoping she hadn’t over played her hand. She’d heard the girls talk about a pimp named Sweets and his “punk-ass sidekick” Crash. But to be honest, she was still learning how to gather information on the streets.
They turned down the alley. It was dark, and the air was heavy with the stench from five or six dumpsters tucked against the walls. A little way in there was a doorway. Crash pulled it open and red light poured into the alley. He gestured for Miranda to enter. A second butterfly joined the one already fluttering around her tummy as she stepped past the thug.
Inside was shabby little bar. There were only two tables and one booth pushed way back in the corner. The actual bar looked like it had been built out of particle board and plywood. There was rap music playing from an iHome plugged in behind it.
There were only three people sitting at the booth. Two were girls, scantily clad and looking too young to be in any bar, much less one this sketchy. Between them was a man with a long face, and cornrowed red hair. He was wearing a leopard print vest, with a white long sleeve button-up. Several of the buttons were left open to show off a tattoo she couldn’t quite make out. When he looked up at her, his mouth twisted in confusion, showing off a row of gold teeth.
“Who da fuck is you?” he asked.
“This that superchick ‘at busted Johnny Fingers last week,” Crash said before she could respond.
Miranda glanced back at him, unable to keep the smirk from her pink lips. “Guess you do know some shit, after all.”
He shrugged and reached behind the bar for a beer.
“Oh shit,” the man in the booth whistled. “You the one what busted Fingers? I gotta be honest, I ain’t even believe that, you know Fingers be full o’ shit most the time.”
“I can only take a little credit,” Miranda stepped towards the booth, hands on her hips. “That idiot was all over the security camera and he set off the alarms…I just made sure he didn’t leave before the police got there.”
“That stupid mo’fucker,” he chuckled.
“And you must be Shorty Sweets,” she said. “You pick up these girls by promising them candy?”
“Candy?” he seemed annoyed. “Shit, it’s Suites, like the mo’fuckin’ penthouse, cuz that’s where I’m headed!”
“I told you that shit’s confusin’,” Crash said.
“Man, fuck you, you ol’ Dave-Mathews-Elias-Koteas-lovin’ mo’fucker!”
“Boys!” Miranda snapped. “I haven’t got all night, so whatever it is, Shorty, how about you send the jailbait home so the grownups can talk…”
One of the girls started to say something, but Suites shushed her and scowled up at Miranda.
“She’s lookin’ for Paisley,” Crash added.
“Y’all two head down to bed,” the pimp said, never taking his eyes off Miranda. “And get them asses naked, I’ll be in in a minute.”
When they hesitated, he barked at them to hurry up. They scurried through a door at the back of the room, flashing Miranda dirty looks the whole way.
“You gotta train ‘em young,” Suites said when they were gone. “Otherwise they wanna think for themselves and shit while they ‘posed to be workin’.”
“Oh yeah?” Miranda glared at the pimp. “Is that what happened to Paisley? She start thinking for herself?”
“I don’t know no Paisley.”
Miranda grabbed one of the tables and flung it across the room! It smashed into the door with enough force to startle Shorty Suites where he sat.
Tactile magnesis was one of the powers provided by her suit. It allowed her to lift and manipulate any metal object she could touch. In this case; to throw an old metal table further and harder than her normal physical strength would have allowed.
“Try again,” she said calmly.
“Damn, bitch is you crazy?” the pimp whined.
“You know, Fingers called me a bitch and he-“ She was interrupted by a loud THUNK!
Miranda fell forward onto the table in front of the pimp as pain ripped through her head and blurred her vision.
Behind her, Crash was holding his beer bottle like a club. He opened it and took a deep swig. “Crazy or not, bitch is plenty dumb!”
He was also drinking in the sight of her bent over that table. The cheeky cut of her blue leotard was teasing the curves of her tight round butt.
“Fuckin’ hot though…”
“Damn, bro,” Suites whistled. “You kill her?”
“Nah, I don’t think so…”
Miranda was barely clinging to consciousness as the room spun sickeningly around her. She felt big hands grabbing her ass but was too stunned to do more than squirm in protest. Crash groped and squeezed, tugging the leotard up so he could have full access to her peach-like cheeks. She tried to push up, murmuring a wordless objection, only to be shoved back down on the table. One of those big hands spanked her ass, stinging her firm flesh even though she was barely able to react.
“I thought this bitch was supposed to be super,” Suites laughed, sliding out of the booth.
“Her booty’s super tight,” Crash grunted and spanked her again.
“Stahp et,” Miranda gasped, turning over to get away from those big stinging hands. She clamored off the table, her legs wobbled and she stumbled right into Suites. He caught her easily, and she vaguely realized that at his full height, Shorty was probably more than a foot taller than her, even with heels on.
“You is a sexy fuckin’ slut,” he said, hooking a long arm under hers. His free hand immediately reached for her breast.
