Here is it is Besties, the thrilling conclusion to Miranda’s very first adventure! I can’t believe I left you guys hanging for so long on such a cliffhanger. What will become of poor Miranda after having succumbed to chloroform in the clutches of the pimps Shorty Suites and Crash?? I know it’s taken a while, but finally it’s here. That is of course unless you purchased the ebook, in which case thank you thank you!
And if you haven’t, even though the full story is now available right here on the Dangerotic blog, the alternate Villain Ending is exclusive to the ebook. So if you’re one my particularly villainous readers, you might want to check that out over on Smashwords.
One other thing before we get started. My next article on the blog will be a sort of personal review / look back / Q&A for Bombshell: Riverside Origins. So if you have any questions or topics you’d like me to cover, you can drop them in the comments, tweet me @dangerotica or email you bff Lady Jane. I can’t wait to hear from you!
But for now…let’s begin!
Chapter 11
Darkness enveloped Miranda. Even before she regained consciousness, she already felt dizzy and disoriented. Pain was the first thing she became fully aware of; a sharp ache piercing from one temple to the other. Then, through the darkness, somewhere not far away she could hear men talking. The voices were dull and muffled, and even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying, they triggered instant fear.
Miranda forced her eyes to open. She was lying on a coarse dirty carpet, in the middle of a sparsely decorated room. There was a TV hanging on the wall, and a red sectional sofa behind her. A coffee table was pushed against the wall, cluttered with beer cans and ashtrays. The stale stench of cigarettes and marijuana stained the air.
Oh gawd, this must be Suites’s place… The memory of it all came back in a painful rush. The hallway. Crash’s heavy fist. The metallic tang of chloroform. I have to get out of here before they come back!
A sharp pain flashed through Miranda’s side as she tried to get up, then dull aches rippled through her body. She couldn’t move. Both arms were stuck – no – bound behind her back. Miranda could feel the rope encircling her wrists. She shifted, pulling urgently but they were knotted too tight. Her legs had been bound as well, crossed at the ankles and lashed together. She kicked and squirmed, as ice settled in the pit of her stomach.
No no no! They tied me up!? Her chest tightened, panic edged into her mind but she pushed it back. Okay just calm down, have to think clearly if I’m going to escape…take a breath…
When she tried to draw in that calming breath, it was hampered by a rubber ball wedged between her teeth. Instinctively she tried to spit it out, but thick straps held it in place. They looped around her cheeks to fasten at the back of her neck, the tension spreading her jaw. The taste of rubber weakened her resolve and a panicked groan died against the gag.
Her powers were based on magnetism and so without any metal components to the binding, she was just a normal woman helpless against these normal ropes.
She couldn’t help but think of the girls she already rescued, seeing them shackled and gagged and terrified. Just like me… Tears welled in her own green eyes. Now I’m the captive…oh gawd how could I let them capture me? She writhed helplessly in the bonds. This is probably even the same gag? But who’s going to come rescue me when I’m supposed to be the heroine!
“You hear something?” One of the men asked in the kitchen.
“Sounds like the superbitch is awake.”
Their footsteps thumped loudly, coming closer. Each one sent a rush of fear through Miranda. She struggled to a seated position as Crash and Shorty Suites came into the room. Baker hung back, hesitating at the doorway as if he were afraid to come in.
“She’s even sexier all tied up,” Crash said, his eyes slithering over her fettered body.
“Fuck yeah,” Suites was moving behind her. “You know your shit with these ropes, Baker-man, where’d you pick that up?”
“Warden City,” he mumbled.
The two men circled her like vultures. Miranda looked from one to the other, her fear growing every moment. They loomed over her, leering. She tried to scoot away but her back hit the couch almost immediately. Nowhere else to go. Her heart thumped painfully, and she couldn’t even swallow the lump forming in her throat.
“Ain’t it cute how she’s still tryna escape?” Crash chuckled.
“Don’t you know, man,” Suites replied. “Superbitches don’t never give up!”
They both laughed and the sound tied Miranda’s stomach into a knot. The captive heroine continued squirming, tugging at the ropes looped around her wrists. They were so tight. The cold in her stomach spread slowly up her spine as she was forced to accept there was no slack nor give for her to take advantage of.
Crash squatted down to look Miranda in the face. His grin made her feel small. Despite the sting of welling tears, she did her best to glare at the thug.
“Whadaya think Hammer will give us for this one?” Suites asked.
Miranda scowled, mumbling a few obscenities into the ballgag.
“Oh, that’s right, bitch,” the pimp grinned. “We selling your fine ass.” He looked at Crash. “Well, wha’chu think?”
“I dunno,” he replied, reaching down to slide his big hands along her bare legs.
Miranda recoiled from his touch. With her ankles lashed together, she couldn’t even kick him off. She looked away, blinking back frustrated tears and chewing her gag as his rough fingers squeezed and teased her smooth thighs.
“Man, I know this is your deal,” Suites went on. “But this a legit superbitch, so I’m thinkin’ we better make bank-”
“I dunno, bro, she ain’t even that legit,” Crash said, turning to look at the pimp. “Ain’t really done nothing but catch dumb-as-hell Johnny Fingers. Hammer ain’t paying heroine prices for that.”
Miranda was looking around the room, desperate for a way to escape. She glanced up at Baker, still lurking in the kitchen. He looked away as soon as their eyes met.
“Well shit, man,” Suites groaned. “I mean she’s still a hot ass blonde white bitch, that oughta get us some milk money at least.”
“Well, you right about that,” Crash said, turning back to slide his thumbs against her hip creases. “She’s a grade A piece of meat, that’s for sure.” He leaned forward, so close she could feel his breath. “What do you think you’re worth?”
Miranda shrank back, cheeks flushed, her expression a mix of fear and disgust at having to listen to them appraise her for sale. His hands slid up her hourglass curves, sending chills over her skin. Her heart beat faster, feeling his fingers crawling and tickling like spider legs.
“Maybe we oughta test the merch,” he said, cupping her breasts.
Miranda squealed indignantly and tried to pull away. He pressed her against the couch, squeezing her plump melons tightly. Revulsion twisted her stomach feeling his firm grip.
Get your hands off me! She thought, whimpering under her gag. She bucked frantically but he held her in place.Miranda slumped dejectedly realizing she had no way to resist his groping. This can’t be happening…
Crash leered into her face, kneading her firm tits over the Nandex. Nervous tingles rippled through her chest. Miranda tried to ignore the sensation but couldn’t keep her nipples from responding to the friction. They stood up under the thin blue material and Crash pinched the traitorous buds, rolling them between thumb and forefinger until a noticeable tremor crawled through her torso.
This is so humiliating, she thought, shifting her shoulders to pull futilely against the ropes binding her wrists. Miranda groaned in frustration and a trickle of drool seeped between her lips and the ballgag. She chewed the rubber, her cheeks flushing bright red. There has to be a way to escape…think Miranda, think, think, think!
Crash didn’t give her the chance. Reaching behind her neck, he found the clasp and began unzipping her leotard. Miranda could only whine in protest he peeled the clingy material over her shoulders. Humiliation washed over the captive heroine as he exposed her full round breasts and their petite rosy nipples.
Shorty Suites let out a low whistle.
Miranda’s naked tits fit perfectly into Crash’s big hands. He clutched tight, rough palms prickling over her soft flesh as he began fondling the supple bulbs eagerly. She bit down on the rubber ball filling her mouth as warmth rushed through her chest. Her stiff nipples flicked and tingled between his fingers, until he seized both sensitive nubs and twisted them harshly, wringing a whimper from the captive woman.
Finally, warm tears began spilling down her cheeks. Oh gawd, get your hands off me! She thought helplessly.
Crash groaned, lips twisting lewdly as he continued molesting her.
Miranda couldn’t even bring herself to meet his gaze. She’d never felt so intimidated, so helpless. Her head drooped, she stopped struggling and sniveled behind her gag.
“Aight, hold up,” Suites cut in, pushing his cohort out of the way. “My turn!”
Crash grunted disappointedly but moved aside.
Miranda couldn’t even move as the men traded places. The humiliation of being passed off and shared like a toy burned through her. Straddling her already bound legs, the pimp grabbed a thick handful of blonde hair. He jerked her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. The captive hissed around her gag as pain rippled over her scalp and spindly fingers seized her plump breast.
“Damn, these is perfect,” he hummed appreciatively. “They even real?”
Miranda grunted her disgust, twisting in his clutches as he kneaded her firm flesh. Then Suites slapped her breast. She jumped and yelped as pain flashed through the sensitive bulb.
“Yup! Silicon don’t jiggle like that!” He laughed and slapped her again!
Miranda squirmed between his legs as the sting ripped through her chest. She shouted incoherently, drool sputtering around the gag. Pinned under his weight, she couldn’t move, couldn’t resist in anyway as he returned to groping her aching breast. His grip tightened in her hair as Suites squeezed and squashed her tender tit. He seemed to be savoring the frustrated tears rolling over her flushed cheeks.
“You awful quiet over there, Baker-man,” Crash said, not far away. “Wha’chu think, you wanna turn?”
“Ah, shit, I dunno,” the dealer replied dumbly.
“You sure?” Suites asked. “Half price, since you helped nab the bitch,” he added, untangling from her hair to molest her with both hands.
The captive heroine slumped back against the couch, letting the pimp have his way. She glanced plaintively at Baker for just a moment before Suites flicked her nipples so sharply she winced and whimpered. Miranda looked away quickly, shaking blonde locks over her face to hide her humiliation and tears.
“You know, that’s givin’ me a idea though,” Suites went on, squeezing Miranda’s boobs so harshly she squirmed and whined beneath him. “Maybe we keep this little bitch?”
“What’chu mean?” Crash asked.
“If Hammer ain’t gonna pay for superheroine prices,” Suites explained. “Maybe we should just pimp her out ourselves.”
Miranda jerked reflexively, the tightness of her bonds quickly reminding her that she was under their power, seemingly with no way out. She let out a gagged sob. Oh gawd, no…
“I already called that crazy fuckin’ Russian though,” Crash protested.
Despite her current predicament, Miranda made a mental note: Russian.
“So?” Suites pulled his hands away from her naked chest and looked back at his partner in crime. “We call him back, tell ‘im the bitch escaped. He thinks we’re idiots anyway, so he won’t be surprised.” His eyes crept back, crawling over her as his hands rubbed together hungrily. “Then we put her to work.”
Panic rushed through Miranda. No, please no! I came to save those other girls, not to end up being sold in their place… Even as tears continued spilling from her beautiful green eyes, an image of the girls from before flashed through her mind, and then one of Paisley – Miranda grabbed onto that. I can’t give up! Not for myself, not for any other girls who are counting on me!
The pimp’s thumbs slid over her nipples, sending chills through Miranda and bringing her attention back to him. Her tearful green eyes peered at him through a curtain of blonde tresses as he cupped her breasts again.
“Whachu think?” he hissed, jiggling roughly before slapping one, then the other.
Miranda squealed in pain, bucking under him and whipping her blonde hair back and forth. She was utterly helpless as Shorty Suites laughed and did it again. The anguish was still melting through her chest and shoulders when he grabbed her by the chin.
“You want us to sell to you to that crazy fuckin’ Russian? Or you wanna work for me?”
Miranda looked up at him, rage and defiance flashing behind the brimming tears.
“Oh, still got some fight in ya?” he sneered right in her face. “That’s hot.”
It wasn’t so hot a moment later when Miranda snapped her head forward, slamming the hardest part of her skull into the bridge of his nose! Shorty Suites recoiled, snarling in pain.
“Oh shit!” Baker snorted.
She felt the pimp’s weight lift off her legs as he scrambled back. She took in a deep breath and lunged away from the couch. Her bonds, cinched and knotted tight around her appendages, immediately stole any hope or relief. She pitched onto the floor with a defeated groan. There was no way for her to capitalize on the momentary freedom.
“Ha! Dumbass,” Crash laughed at Suites.
“Fuck you!” he snapped, clutching his face. “Fuck her! Shit…”
Miranda glanced up, letting herself at least enjoy the sight of blood oozing from his nostrils. He glowered down at her bruises already spreading under his eyes, and she smirked, more or less, around her ballgag.
“Think this’s funny, you fucking cunt?” he snarled and kicked her in the ribs.
Pain roared through her bound body. All the breath exploded from her lungs as Miranda screamed. She curled into a fetal position gasping desperately and feeling like she was choking on the red rubber ball strapped into her mouth.
Crash said something to Suites who was stammering angrily but Miranda couldn’t make out the words. Her head was spinning, throbbing with pain as she struggled to regain her bearings.
“…up to the bar and put some ice on it,” Crash was saying. “Quit being such a puss.”
Suites turned and stomped out of the apartment.
Miranda was just catching her breath when Crash reached down and lifted her off the floor. She felt like a plaything, a light, insubstantial toy as the thug dragged her to the big red chair and shoved her over its back. The worn-down cushions let the wood frame dig into her hips. She slouched, face down with her round little ass in the air.
“I’ll admit that was funny as hell,” Crash said, letting his hands caress down the back of her bare thighs. “But we still gon’ have to take some of that fight out of you…”
Miranda groaned behind her gag, unable to move away from the unwelcome touch. He cupped her peach-like ass and squeezed, sending an anxious charge over her skin.
He grunted approvingly. “I’m a turn this tight little ass bright red.”
Miranda squirmed as his fingers pushed under the bottoms of her leotard, tugging them up in a wedgie and exposing her pert, round cheeks.
“Oh, look at that sexy ass,” Crash groaned. “Wiggle it for me.”
Miranda grunted her wordless refusal.
His hand whipped across one side of her exposed booty! She jumped against the back of the chair, yelping into the gag.
“That’s fine, I’ll make it wiggle myself.” He laughed and spanked her again, harder. Then the other hand slapped the opposite cheek.
Miranda bit down on the gag, trying to brace herself. The thug’s big hands whipped her again, back and forth, making her ass bounce and jiggle. Heat flushed through her stinging cheeks. An excited charge, which she wanted to ignore, rushed through her chest. Her heart thumped a little faster, the pain mingling with the humiliation of being spanked like an impudent child.