Miranda groaned in disgust as his gangly fingers closed around her firm bulb. She pushed against his chest, unable to muster any real strength. As she started to twist away, Suites slugged her in the stomach! The dazed blonde cried out as all the air exploded from her lungs. She doubled over, gasping for breath and he let her crumple to the floor.
“Where’s all that tough talk now, bitch?” the pimp taunted. “Get her up!”
Before she had recovered at all, Crash was grabbing her narrow shoulders and pulling Miranda back to her feet. She sagged against him, her long legs bowing as she gasped for breath. Her head was spinning. She couldn’t resist at all as the thug pulled both arms behind her back and trapped them with one of his own.
“Why you lookin’ for Paisley, huh?” Suites grabbed her by the chin, lifting her glassy eyes to his. “You think you gon’ save her? Clean her up, or some shit?”
“I just-“ Miranda jerked away from his hand, still struggling for breath. “I just want to make sure she’s safe…”
“Bitch, you ain’t even safe,” Suites laughed and grabbed her breasts with both hands.
Miranda groaned, humiliation rushing through her as the pimp began to molest her. Despite her disorientation, both sensitive bulbs erupted in anxious tingles. She could feel his long fingers squeezing and twisting her firm flesh, slipping over the slick material of her leotard. Her plump breasts felt small in his big hands as he squashed and jiggled them, getting more eager by the moment. Her nipples tightened, hardening against his palms and she had to swallow an embarrassing whimper.
“Get off me,” she demanded weakly. “Let me go!”
“What?” he chuckled, continuing to fondle her. “But I thought you came to rescue that bitch, huh? Better rescue yourself first…”
“Rescue? Where is she, you bastard?” Miranda gasped. “What did you do to her?”
“Me? What did I do?” Suites snapped indignantly.
He stepped back and backhanded her like he would one of his hoes! Miranda cried out as her head snapped painfully to the side. Trapped against Crash’s broad chest she had no defense. A wave of intimidation swept over the helpless heroine as he glared down at her.
“Bitch, I paid her, fed her, made sure johns don’t rough her up,” he grinned vilely. “Unless they paid extra.”
“You’re disgusting,” she whimpered. “Where is she?”
Suites glanced at Crash and shook his head. “Persistent ain’t she?”
“Bitch, don’t learn,” Crash tightened his grip and Miranda grunted in discomfort.
“You two scumbags ain’t got nothing to teach me,” she hissed. “I just want to know where she is.”
“Fuck, who knows,” Suites threw his hands up, looking all around. “I ain’t seen the bitch in weeks.”
“Whatever you did to her,” Miranda whimpered. “I’m gonna make you pay!”
“Make me pay, huh?” he said, his eyes slithering down her body. “Speaking o’ pay, y’know that bitch went missin’ still owing me money, you such a good friend and all, maybe I should make you work off her debt.” He stepped forward, reaching between her legs this time.
“Don’t even think about it!” Miranda groaned, struggling against Crash’s grip. He held her easily. Even if she wasn’t dazed and weak, she wouldn’t come close to matching his strength, and her tactile magnesis only worked on metal objects. She was trapped.
“Aw, c’mon I’d get a premium for your sexy ass,” Suites sneered, his long fingers sliding over the slick material covering her pussy.
Miranda’s green eyes widened in disgust as he began to rub. She wore a thong under the leotard (to prevent embarrassing camel-toe) but neither garment offered much protection as he pressed into her prim mound. Her hips trembled as unwanted tingles inched along her slit.
“Stop it,” Miranda screeched, her stomach twisting as he kneaded her soft cunt. “Get your hands off me!”
“But I gotta test the merchandise,” Suites’s golden grin stretched ear to ear. His other hand adjusted the growing hardon in his own pants. “Make sure your shit’s gourmet, y’know?” She twisted her hips but couldn’t get away from that violating hand.
Miranda thrashed frustratedly but Crash held her tightly. His free hand reached around to cup her breast. As he began to knead the firm bulb, her nipple achingly scraped and strained under the thin Nandex. She shuddered in revulsion, feeling him getting hard against her ass as he reached across to grope the other boob.
Suites’s strong fingers tugged aside her leotard and pushed under her panties. He didn’t waste time spreading her pussy lips wide open to stroke the silky flesh within. When he bumped her clit, lightning raced through her torso and Miranda couldn’t keep her eyelids from fluttering as she sucked in an unexpected gasp.
“You like that?” Crash murmured in her ear. “You fucken slut.” He was grinding his bulge against her ass.
Miranda wiggled back against him involuntarily as Suites worked her clit. Crash was flicking and pinching her nipples, now rock-hard and clearly visible standing up under the blue leotard. She grit her teeth to keep from squealing, even as scintillating heat crawled through her hips and over her slim curves. Her pussy was hot and wet and getting slicker by the minute. Shame burned through the hapless blonde as her body succumbed to the unwelcome stimulation.
“Whaddaya say, bro, think we can make any money off this whore?” the pimp laughed.