“Ready to wiggle for me?”
Miranda shut her eyes, immediately wagging her cute little butt back and forth. Just do it, she swallowed against the embarrassment. He’s not going to stop and I may need the will power for more important things…
Crash grinned seeing her compliance, as well as the pink handprints marring her butt cheeks. Miranda winced as he tugged her wedgie a little tighter, exposing the wispy wings of the tramp stamp scrawled across her low back. She continued to bounce and bob her round little tail, giving him the best twerk her bondage and position would allow.
“Shit,” Baker gasped from the doorway.
“What is it?” Crash glanced back.
“Wut? Oh, nothing,” the dealer mumbled. “Nice ass…”
“No shit,” Crash chuckled. “I’ve always been an ass man and this one’s damn near perfect.”
His hands slid back onto her ass and Miranda wiggled into his grip. His palms felt so rough against her skin, which was still sensitive from the spanking.
“That’s right, bitch, you ready t’apologize to my boy when he get back?” Crash hissed.
Miranda’s head drooped, her chest tightening. He’s only toying with me…isn’t he… She twisted, looking back at him as best she could, eye gleaming with emerald defiance. I’ll never give you that satisfaction!
Crash smiled smugly and began to spank her.
Miranda bit down on the rubber ball as he slapped her backside again and again. The sting burned over her perfect cheeks, every spank coming a little harder. Just as promised, he turned her ass bright red. His big rough hands fully engulfed her pert cheeks. Every spank sent the shivers racing over her skin. The heroine swallowed her pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction of crying out.
(SLAP!) Miranda jerked (SLAP!) every time his hand came down (SLAP!) cringing as the pain grew (SLAP!) Teeth clenching her ballgag (SLAP!) fresh tears brimming (SLAP!) helpless and humiliated (SLAP!) as the thug spanked her mercilessly (SLAP!).
Finally, she couldn’t stand the anguish crawling over her curvy ass. A particularly wicked spank sent a shock down her legs and Miranda let out a shrill whimper. Crash hit her again in the same spot, a little harder. The captive heroine began begging and slobbering around her ballgag. Warm tears spilled down her cheeks. The sounds of her surrender only fueled the big thug’s excitement. The spanking quickened. The captive blonde squirmed and squealed, losing all composure as the pain and humiliation overwhelmed her.
“She sorry yet?” Suites asked from the doorway.
Crash froze mid spank and turned to look at him with a wide grin.
Miranda shuddered against the back of the chair, her ass simmering. She twisted to look back at the pimp. He was holding a pile of ice, wrapped in a dirty bar rag against his battered face.
She nodded frantically, whimpering into the gag, “Mm hm! Mm hm!”
They laughed and Crash finished that final spank. Miranda bucked against the searing flash of pain. A sob crawled out of her throat as she felt tears dripping and spit stringing off her chin.
Suites walked over and began caressing her bright red ass. Every simple touch felt like sandpaper on her sensitive cheeks. She couldn’t help but squirm.
“Go call the Hammer,” Suites told Crash. “I decided we definitely gonna pimp this slut out.”
“Word?”
Miranda stiffened as boney fingers slipped between her thighs and clutched her mound.
“This bitch gonna pay for busting my nose, by popping this pussy,” Suites said.
Miranda hung her head as utter despair crept through her brain. With no way to escape, no way to even resist, they had her. …and they’re going to pimp me out like a common whore, or worse… She shifted slightly, feeling her bonds and beginning to wonder if they were ever coming off.
Crash chuckled. “Aight, man, I’ll make the call.”
“Why don’t both y’all head on upstairs,” Suites said, beginning to knead her defenseless sex. “I need a little private time with my new bitch.”
Miranda squirmed miserably as unwelcome sparks spread through her curvy hips. A pit of dread formed in her stomach.
“Ah, shit,” Baker sighed. He followed Crash out the door, slamming it behind them.
The sound set Miranda’s teeth on edge, realizing she was alone and utterly defenseless… with her new pimp.
Chapter 12
Shorty Suites’s long slim fingers reached deep between Miranda’s thighs, continuing to rub her blue covered mound. She squirmed helplessly, boots slipping and sliding over the old carpet. With her ankles crossed and bound, even her long legs couldn’t find any footing.
“You know I fuck all my girls before I put ‘em to work,” the pimp said almost casually. “You’d be surprised how many girls need trained up…”
He pressed in a little more firmly, sending an electric tingle along her slit. Miranda gulped, burying her face in the musty cushions, trying to ignore the sensation.
“It’s like most dudes is so happy to be getting’ some, it don’t matter whether the pussy’s any good or not.”
The captive heroine shook her head, whimpering denial at the static charge pulsing over her labia. Having given up on struggling with her bonds, she twisted around to peer up at the pimp with big green puppy-dog eyes and bat her lashes pleadingly.
“Nah, don’t even try that shit,” he snorted, pointing at his battered face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! she thought as erratic spasms danced down the backs of her thighs. Pushing a little deeper, Suites nudged her clit, sending a rush through her tummy and chest that left her nipples tingling. Miranda let out an unexpected moan.
“Oh, liked that didn’t ya?” Suites gloated, grinding over the sensitive button.
Miranda chewed her ballgag, desperate to hold back any more moans. But as the pimp worker over her cunt, she couldn’t stop her body from talking. He had her writhing over the chairback, the crotch of her leotard already damp. Electricity spread through her hips, arcing up her spine and making every sexy curve tremble, despite the ropes lashed around her wrists and ankles.
Her heart was already racing as his free hand reached up for her naked chest. The touch was frustratingly gentle, almost tickling her sensitive breast. He fingered and teased her stiff little nipple.
Between her legs, his fingers wiggled into the Nandex leotard and under her wet panties. Feeling his fingers on her skin, slipping through her slick folds, brought a wave of degradation she wasn’t ready for.
“I knew you were a slut. You got wet,“ Suites snapped fingers that were dripping with her sticky juices, “-just like that!”
Miranda grunted indignantly, with spit dripping between her lips and the rubber ball wedged in her mouth.
Suites ignored her, tugging her leotard and thong to the side, exposing her tight slit. The air felt cold on her wet pussy lips. She squirmed, drawing in a shuddery breath. The pimp’s grip tightened around her perky breast, kneading in earnest now. Skinny fingers squirmed into her soft, dewy petals triggering a rush of heat. He quickly found her clit and began working the hypersensitive nub.
A deep moan crawled out of her throat. Miranda couldn’t help herself, her arousal spiked hard. Despite the repulsive source of stimulation, she arched her back, pressing into those molesting hands.
I can’t…can’t be enjoying this, can I? A flood of humiliation surged through her heart and mind. It’s like he’s turning my own body against me…
His boney digits slid back and forth through her slippery slit, making Miranda shiver in her bonds. Shame burned through the captive as her pussy eagerly soaked his hand. The other continued groping her plump breast, tweaking her achy nipple with his thumb. Miranda squirmed anxiously, moaning as the heat of unwanted arousal flushed through her neck and face. She was breathing quick, sputtering around the ballgag.