His rough thumb continued grinding against her sensitive clit, driving urgent tremors through her body. She felt his long middle finger slide though her wet folds and find her defenseless hole.
Can’t let him – oh no! No please! She shook her head frantically, pleadingly, feeling the prodding. If Suites noticed, he ignored her and pushed inside. Miranda stiffened, lifting up on tiptoes but unable to get away from the penetrating digit.
Feeling the finger sliding and pumping in her vagina, Miranda’s curvy hips began to twitch, matching the rhythm. Her mouth fell open, finally unable to hold back a sharp moan.
How can I – How can my body be enjoying this? She wondered shutting her eyes tightly, trying but unable to ignore the pleasurable rush of sensations being forced on her by the pimp. Can’t let him, gawd, I c-can’t cum for him…
“Oh yeah, man,” Crash replied. “Once she’s broken in, she’ll be a real earner…”
The thug adjusted his position slightly so he could slip his hand under her leotard. His palm felt rough and warm against her soft breast. Ice settled in her stomach. The feeling as his thick fingers found her nipples, teasing her flesh on flesh, sent shivers over her curvy figure.
Still, she noticed his grip had loosened. It was difficult to focus as the unwanted arousal nearly had control of her body, but as the men laughed and gloated, Miranda was finally able to squirm her arms into a better position.
“ENOUGH!” she screamed and activated a repulsor burst!
Crash was caught completely unaware. The force not only broke his grip but blew him backwards onto the floor.
Shorty Suites hopped back, his eyes wide.
Miranda whipped one hand forward, unleashing another burst that blasted the pimp backwards over the table and booth! She enjoyed his shrill shout of pain and confusion.
“The fuck…?” Crash groaned, getting clumsily to his feet.
“Don’t bother getting up,” Miranda hissed, throwing a vicious right hook.
Not only were her gloves made of the unique Nandex material, but the knuckles had been specially modified to amplify kinetic energy. Even in her weakened state, the force of the blow colliding with Crash’s face was enough to send him headlong into the bar. He grunted in pain and slumped to the floor. She turned back towards Suites, who was fumbling a pistol out of his pants.
Dat’s enough!” he said, pointing it at her.
“Take your best shot,” Miranda sneered, readjusting her thong and leotard, both of which were now damp and sticky.
“Th-think I won’t?”
Miranda scowled, resuming her confident hands-on-hips pose.
Suites snarled, aimed and pulled the trigger.
The magnetic field generated by Miranda’s costume also protected her against metal objects, even bullets. The pimp’s shot bounced off her chest, ricocheting into the floor. His jaw dropped. She threw out her hand, firing off another small repulsor burst that slammed his arm against the wall, knocking the gun out of his hand.
“Now, I want you to tell me what really happened to Paisely.”
“I don’t know, shit,” Suites stammered holding up his hands defensively. “Bitch got strung out with some mo’fucker way I hear it. Probably OD’ed in a gutter somewhere.”
He said it so casually it cut right through Miranda. Of course, she’d considered that possibility, but she didn’t want to believe it. She’d befriended Paisley at the Riverside City Food Pantry. Paisley had asked Miranda for help getting clean and getting out of the city. Addictions could be cruel to anyone, but Miranda’s gut told her something more was going on here.
“Who?” she demanded. “Where?”
“You think I know?” Suites said quickly. “If I did I’d be over there beating the brakes off dude and getting my bitch-“ Miranda’s eyes narrowed sharply. “-back.” He swallowed audibly, shrugged. “You know what I mean…”
“Paisley told me that a lot of working girls have been disappearing around Riverside?” Miranda said. “You gonna tell me you don’t know anything about that?”
Suites nodded a little too quickly. “I guess, some, yeah. C’mon though, bitches -err, women…you know they come and go out here.”
“And no one really cares cuz they’re just hookers anyway, right?”
Shorty Suites shrugged, started to nod but then shook his head, and shrugged again. “The fuck you want me to say to that…?”
“Well, guess what, I care!” she said, not really interested in his reply. “And I care how they get treated whether they’re going to come or go.”
“Cool!” Suites said quickly. “Me too. Shit. Whatever.”
“Not what I hear,” she said, taking a step closer, fists clenched. “But that’s gonna change isn’t it. I’m gonna start hearing about how Shorty Suites has changed, aren’t I? How he pays fair and treats his employees with dignity and respect, aren’t I?”
Behind her, Crash was getting to his feet again. He staggered towards the middle of the room. Miranda reached back, keeping her eyes on Suites. Another powerful repulsor burst blasted the bald thug across the room where he crashed into the wall. The pimp watched him slump to the floor, unconscious.
“…Aren’t I.”
“Fuck yeah,” Suites replied quickly. “Everybody gettin’ raises!”
Miranda frowned, and nodded grimly. She hated that anyone would let themselves get taken in by pimps like this, but she knew if she sent him to jail, or ran him out of town, some other scumbag would just take his place. Maybe she could make things a little better for his girls by putting the fear of…of…
Shit, I really need to pick a name, she thought.
“If I don’t hear things are changing around here,” she said flatly, heading for the door. “I’ll come back and change your name to Shorty Cellblocks, got me?”
Suites was still staring wide eyed at his snoring goon and the wall crumbling behind him. “Yeah, whatever you say.”
“Oh yeah,” Miranda paused, glancing over her shoulder in pure disgust. “Go in there and send those two children home. Next time I’m here, I’ll be checking IDs.”
“Yeah, for sho,” he mumbled. “Nothing but old bitches from now on! I mean women, ladies…” He stammered on but she was already gone.
Chapter 2
Miranda’s head was throbbing by the time she flew down into her own backyard. It was a big house in the kind of neighborhood where everybody had tall fences built for privacy. None of her neighbors were ever likely to notice her coming or going, even by air.
That was a dumb plan, she admonished herself as she crossed the deck to the screened-in area of her back porch. I probably have a concussion… She was feeling dizzy and stumbled a bit coming through the back door.
Luna Gatsby was in the kitchen, going through the fridge as usual. She was a diminutive brunette, with an easy smile and big brown eyes behind a bigger pair of glasses. She had a cute, chubby figure which she preferred to keep hidden under loose sweatshirts and comfortable jeans.
“Back already – shit…you okay?” she asked, noticing Miranda’s unsteady steps.
“Some goon clocked me with a beer bottle,” Miranda said, letting the brunette help her to a seat at the kitchen table. “But I’ll be alright.”
“How did that fucken happen?”
Miranda peeled off her blue domino mask, dropped it on the table and rubbed her aching temples. “I thought if I pretended to let them capture me, they’d talk more because I didn’t seem like a threat…”
“That was a stupid fucking plan.”
“Well, I didn’t count on them actually capturing me.”
“That’s because it was a stupid fucking plan,” Luna crossed her arms, looking at her like a disapproving sibling.
“It’s not as dramatic as all that,” Miranda sighed. “They just caught me off guard.” And molested me a bit, but you don’t need to know that… “As soon as my head cleared, I wiped the floor with them both.”
Luna huffed. “Did you get any information on what’s-her-name?”
“Paisley…and not really,” the blonde was taking off her blue and purple boots. “Suites said she hooked up with some guy and got strung out or something, but I don’t know if I believe that.”
“Yeah, of course not,” Luna muttered, rolling her big brown eyes. “What kind of hooker would do drugs with some guy?”
“Don’t be like that.” Miranda took off the belt and gloves and handed them to the brunette.
“Any damage tonight?” Luna asked, looking over the items.
“Nah,” Miranda sighed, slumping back in the chair. “In fact, the reinforced gloves worked great! I was half loopy and still knocked the shit out of that Crash dude with one punch.”
“Really!? Fucken sweet!” Luna gushed inspecting the gloves more closely. “You know tweaking the nano carbon microfibers to amplify the kinetic energy of your hand was tricky but the way it harnesses the force exerted by the magnetic field generated by…” The brunette trailed off noticing the tired, blank look Miranda was giving her.
“It was great, Luna.”
“Thanks,” she smiled proudly. “This nandex is pretty amazing stuff, so ridiculously fucking versatile! If we could just get our hands on…”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Miranda cut her off. “You know as well as I do this is all Warren got out with.”
Luna frowned, nodding slowly. “I’ll go start charging the belt.”
“Any luck with improving the charging time?”
“Hell no,” Luna said pausing at the door. “I’m not even sure I really understand how Warren designed these power cells.”
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” Miranda said.
“You got more faith than I do,” Luna balked, thrusting the belt forward. “This thing connects wirelessly to the rest of the suit, powers a bullet proof force field that lets you fly, fits around your skinny ass waist, weighs next to nothing and…”
“And I’ll never make any real headway if I can only patrol every few days.”
Luna arched an eyebrow. “You keep having stupid fucking plans and you’ll keep needing those days to recover. You know you look concussed, right?”
“I’m fine.”
Luna rolled her eyes again and headed into the office they used as a lab area in the next room, muttering under her breath the whole way. “Yeah fine my ass you crazy fucking psycho barbie doll Warren would fucken kill me if he knew I was helping you with this nutty goddam mission…”
Miranda ignored her as usual. Another wave of dizziness hit her when she stood up to get a glass of water.
“You gonna crash here tonight then?” Miranda called, moving towards the stairs the led up to her second-floor master bedroom and ensuite with jetted bathtub.
“Nah, if you’re in for the night already, I might go meet someone at this rave,” Luna replied.
Miranda turned immediately and trotted to the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing across her pink lips. “Are you going to meet that boy? What’s his name? Allen?”
“Alex,” Luna corrected her. “Only I never said he was a boy.”