Suites worked her over for a few long moments, then pulled both hands away. Miranda melted over the chairback, letting out a shuddery sigh in a confusing mix of relief and frustration.
The pimp took a step back, reaching down to rub the growing hardon already evident in his pants. Miranda watched dreadfully as he unbuttoned, unzipped, and then pulled out a long, veiny shaft, with a peculiarly pointed head.
No, no, please! Miranda whined, pleading wordlessly into her gag as Shorty Suites stepped behind her. Someone, anyone, help me… But it was too late, she knew there was no one coming to rescue her, and she knew Shorty Suites was going to fuck her.
“Bite that gag, girl,” he groaned, stroking his cock through her soaking lips, coating himself in her warm juices. “You tight as fuck so this probably gonna hurt.”
Please, not like this! Miranda thrashed on the back of the chair, straining against her bonds until her wrists and shoulders screamed in pain. Tears flooded her desperate green eyes.
“Calm down, bitch!” Suites grabbed her by the hips, pinning her down and using his own legs to hold her still. Between the bondage and that simple bit of leverage, she could not move as he reached down and guided his cock between her legs.
Miranda sobbed around her gag. But…but it’s been since Warren,I can’t… I haven’t…I can’t…oh please not like this…
Miranda’s entire body tensed as Shorty Suites penetrated her. He pushed in slowly, letting her feel every inch. Her pussy stretched around his cock, the strain creeping through her hips, sending pangs down both legs. The sensation twisted her guts into a sickening knot, and she clenched the ballgag so tight her jaw began to ache. It wasn’t that he was particularly large, but she hadn’t had a real cock inside her since – for over four years.
“So fuckin’ tight,” Suites groaned delightedly.
He worked in and out almost gently at first, stretching her tight little hole. Miranda groaned, the strain aching through her, not quite pain, just short of pleasure. His cock felt white hot inside her. Warmth flowed through her entire body as he began to move a little faster, plunging even deeper.
Tears rolled down Miranda’s face as shame burned through her with every pulse of that throbbing manhood. What would Warren think to see her being taken and violated by a scumbag like Shorty Suites?
A sudden hard thrust scrambled her thoughts. Miranda moaned into her gag as her body lurched against the chairback. His cock stabbed into her pussy, quick and deep. His hips began rolling against her ass as the pimp began to fuck her properly.
Despite her emotional anguish, Miranda’s body was giving in all too eagerly. A surging warmth tingled enticingly over every curve. The sensation of having a hard driving cock between her legs sent a scintillating rush through her torso. Her plump tits quivered with every thrust, leaving her nipples hard and aching. Her juices continued to flow, her pussy clinging around his shaft. Suites’s cock began to glide in and out as she got even wetter. In and out. Faster. Deeper.
“Fuck yes.” His grunt thrummed through her, stirring disgust.
Suites’s grip tightened, pulling her hips back to meet his thrusts. He bucked hard, making her round little ass bounce. Miranda couldn’t keep from moaning as he found a steady rhythm. Her body was buzzing with unwanted arousal feeling his cock throbbing inside her. A scintillating pressure began to build as every ridge and vein on his hard shaft found every nerve ending in her vagina.
Oh gawd, I’m gonna – No, I can’t! Every pulse of erotic energy deepened her shame. Miranda was gasping and drooling around the gag clenched in her mouth. I can’t, I won’t let Shorty Suites make me cum!
But she was already caught in his rhythm. He was swelling in her tight wet cunt, the heat of his manhood flowing through her hips. Every deep thrust intensified the building pressure, making her curvy little body ache and driving her closer to orgasm.
Keeping one hand on her hip, Suites grabbed the ropes binding her wrists. He pulled back, drawing Miranda like a bow. The arched position created an unbearable tension through her body and peeled a hot-blooded whine from her lips. Holding her like that, the pimp fucked her even harder. Quick, deep thrusts vibrated through her chest, making her tits bounce and quiver. The sensation made her head spin. Miranda gasped and moaned, streams of saliva splattering over her naked tits.
Suites pulled back even further. Miranda groaned, the ache and tension driving her wild. He echoed her with an eager moan. Her hot little pussy quivering around his shaft, craving every inch now. She could feel her own hot juices running down her thighs, spurting and dripping every time he plowed into her sopping wet cunt. Her eyelids fluttered. Her nipples were hard and tight and her heart was hammering between her bouncing breasts. Every deep plunge quaked along her spine, the tension building through that orgasmic pressure until she couldn’t stand it.
It’s been so long…fuck! I need to come so bad… she couldn’t help but think it and began pleading behind her gag for the coming orgasm.
“That’s right, you love it!” Suites grunted. “Take this dick slut!”
He pounded her pussy so hard Miranda was screaming, even as every cry only fizzled out on that rubber ball stretching her jaw. Then all at once that scintillating pressure burst like a dam and a wave of pleasure crashed over the violated heroine!
The climax rushed through her body, every muscle tensing, every curve shaking. Her pussy gushed and spasmed around Suites’s throbbing manhood. The pimp grunted and drove his cock all the way inside her, holding it there as she whimpered and squirmed. She felt him jerk, heard him moan. When he pulled out something hot and sticky splattered her ass. Suites groaned delightedly, spurting warm cum all over her exposed cheeks and letting it drip down the backs of her legs.
When the pimp released her arms, Miranda fell over the chairback, panting and sputtering around her gag. He staggered away. She wasn’t sure where he went, shutting her eyes tight as the orgasmic buzz settled over her. She had a moment of bliss, her body numbed to the strain of her bondage, her mind going rapidly blank.
I haven’t come like that since… she swallowed hard and mercifully couldn’t finish the thought.
(Miranda’s story continues on the next page. However, if you’re one of those particularly villainous readers, you can jump to the Villain Ending here.)
Before (four years earlier)
The hot soapy water sloshed and swirled around her hands as Miranda scrubbed the bowl. She set it aside to rinse and moved on to the next one. Her incredibly wealthy husband was sitting at the marble island behind her, scrolling disinterestedly through his phone. They were alone in their immense white and chrome kitchen, which was almost as big as the apartment she’d grown up in.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t just let Ruby do that,” Warren said without looking up from his phone.
“Same reason I wouldn’t let her fix the ramen for us in the first place,” she replied, keeping her gaze on the bowl and the suds.
“Which is?”
Miranda sighed, it was almost a groan. “Because I can do it just fine.”
Meticulously, she cleaned the two glasses they had used. Thinking of her mother, how she’d get mad if there was any oil or smears left on the glass.
“Yeah, but it’s kind of her job,” Warren added.
“Well, it’s kind of my house.” She held up one of the glasses, turning it in her hand to confirm the pristine clarity.
“I guess I just don’t get it.”
“No, you don’t, and you won’t.” By then she had moved onto the two forks, maneuvering the sponge to get in between each tine.
“And you don’t want to explain it to me…”
“I’ve tried.”
“Fine. But may I remind you, it’s her job and we pay her well to do it.”
“Well, I didn’t grow up with servants, so, to be honest, as much as I love Ruby, it makes me a little uncomfortable how much she does around here.”