“Oh my, well, have a good time,” Miranda replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “I’d offer to let you borrow my glowsticks but-“
“But you don’t have any, cuz you’re allergic to fun ever since…”
Miranda’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Yeah, guess I kinda am…”
The brunette winced guiltily. “I’m just kidding..?”
When Miranda looked back up, any twinkle had gone out of those green eyes. “Have a little extra fun for me then, kiss that girl like it’s your first time.”
“Who says it’s not?”
“Please.” Miranda smirked, waving a hand dismissively as she headed up the stairs.
“Make sure you don’t fall asleep for like an hour or whatever,” Luna called after her.
Once she was alone upstairs, Miranda stripped off the nandex leotard, and started a bath. Her headache was still getting worse, so she shut off the lights and lit a few candles. The steam from the water quickly fogged the mirror. As she slid into the tub, the hot water caressed every supple curve and when she kicked on the jets the tension eased nearly instantly throughout her body.
I’ll just have to do some non-superpowered leg work for the next couple days, she thought, reclining in the massive tub. Someone has to know where Paisley ended up…maybe some of the girls will be more willing to talk to Miranda than… Her mind began to wonder. …Than the Blue Swan? No. The Blue Bullet…yuck. Lady Azura. No no no… This is hard! But if I’m going to be a superheroine I have to come up with a name… Something catchy, and maybe just a little bit sexy…ugh, but what??
Before
(eight years earlier)
“You are such a bombshell,” Warren sighed, watching his new wife descend the sweeping staircase.
Miranda smiled coolly, trying not to blush just from the way he was looking at her. She failed.
She was wearing a shimmery, royal blue evening gown. The sheath fit of the dress clung to every subtle curve, accentuating her hourglass figure. It had a sweetheart neckline, edged in silver sequins and held up by matching beaded spaghetti straps. Her lustrous blonde hair was styled in an elegant braided updo, with a few loose curls, though not a single strand was out of place. Her makeup had been perfectly applied, giving her features a soft delicate look that highlighted her gorgeous green eyes, which were sparkling like emeralds as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“You look pretty fucken hot yourself, huz,” she said, drinking in the meticulous cut of his sleek gray tux.
Warren couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms. “How about we blow off this whole affair and head back upstairs for some-“
“Absolutely not!” Miranda squeaked. “I did not spend the last four hours being primped, pressed and polished just for you turn me into a piping hot mess after five minutes.”
“Oh wifey,” Warren licked his lips. “What I got in mind will take a lot more than five minutes.”
His big hands slid down and cupped her tight round butt. A little shiver crawled up her spine feeling him squeeze. Miranda giggled, slipping her arms around his neck and pressing her boobs against his chest.
“Well then it’ll be worth waiting for I assume…” She kissed him then, quick but intently, before pulling away. “Besides, your aunt Sophia will hate me if we miss another one of her galas.”
“She’s going to hate you when you show up looking this much better than her anyway,” Warren said.
Miranda was already at the mirror near the front door, making sure their kiss hadn’t marred her makeup. “Well, at least she can never admit to that reason.”
“I think you may fit in with my family better than I do.”
“Just because I grew up poor,” Miranda began, turning to her husband and dramatically cocking her hips. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be as petty as any wealthy heiress or spoiled debutante.”
They both laughed. Outside a long black limo pulled smoothly and silently up to the front of the house. Aunt Sophia and Uncle Monty insisted on sending limos for any family attending their elegant soirees.
“Limo’s here,” Warren crossed the foyer to open the door.
“I may never understand why we can’t just drive ourselves,” she sighed, then flashed a devilish grin. “But riding in limos is one of those things I may just never get tired of!”
Warren could barely resist her infectious smile. “Well, let’s not keep the driver waiting.”
Miranda took his hand, entwining their fingers tightly and pulling him out the door. “You know, huz,” she purred over her smooth, bare shoulder. “This dress is so perfectly fitted, I couldn’t even wear any panties with it…” She added an extra little sashay to her next several steps.
“Good god, woman,” Warren groaned, mesmerized by the tantalizing sway of her perfect ass.
He had the driver take the long way through Warden City’s downtown area. He knew his wife loved seeing the city lit up at night. He loved watching her stare out the windows, clutching a glass of champagne. Tonight there was something different in her eyes, and she was chewing her bottom lip.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, laying a hand on her knee.
Miranda turned to him wearing her fake smile. “Nothing.”
Warren arched an eyebrow. “Babe…”
She looked down. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read me like that…like I’m an open book.”
“Guess I’ve just spent enough time staring at you that I’ve learned every single tiny quirk and gesture and muscle twitch on that beautiful face.” He reached up to caress her chin, and she smiled bashfully. “Now tell me, what’s on your mind.”
She sighed and drained her champagne. “I know what I said back at the house, but I am so out of place at these things!”