“Well, that’s silly.”
“Oh, so I’m silly for wanting to do things for myself?” She was scrubbing the saucepan vehemently, even though it hadn’t been used for much more than boiling water.
“I don’t think that’s what I said,” Warren replied. “It’s certainly not what I meant.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t grow up like you Warren,” Miranda snapped. “I’m sorry that I want to cook dinner for my husband sometimes, even if it’s just ramen noodles, and that I want to clean my own dishes, and that I don’t want to forget that I came from somewhere where we had to be able to take care of ourselves because we couldn’t afford to be waited on hand and foot by…”
Warren’s hand covered hers. It felt almost cool after having her hands in the hot water. It was soothing. Miranda didn’t want to be soothed and pulled her hand away. She turned her attention to rinsing the sudsy dishes.
Warren leaned against the counter beside her, crossing his arms. He was wearing a plain white tee and silky silver pajama pants.
“You can’t let my family get to you like this,” he said, not doing a great job of suppressing the irritation in his voice. “They’re going to be in our lives for a long time, and I’d rather not get yelled at every time they-“
“-Treat me like Capital City trailer trash?”
“I don’t think that’s what any of them meant.”
Miranda spun on him. “Oh please, did you hear what that little bitch your cousin brought said to me?”
“The one with Pierce?” Warren backed up a step reflexively. “You can hardly hold that against the rest of my family. You’ll probably never even see her again.”
Miranda shut off the water and started neatly arranging the dishes into the strainer.
“I don’t care about that,” she grumbled. “I can handle your family, I’ve been doing just fine for four years now.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“Sometimes I just want to come home, have a quiet, simple snack with my husband, and feel like a normal person again. Cook my own cheap garbage noodles. Wash my own dishes. Remember who I am.”
“Didn’t we do that?”
“Yeah, but you still just…”
“What?”
“Sometimes you look at me like I’m Elly May Clampett or something, and you make me feel so small and silly and…”
“Oh, come on, I don’t do that.”
She looked at him, pouting, and nodded. He rolled his eyes and seeing him do it cut right through her. She turned away and stomped to the big glass doors looking out on their massive back yard.
“Well, I don’t mean to,” he sighed. He followed her to the window, slipping his arms around her and gently kissing the back of her neck.
“I know,” she said, not reacting to the embrace or his kiss. “But it doesn’t mean you don’t.”
“Great, well, I obviously can’t win here,” he grumbled, pulling away from her. “I’m going to go get ready for bed, are you coming up?”
Miranda heaved a sigh, nodded. “Yeah, I’m just going to take a few minutes, maybe step outside and calm down first.”
“Seems like a good idea,” he turned and headed out of the kitchen. He paused in the doorway. “Hey.”
Miranda looked at him.
“Y’know, Elly May was always more than anyone ever expected,” he said. “Whenever someone treated her like a weak little girl, she wrestled them to ground. Whenever they treated her like a rude tomboy, she’d end up being the most caring and compassionate person. Anytime someone thought she was a dumb hick, she blew their mind with a little effortless down-to-earth wisdom.”
Miranda crossed her arms. “So?”
“So I guess I do kinda see you as Elly May Clampette sometimes.”
He turned and walked out of the kitchen. She heard his footsteps echo down the hall, then start up the stairs.
Jerk, she thought. Can’t I just be mad now and then without him trying to be so fucking sweet?
Miranda opened the big glass doors and stepped outside into the moonlight. It was a cool night, one of the last they’d likely get before spring started giving into the summer heat. She was wearing a comfy pair of joggers with a light tee shirt. A cold breeze chilled her skin. Something wafted in the periphery of her vision.
Looking up, Miranda saw there was an open window on the second story. The white and yellow drapes were blowing through it.
That’s odd, she thought. Ruby never leaves windows open at night. No biggie, I’ll close it on my way-
BANG! BANG!
Miranda’s heart lept into her throat. Having grown up on the south side of Capital City she knew the sound of gun shots. These had come from inside her house. She dashed back inside.
“Warren?” Miranda shouted. “Are you okay?”
She ran through the white marble kitchen to the hallway which seemed to stretch out beneath her feet as she hurried to the stairwell leading up to the second story of their house.
“Warren!” she called at the base of the stairs. “Warren, where are you?”
The stairs looked higher than usual tonight and as she started up, every step seemed fall out from under her feet like climbing escalators the wrong way. Once she reached the top Miranda heard voices. She dashed towards the bedroom…not the bedroom…Warren’s office. She passed the bedroom.
“Warren!” she yelled. “What the hell was that noise? It sounded like-”
Miranda reached the office. She barged through the door. Warren was standing there. He was holding the Nandex belt and leotard, had them held out in front of him like a shield. Across from him was a tall, slim woman, with a sleek bob of black hair. She was wearing some kind of black catsuit, with black glasses hiding her eyes. She was aiming a gun at Warren.
“- gunshots.”
The instant Miranda stepped into the room the woman swung the gun towards her.
“Miranda!” Warren threw the Nandex belt and leotard at her. She caught them.
BANG!
The bullet ricocheted off the magnetic field generated by the Nandex. Miranda was so bewildered she didn’t move.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The next three shots came so quickly, Miranda barely processed what was happening. Or that the gun was once again pointed at Warren.
He pitched back onto his desk.
Miranda opened her mouth to scream but no noise came out. She lurched forward, reaching for her husband. She grabbed him, caught him sliding off the desk. He felt so limp and heavy, she could barely control him as they collapsed to the floor together.
The woman in black regarded her. She might have seemed concerned if she hadn’t seemed so completely emotionless.
Miranda looked up at her, as if to ask “why”? They shared a moment of silence.
Then the woman dropped the gun and bolted for the window.
Miranda felt something warm and wet spilling over her lap, soaking through her pants. Her hands were drenched in something red and hot and sticky. Her mind refused to process the horror.
“Warren?” Miranda heard someone ask and maybe it was herself.
“Is…she …gone?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
“Are…you…okay?”
“I…what?”
He was so pale. Or maybe he just seemed to be because of the deep dark red pool spreading around them.
“I’ll go get help…” she suggested to herself? She couldn’t move.
Those blue eyes flickered open, looked up at her. There was something less about them now, diminishing. Her heart split in half.
“Stay…please…” he whispered. Or shouted. She couldn’t tell anymore. “Hold me, love.”
“I’m here. I will. I’m here I will oh god.” She struggled to pull him close. He was so heavy. He was on her lap but she wanted to hold him, needed to hold him closer, much closer, tighter, tight enough to keep him from slipping.
“You…” Warren said to his wife. “…my love…”
“I love you, Warren, god I love you so much!”
She pulled him close. Pulled his head against her chest, her sticky fingers smeared that red stuff in his hair. She held him so tight. Pulled him closer. Held him tight. So tight.
“…thank you.” He said and snuggled against her chest, letting his eyes drift shut.
“Don’t go,” Miranda whispered.
“Don’t go,” Miranda begged.
“Don’t go,” Miranda demanded.
“Don’t go,” Miranda pleaded.
“Don’t go.”
But he went.
Chapter 13
…You must be so ashamed of me. Miranda thought silently. You gave me these powers to do something good, something great, and here I ended up some downtown pimp’s fuck toy…
Miranda wasn’t sure how long she laid there, letting herself drift in the pleasant numbness of her orgasm. It felt like longer than it was.
Shorty Suites had wandered into the kitchen. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but every so often he would let out a breathy whistle and mumble something like “whoo buddy” or “bomb ass pussy.”
Then she heard the apartment door open.
“Crash got the-” It was Baker’s voice. “-Ah shit, man, zip that up!”
“Haw…Why? You jealous, white boy?”
“Man, you the same – fuck it,” Baker sounded tired. “Look, Hammer on the phone, said he wanna talk to you.”
“Ah shit.” She heard the pimp get to his feet and the unmistakable sound of a pants’ zipper. “Watch that bitch will ya?”
“Sure thing.”
Baker came into the living room slowly. Miranda could feel his eyes on her, leotard half off and twisted up, her round little ass in the air, drenched in Suites’s cum. Fresh humiliation washed over the violated heroine.
“You superbitches are all such sluts.” Baker flopped down on the middle of the couch. “I fucked a superheroine once, back in Dub-C, you heard of the Scarlet Dove?”
Miranda grunted in disgust behind her gag. If you’re gonna take a turn, don’t make me listen to your lies too…
“Yeah, course you have, well, we was real tight,” Baker went on. “Matter o’ fact, she saved my life once, so, I’m kinda feeling guilty ‘bout all this.”
The captive heroine shifted her shoulders, pulling and testing her bonds. Maybe they had loosened some while Suites was ravishing her. She whined in frustration feeling them tight as ever.
“Calm down,” Baker sighed. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”
Now Miranda looked up at him in disbelief. Her tearful green eyes flooding with hope she didn’t trust.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t gimme that look,” he sighed. “I’m still a scumbag, obvi…but I owe that redheaded bitch so, I guess I figure this is my chance to really pay that back, being as you’re another heroine and all.”
Miranda stared at him doubtfully, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He got up and came over to kneel down near her face. He reached around her head and began unbuckling the gag.
“You know if you make any loud noises, them two motherfuckers gonna come fuck us both up right?”
She nodded hesitantly. Baker undid the straps and pulled the red rubber ball out of her mouth with an audible pop, and a stream of droll running over her pink lips. Miranda whimpered, flexing her jaw and sucking in a deep unimpeded breath.
“Why should I trust you?” she murmured, licking her lips.
“I’m letting you go…”
“Paisley trusted you.”
“Yeah, I feel kinda shitty ‘bout that too,” Baker said. “She was a cool chick, all things con-“ He trailed off, Miranda was glaring at him coldly. “You right, here’s the deal, I’m a cut you loose but you gotta let me go, and I go back to doing my thing in Riverside, or wherever the fuck I want to go, you don’t never fuck with me again.”
Miranda scowled. “You have to be joking…”
“You got a choice?” Baker scoffed. “If I stick this gag back in that pretty little mouth, you really think you can escape?”
The captive heroine shifted reflexively on the back of the chair. Feeling her bonds as tight as ever, the dread of her predicament was all too obvious.
“Fine,” she said through grit teeth. “I look the other way on your dealing, just dealing…no more selling people, nothing else bigger or worse.”
Baker scowled but nodded. “Fine.”
“And if I ever find out you deal to kids or-“
“Lock me up and throw away the key,” he said quickly. “I don’t do that shit. But people gon’ get high regardless, I might as well-”
“I don’t need to hear your fucking philosophical take,” she cut him off. “Fine, Baker, you have a deal.” Her head drooped, more than a little ashamed. From Shorty Suites’s fuck toy to cutting deals with drug dealers. Some heroine I’m turning out to be…
Baker untied Miranda’s wrists and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning in relief as her arms came loose. The dealer helped her off the chairback and to a normal seated position. He bent down to begin working at the ropes encircling her ankles.
Miranda shook out her arms and rolled her wrists. As the feeling returned to her fingers, she pulled up the front of her leotard and tucked her breasts back in. When her feet were free, she stood up eagerly, wiggled her hips in relief and readjusted her bottoms to cover her sex and ass.
Baker took a step back and glanced towards the door. “What’s the plan?”
Miranda was running through a quick systems check, ensuring none of her equipment had been damaged during her capture. Everything seemed to be functioning.
“There’s a window in that far back room,” she explained. “Leads up to the street, you get out that way. Suites and Crash are up in the bar?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that’s the way I’ll go,” she said, clenching her fists. “Make sure they hang around for when the cops show up to check out that dungeon they got down here.”
“Cool,” he started towards the door. “Later!”
“Hopefully not,” Miranda rolled her eyes.
“Aw, c’mon,” Baker said, glancing back. “Now that we so tight, you gotta come dance for me again.”
Miranda face got instantly hot. “What?” she gasped.
He threw her a sly smirk. “Yeah, that mask can hide your face, but when you were twerking that sexy ass for Crash? I recognized that slag tag right away!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying not to sound so pouty and reaching back guiltily to tug at the bottoms of her leotard.
“Uh huh,” he hummed smugly. “Whatever you say…what do they call you again?”
“I don’t have a moniker yet.”
“Cool, we’ll just stick with ‘Candy’ then. Peace.” He headed out, hurrying towards the window at the back.
Well, this just keeps getting better, Miranda seethed as she marched into the hallway, turning towards the font bar area. At least, that little shit doesn’t know my real name, but it can’t be good he’s seen me without my mask and made that connection. She paused and glanced after him for a moment. I wonder if he really did know the Scarlet Dove…nah!
Miranda exploded into the shabby bar area. Shorty Suites was on the phone, pacing near the door which led into the alley. Crash was kicked back in the booth. The two men paused, looking at her in surprise and confusion.
“Hey, guys,” she growled. “Ready for round three?”
Crash lurched forward. Miranda grabbed one of the metal tables and clobbered him with it before he could even get out of his seat.
“Day-um!” the pimp exclaimed across the room.
“Don’t get up on my account,” she quipped at Crash, already whirling towards Suites.
“Hold on bitch let’s talk-“
The heroine threw out her hand and unleashed a repulsor burst. It wasn’t full strength but enough to slam him into the wall. He slumped to the floor with a groan, his phone clattering out of his hand.
Behind her, Crash shoved the table out of the way and lunged out of the booth. This time Miranda was ready, ducking under his big arms as he tried to grab her. She caught him under the chin with a reinforced uppercut that set the thug back on his heels. He staggered towards the door to the basement, and she lifted her hands to blast him with a repulsor burst.
Crash let out a startled cry, then grunted on every step as he tumbled down the dark stairwell.
“Now, Shorty it’s time-“ she started to say when the gangly pimp tackled her!
The force knocked Miranda off her heels and drove her into the ground, where her ribs exploded in pain. She cried out, curling instinctively into a fetal position, clutching her side.
“I don’t know how you got loose, bitch,” Suites said, as he scrambled on top of her. “But you the mo’fucken fly in my KY!”