“You kidding? You’re just as -hell- more gorgeous than any-“
“That’s not what I mean,” she said, turning to lock eyes with him. “Everyone else at these parties is so sophisticated and classy, heiresses and debutantes and CEOs and… I mean there’s actual royalty at some of these things!”
“And most of them aren’t worth the paper the money-with-their-faces is printed on,” he said with a groan.
“And then there’s me, some white trash stripper from Capital City…”
“Hey!” Warren snapped, cutting her off with an angry glare. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife that way!”
Miranda sighed, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Are you ashamed of where you come from?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Not usually, but…”
“You have more class in your little finger than most of those people have in their entire bank accounts,” he said. “Us wealthy elite just have to act sophisticated because, you know, money can’t buy a personality.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I,” he flashed a grin. “Babe, you are smarter, funnier, more grounded, and miles more capable than probably any of them. Half the people at these parties would get lost in their own mansions and starve to death in a week if it wasn’t for their house staff.”
“House staff,” she murmured, looking back out the window. “You know growing up, my family didn’t make as much as your servants do.”
“You want serious?” Warren took her hand, drawing her attention back to him. “I love you because you don’t fit in with them.” He locked her pretty emerald gaze. “I fell for you because you have substance, and character, and when you look at me, I don’t see you calculating our combined net worth.”
Miranda resisted the urge to smile.
“And if you want to stop this limo right now,” he went on. “And hop a bus back to Capital City, I won’t even hesitate to follow you.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”
“Damn straight,” he said, wrapping an arm tightly around her. “You can go back to the Kitty Galore and I’ll get a job at Hasselhoff Electric, we’ll buy a cute little trailer and-“
“Yeah right,” she said. “You’d be running that place in a week, and we’d be rich all over again.”
“Yeah, probably, but…Capital City rich,” Utter disdain crept into his voice.
“Alright, alright,” she elbowed him playfully. “Pour me some more champagne, and I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself. Who knows, maybe tonight will be the night I finally dazzle your family with all my substance and character.”
“I’d say we could turn around still,” Warren took the bottle out of the chiller and filled her glass. “But I wouldn’t want your four hours of preparation to go to waste…”
Miranda shot him a sly smile. “Or, maybe I just want you to spend the night watching me and know that you’re thinking about what’s under this exquisitely expensive dress…or rather, what’s not under it.”
Chapter 3 (eight years and one day later)
“Miss Randi, you know you way too damn hawt for this place, when you gonna let me put you to work?”
“Chocolate, I keep telling you to stop saying things like that,” Miranda smirked, arching one pristine blonde eyebrow. “Some of these guys are going to take you seriously.”
It was dinner time at the Riverside City Food Pantry and the room was packed with the city’s less fortunate. As the two women moved away from the serving line, more than a few gazes lingered after them.
Even though Miranda tried to dress down, her shapely breasts filled out the blue volunteer tee shirt, stretching the RCFP logo across them. Similarly, it was tough to hide her cute hourglass figure when even a pair of simple black leggings seemed only to accentuate her statuesque legs and pert backside. Even pulling her hair back in a neat blonde ponytail only made her delicate features more prominent and striking.
“And I keep tellin’ you, I am serious.” Chocolate said boisterously.
She had dark skin and black hair that was rolled into tight braids. Her voluptuous figure was sheathed in a red mini-dress, that was probably a size and a half too small.
“Not that we’d be messin’ with any of these broke-ass fools anyway-”
“Hey, be nice,” Miranda cut her off quickly, sternly. “We can joke around but don’t be disrespectful.”
The other woman’s eyes immediately dropped to the tray clutched in her hands. “You know I ain’t mean nothin’ by it,” her tone became defensive quickly. “They do too, I just gave Stutterin’ Bob bus fare last week!”
“Yeah, I know, but this is a safe place for everyone,” the blonde smiled and slung her arm across Chocolate’s shoulders. “That’s why they come here…That’s why you come here, so respect it.”
“Yeah, you right,” she sulked. Then to the room she spoke loudly: “Sorry y’all, if you can’t afford miss Randi, we’ll cut y’all a deal.” Chocolate cracked up laughing.
“Not what I meant.” Miranda rolled her green eyes and steered the woman towards an empty table. “But hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’ve seen Paisley lately? She hasn’t been here in a couple weeks.”
Chocolate’s laughter stopped abruptly, she sat down at the table. “Nah, I ain’t heard from her in a minute.”
“I thought you two were tight?”
“I dunno,” the woman focused on her plate, scooping a gritty spoonful of instant mashed potatoes into her mouth. “We were but you know how it is in the streets, girls come an’ go.”
“So I’ve been told,” Miranda lowered her voice. “And I hear a lot of girls have been going lately.”
A shrug. “Maybe.”
“There a reason for that?”
“Just the way it is,” Chocolate looked at her, a dark cloud forming over her expression. “Sometimes they get into shit, leave town, sometimes bitches get mixed up with the wrong motherfucker and get disappeared, it’s wild out here.”