Miranda mewled in anguish as he wrestled her onto her back. Her breaths were short and panicked and painful as he pinned her down. She reached up desperately, shoving her hands against his torso and fired off another repulsor burst.
Suites eyes were wide and round as he flew straight up and slammed into the ceiling. He seemed to hang there for a moment and then plummeted back down. Miranda rolled out of the way and let him hit the floor. She allowed herself to take more than a bit of satisfaction in the fleshy THWACK of his landing.
Shorty Suites groaned and laid still.
The heroine got to her feet, taking in a deep breath and realizing she’d won the fight. She looked around the bar surveying the damage. Then something caught her eye: Suites phone was still active. She limped over and picked it up. The screen simply read “Mr. H.”
Miranda lifted the phone to her ear. “Is this the Hammer?” she asked.
“Da,” came the smooth, deep throated reply. “This must be the super-devochka I am hearing so much about.”
“Time to pack up your shop,” she said. “Riverside is my city, and you’re not welcome here.”
“My shop?” he chuckled. “You will simply be next red light special in my shop, malyshka. I hear you are quite the, how you say, boob-shell?”
“I think you mean bomb-shell,” she corrected. “And I’ll be coming very soon to clean out your inventory.”
“Very well then, bombshell,” he replied. “Dasvidaniya.” Click.
Before (five years earlier)
Her skin felt like she had licked a thousand 9-volt batteries as her feet lifted off the ground. She could feel the magnetic field pulling at her. It was unstable at first, teetering and wobbly like she might fall. Miranda stuck out her hands, felt the reflective push and pull as the Nandex gloves stabilized her upward motion.
“Holy shit, babe, your flying,” Warren said from below.
When Miranda glanced down, she realized she was almost eight feet in the air. Warren was standing at his lab table, looking up at her in awe. Her bare feet were well above his head.
“I’m flying!” Anxiety and excitement mixed in hot rush.
In that moment of elation, she lost concentration and dropped out of the air. A brief terrified shriek ripped through her lips, but Warren caught her easily. They took a hot second, staring into each other’s eyes, processing the excitement of success.
“We did it! We fucking did it!” he exclaimed spinning her around, before setting her down.
“You did it! You’re a genius!” she gushed, throwing her arms around his neck.
“You flew!” he said again, grabbing her tight round ass and pulling her in for a kiss.
Miranda hopped up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and slipping her soft velvet tongue into his mouth. He spun her around and carried her to his polished oak desk, opposite the lab table. She was making out with him ravenously. She could feel his heart thumping, as hers was thrumming in time between her soft breasts.
“You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met,” she murmured between deep, hungry kisses.
“Y’know there are lots of days I’d try to be humble,” he replied. “Or say something clever…”
“Not today?” she smiled wide.
“Not today!” he said and kissed her again. “You flew, what was it like?”
“It was a total rush!” she replied. “I felt like a superhero up there or something!”
He grinned at her. “You know you kind of look like someone out of a comic book in this thing.” His fingers teased under the edges of her haltered top.
“What happens if I get this Nandex soaking wet?”
Miranda slid her fingers into his messy hair, pulled him even closer shamelessly sucking face. He chuckled into her mouth. His hand dropped between her legs, sliding over her mound. She tensed, and when he rubbed the slick Nandex against her, a staticy charge rushed through her slit. Miranda squeaked in surprise and jumped! Green eyes flaring wide open.
“Might be a slight chance of short circuit,” he teased.
“Well, I might be in trouble because geniuses make me so fucking horny,” she giggled, giving a shy look and squeezing her own breast with one hand.
“All this time I thought it was my money,” Warren shook his head. “Turns out you’re just a big ol’ genius slut?”
“Afraid so, baby.” She purred, working her nipples into rock-hard nubs under the glossy blue material. “Forget athletes and rock stars, all it takes is a big brain and my panties hit the floor so fast-“
He grabbed her breasts, squeezing and kneading them over the blue leotard. Electric tingles danced around the plump orbs, sparking and pulsing wherever his fingers pressed. Miranda threw her head back, moaning and giggling as she felt the stimulating charge.
“Now I know why you wanted me to wear this,” she gasped. “And why you made it so sexy.”
“Oh yeah, it had nothing to do with the scarcity of the NCM-fibers required to make it,” he grinned. “It was totally about ogling and seducing you.”
Miranda laughed and pulled him back to her wanting lips. His hand dropped between her thighs and Miranda spread her legs to give him full access. He rubbed and stroked, grinding the Nandex into her slit and electrifying her pussy. She was moaning into their kisses when he slipped his hand under the leotard. The feel of his fingers stroking through her silky flesh sent a burst of warmth through her. He immediately began rubbing her clit. Miranda bit her lip, soaking the high-tech leotard as her husband drove her absolutely wild.
“Actually, it shouldn’t be doing this,” Warren said, pulling away in thought. “It probably means the calibrations are off.” He turned to go back and double check his notes.
“Don’t you dare!” Miranda gasped, grabbing the front of his shirt.
“But the Nandex should be able to operate at much higher energy levels than this without transferring the charge to your skin.”
“And you can fix that anytime but you’ve had me parading around in this skimpy leotard for over a year, running experiments and letting it get me all tingly and warm, and looking at me the way you do.” Her hands were already working to open the front of his pants. “And you haven’t fucked me in it, not once!” She pulled his cock out, it was already hard and hot in her dainty hands. “Oh! Hello…” she purred. “Are you hard for me, or the science?”
“Do I have to pick?” Warren grinned.
She started to pout, but he scooted her ass to the edge of the desk and tugged the leotard to one side. Miranda quickly guided him into her dripping vagina, moaning and hooking her legs around his hips. Warren pulled her close, holding her tight as their hips began rolling and grinding together. The feeling of her husband’s manhood sliding and plunging inside her sent waves of ecstasy rolling through the blonde. She kissed him, with his tongue in her mouth and his dick in her cunt, she felt entirely immersed in the man she loved.
Miranda worked, squirming on his cock. The familiar tool hit all the right spots, sending pulses of pleasure over her curves. She moaned and gasped and kissed her husband, getting more excited and eager with every stroke as they screwed on his work desk.
It took considerable effort when he decided to peel her off of him. She made pouty, needy whimpers but he was forceful, and she melted immediately. Warren unclasped her halter and pushed the leotard down over her hips and off. He licked his lips, drinking in the sight of her naked body while she pretended to be shy and demure. Then he spun her around and shoved her face down on the desk!
Miranda arched her back, presenting her tight round ass and prim shaved pussy to her husband. His fingers brushed over the tattoo on her low back as he gripped the curves of her hips and slammed inside! Miranda cried out, grabbing the edge of the desk. He was pounding her pussy right away. Deep, hard thrusts rocked through her body, as Miranda pushed up on her hands.
“Oh fuck yes!” she screamed. “Keep going, baby! Yes! Yes!”
Warren’s hands slid up her sides to grab her bouncing breasts. He squeezed and groped them tightly, continuing to pump her. Miranda rocked back, meeting every thrust. She was totally consumed by the rigid shaft sliding in and out, in and out, in and out of her tight wet cunt. She could feel her own warm juices dripping and streaming down her thighs as he fucked her so deep, so good. Her sensitive tits jiggled and tingled in his big hands. Orgasmic energy rushed along her spine, flooding her head and making the room spin.