The blonde reached out, gripping the other woman’s wrist gently. “Who’s disappearing girls in Riverside, Chocolate?”
“I don’t know why you always worrying your pretty blonde head over this shit…”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be so wild out there if more heads were worried over it.”
The dark-skinned girl looked at Miranda’s hand uncertainly, then pulled away and took another bite of potatoes. “You gonna hook up my box?”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yeah, you cool, Randi,” Chocolate grinned. “Alright, look I don’t know shit really, but Paisley been working for junk more than for cash lately, heard she hooked up with a slanger on the north end, some punk ass named Baker. I ain’t seen her since.”
“You know where he lives?”
“Why?”
Miranda stared at her evenly. “Do you?”
“Maybe.”
“Look, I was trying to help Paisley get into a treatment program when she disappeared,” Miranda said. “I know I can’t make her go, I just… I just want to tell her she’s still welcome here regardless.”
Chocolate looked down again, chewing her bottom lip. “Even if I told you it’s not like you can just go there, it ain’t safe that side of town.”
Miranda feigned offense. “Girl, I grew up on the south side of Capital City, ain’t nothing going on in Riverside I ain’t seen before.”
“That don’t make it safe to go there,” Chocolate grunted. She looked over the pretty blonde appraisingly. “If I do tell you I need some of them good frozen shits, hot pockets or bagel bites or something.”
Miranda smirked. “I think that can be arranged.” She got up to go prepare the woman’s care package. “You need condoms again?”
“Girl, you know I do, many as you can gimme.”
A short hallway led from the dining area to the pantry’s storeroom. It was a large warehouse lined with steel shelving, stacked high with cans and boxes of non-perishables. There was a large industrial size cooler at the back. The care packages, which the volunteers had spent the afternoon preparing, were stacked on tables in the middle for easy grab-and-go during the dinner rush.
Miranda grabbed several canisters of powdered baby formula, and some diapers to add to the box. She knew that Chocolate had a sister at home, who refused to come in for help even though she had a new baby. Then a gallon of milk, a rare box of name-brand Coco Puffs, and finally the “good frozen shit” from out of the freezer: pizza rolls, bagel bites and a few microwave burritos. Normally frozen foods didn’t go into the care packages in case the recipient’s power was off or didn’t have a fridge at all.
“Randi, huh?”
Miranda nearly jumped out of her skin as she came out of the cooler, dropping the food she’d collected. “Jesus…”
There was a man leaning casually in the doorway of the storeroom. He was wearing an immaculately tailored suit, that was such a dark blue it seemed to absorb the light around him. His hair was a deep chestnut brown, styled short and meticulously, not a single hair out of place. His dark eyes were so intense, they seemed to pierce right through her. The features of his lean face were sharp, and entirely too familiar, instantly twisting Miranda’s stomach into a knot.
“Donovan,” she said flatly. “What are you doing here?”
“Randi,” he chewed the word, cocking his head and rubbing his chin. “Think I like it, reminds me of when you used to call yourself Candy…I forget though, was that with an ‘i’ or a ‘y’?”
“Oh, actually I spelled it with a go fuck yourself.” She bent down to pick up the frozen foods.
Donovan chuckled. “Now that’s the girl I remember.”
Miranda refused to look at him as she returned to stuffing the care package. “What is this, the one time a year you descend from on high to mingle with us commoners? Shouldn’t you have a camera crew with you for that?”
“Ha! I hardly think you count as a ‘commoner’,” he smirked. “Or have you forgotten that I know exactly how much you got in the settlement?”
“Settlement?” Miranda hissed immediately. “Settlement!? You tried to have me expunged from my husband’s will!”
“Not me,” Donovan said quickly. “That was…”
“It was me,” she went on. “Versus my whole damn supposed-family and you fucking lost! It wasn’t a settlement, you disrespectful piece-of-“
“Hold on!” He held up a hand, stopping her tirade. “Not what I meant… Sorry, I thought I could joke around a bit since we used to be close.”
“Operative word: used to be.”
“That’s three words.”
Miranda growled wordlessly and grabbed two boxes of donated condoms, along with a big handful of loosies from the freebie bowl. She picked up the care package and started towards the door.
“Get out of my way.”
Donovan’s arm stretched across the door, blocking her path. “Miranda, please, five minutes.”
“No,” she ducked under his arm.
Donovan’s expensive shoes clacked noisily on the cheap tile as he followed after her. “I’m sure you’ve heard about what went down in Warden City a few months back?”
“You mean when the Scarlet Dove showed everyone what a piece of shit the golden boy really was?” she replied. “Nah, haven’t heard anything about it.”
“It wasn’t just Pierce,” Donovan said. “The entire company took a huge hit, you know how they say there’s no such thing as bad publicity…well, turns out there is.”
“You mean like funding a corrupt mayor whose hobbies include moonlighting as a super villain? Imagine that…”
“Chief of police actually, and well, whatever Pierce was into we had no idea-“
Miranda stopped, spinning on Donovan so sharply he hopped back in surprise. “The newspapers might fall for that shit but I don’t,” she chuckled caustically. “We both know Pierce is a total idiot…He probably only had his position so he could take the fall when some of your family’s secrets inevitably came out.”
Donovan nodded reflexively, lifting his hand to cover a grin he couldn’t suppress. “Remember when we convinced him the Onion was a legitimate news source? He printed out one of their articles and brought it into that board meeting like a week later.”
“That was a long a time ago.” The slightest smile tugged wistfully at Miranda’s pink lips. “Back when I thought you were different from the rest of them…like Warren was.” A lump formed in her throat, she swallowed it.
“I’m not Warren but I’m not the rest of my family either,” he said. “And I do want to make things right with you.”
“You can’t.” Miranda turned, shouldering through the door back into the dining room.
“At least hear me out,” Donovan said, following after her.
The entire soup kitchen went quiet when the pair came through the door. For once every eye fell on the impeccably dressed Donovan, instead of checking out the gorgeous blonde. Miranda ignored the reaction, heading straight back to the table where Chocolate was waiting.
“Oh uhh…Good evening everybody,” Donovan said, waving awkwardly.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Miranda said, dropping the box in front of Chocolate.
“No problem,” the dark-skinned woman replied. “Looks like you were busy…”
“No no,” she replied quickly. “Not busy, just inconvenienced.”
“Evening ma’am,” Donovan said, extending his hand.
Chocolate shook it, murmuring to Miranda over her shoulder. “Girl, he fine…”
“Don’t.”
“So, Miranda, please listen,” Donovan said. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right-”
“Oooo girl,” Chocolate said. “A man who look like that and knows when you right…mm mm…”
“So I put some more formula and diapers in here for your sister,” Miranda went on. “I gave you what I could but we’re short on diapers, we’ll have more if you come back later this week.”
Chocolate’s eyes flicked from Miranda to Donovan and back. “O-okay, thanks.”
“And regardless of who’s secrets they are,” Donovan said to Miranda’s back. “I’m the one who’s trying to clean up that mess, which got me thinking… that it was time to clean up the mess with you too, past time.”
“You need anything else today, Chocolate?”
“I don’t think so…?”
“Anyway, I’ll be in town a week or so, overseeing the rebranding of the Riverside Summit,” Donovan concluded. “I hope you’ll consider just hearing me out, we were friends once, Miranda, family…I miss Warren too and-“
Miranda spun on him, tears instantly flooding her green eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He swallowed, meeting her gaze. “…and I miss you. I do.”
She stared at him wordlessly. A single hot tear rolled down her cheek.
Donovan backed away without breaking eye contact. Finally, he turned and went back through the door which led to the storeroom. His limo would be waiting out back, and Miranda glared after him long after the door had shut.
Chocolate put a hand on her shoulder. “Now that’s the kinda client you need to be pullin’…we’ll make enough money to buy this whole town in a week!”
Miranda let out a dry mirthless chuckle. “You have no idea.”
“Who was that anyway?”
“Donovan Ashton,” Miranda growled. “My brother-in-law.”
gasp (chills) To Be Continued…
Author’s Note:
Oh my gosh, guys, did you like it? Did you love it? Are you dying for to find out what happens next? Well, guess what… You don’t have to wait! The entire 18 chapter story Bombshell: Riverside Origins is available right now! You can find it on Smashwords for just $3.95.
The Bombshell e-book not only contains Miranda’s first sexy misadventure, but also features an exclusive 3 chapter Villain Ending, which… well, I’ll let your wicked little imagination fill in the blanks on that.
So heya Besties, I am so excited to be back at what I really love doing. The Dangerotic blog is fun but storytelling, sexy dangerous storytelling is where my heart and my art live.
So to be honest, I feel a little guilty about selling it.
I never want my writing to be about making cash. My experience is that money tends to ruin the things it touches, especially where artistic vision is concerned. So Miranda’s story will continue to be released on the Dangerotic blog for free. Because I don’t want any of my Besties to miss out on the pulse pounding peril.
So if you buy the Bomshell E-book, hopefully it’s because I told such an exciting story, you just can’t wait to see what happens next!
Or because you’re one of those particularly wicked Besties who can’t pass up that bonus Villain Ending…
Or because you want to support the hard work I put into these heroine-in-peril stories, and share my dream of one day making it a full time job for me to provide you with even more scintillating captures and humiliating defeats!
In any case, THANK YOU THANK YOU in advance for you continued support.
Well, Besties, that’s all I’ve got for today. Please join me in the comments, I would love to discuss with you what happened in this beginning installment of Bomshell’s saga, and/or hear your predictions on what could happen next.
I’ll be back eventually with a 2021 New Year Keyboard & Coffee update, and of course, lots more Bombshell coming soon!
But until then…
Take Care, Talk Soon.
Your bff, L J