“Oh shit! I’m going to cum,” she moaned. “Please! Huz! I’m going to-“ Her words dissolved into a teeth clenching scream.
“Yeah, cum for me baby!” Warren pumped faster, driving her through the orgasm. Her pussy gushed and spasmed around his tool. Loving the way she milked his cock, he let go deep inside her.
Miranda was still buzzing with her orgasm when she felt the rush of heat. She came again, smiling ear to ear at the sensation of her husband’s seed flooding her womb.
The satisfied blonde melted over the desk, as he pulled out and staggered around to his chair. Neither of them said anything for several blissful moments.
“Finally,” she murmured at last. “You already made me fly and now you made me float.”
“You’re pretty amazing yourself,” he replied, already sounding a little distracted.
Miranda looked up at him, his attention was already turning back to his notes and sketches. “So, does this mean it’s time to take the Nandex to the rest of the company?”
“No,” he said without looking up. “This has to stay our secret, you and me. Not even my family can know about this.”
“You make it sound so dramatic,” she purred, stretching out across the desk. “I thought your brother already knows?”
“Donovan?” Warren balked. “No, he helped procure the NCM-fibers, but I told him it was for a personal project and he never asked another question.”
“Huz, your Nandex is incredible, and just getting better,” Miranda said. “When you show the world, it’s going to hit like a bomb.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said, looking at her with a frown. “If Donovan and the rest of my family find out about it…”
“They’d only care about selling it to the highest bidder?” she sighed, sitting up and peeling a few note pages off her naked breasts.
“Or worse,” he said grimly. “I’m afraid they’d use it to outfit their mercenaries. I want my Nandex to help people, to protect them. Not just become another tool for my family’s shady PMC.”
Miranda looked at her husband seriously. “You have poured your heart and soul into this, huz, you can’t keep it a secret forever.”
“As long as possible.” Warren returned his wife’s look with a smile. He picked up a pencil, looking over his schematics.
“Hey, what about your assistant?” Miranda turned around, letting her long legs drape off the desk. “I thought she found your designs or something?”
“No,” he said absently, scribbling a few more notes. “She found some of my early schematics, but she doesn’t know what they were for.”
“I thought you said she was really smart?”
“Oh, Luna will probably far surpass me before it’s all said and done,” he nodded. “But for now she’s young and kinda inexperienced.”
“Do you trust her?” Miranda asked.
“I suppose, yes.”
“I think you should bring her in on it,” she decided, after a moment’s thought.
“You do?”
“Yes, I love doing this with you, I love it being our secret,” she said. “And it’s kind of exciting being your sexy little crash test dummy. But you’re going to need someone who understands this stuff, who can give you real feedback and ideas at some point.”
“Wifey, it was your idea was to calibrate the gloves to be used as stabilizers.”
She smiled and shrugged.
“And who suggested building the power cells into a convenient, yet stylish belt?”
“It’s not all that stylish…”
“And when I couldn’t figure out why the prototype caught fire, you refused to take it off until I got back to work?”
“We burned off three inches of my hair!” she said. “You were not going to just give up and let such a tragedy be for nothing!”
Warren chuckled. “To my point, none of this happens without you.”
“Sweet as that is, huz,” she smooched his cheek. “And as obviously true as it is, we both know you’re going to need some actual technical help sooner or later, and the one time I met her, I got a good feeling about Luna.”
He nodded slowly and appreciatively. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You just better not go making her an outfit like mine!” Miranda added, a little more defensive that she intended. “Or if so, it better be like a Nandex burka!”
“I have to be honest,” Warren smiled at his wife. “I kind of like it when you let a little jealousy show through.”
“I can’t help it,” she pouted. “I know how sexy geniuses are…”
“You have nothing to worry about,” he laughed, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the desk and onto his lap. “As long as you’ve got my name Mrs. Ashton, I’m yours and your mine, forever.”
Chapter 14
The Summit was the nicest hotel in downtown Riverside. The higher floors still had some of the best views in town, even though it was quite a ways from the actual shore of the mighty Montgomery river. The lobby was decorated with a minimalist aesthetic, light browns on lighter grays, with square furniture and clean angles. Already there were signs posted to advertise the name change: “Riverside Summit to become Royal Shore Hotel, New Name, Same Luxury!”
Miranda was wearing blue patterned leggings with a comfy gray sweater dress, and probably felt more out of place than she looked in the swanky hotel. Glancing around, she walked briskly to the front desk, admonishing herself the entire way, I promised myself I’d never come in here.
The attendant looked at her with a tired expression that immediately lifted, becoming an overly polite customer service smile. “Good morning, miss! Can I help you?”
“Can you tell me what room Donovan Ashton is in?” It was almost difficult to get the entire sentence out.
“Yes, of course, you must be Mrs. Ashton,” the clerk replied.
She smiled wistfully. “Yes,” then quickly corrected. “Sister-in-law not…definitely not-“
“Of course, ma’am,” he looked over the counter in front of him, then held up a keycard for her. “He’ll be in the penthouse, of course, you’ll need this to access the elevator.”
“Of course.” She took the keycard and headed towards the elevator. And of course, he’s expecting me, the arrogant prick.
It was a long ride to the top floor, and when she arrived the elevator opened right into the penthouse. Miranda stepped out hesitantly.
“Hello?” she called, resisting the urge to turn around and leave before…
“Yes?” Donovan came out the bedroom wearing silk pajamas and a bath robe. His deep brown hair had been wet and smoothed, but he hadn’t had time to style it.
Somehow that made him look even more like Warren, and her stomach tied itself in a knot.
“Miranda?” he said, clearly surprised. “You…you’re here?”
“Don’t act surprised,” she rolled her eyes and held up the keycard. “You left this at the front desk for me.”
“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to use it,” he replied. “Especially not this early.”
“Yeah, I didn’t expect to be here myself.” She swallowed the lump growing in her throat. “Offer me some coffee.”
“Of course, please come in.” He turned and headed across the expansive penthouse.
A huge glass wall, set with two sliding doors opening to the balcony, faced out over the city and that view of the Mighty Montgomery river. There was a circular couch in the front room, which was connected to a full kitchen.
Donovan went to the island where there was a silver tray with a white and silver serving set. “You take sugar and cream, if I remember, like chocolate milk but with caffein?”
“No, not since…” Miranda trailed off. “Black, please.”
“Easy enough.” He began pouring their cups. “You see the news this morning?”
“No, not yet.” She headed over to the windowed wall, gazing out at the stunning view of her city.
“I guess a couple of young girls escaped from some sex trafficking dungeon,” he said, dumping three spoonful’s of sugar and a splash milk in his own cup. “Exciting stuff.”
“Exciting?” A chill crawled up Miranda’s spine. “Sounds horrible.”
“Well the girls told the cops they didn’t just escape, that some superheroine had rescued them,” he approached, extending a cup of coffee to her. “Apparently when the cops showed up, the place had been trashed, and the traffickers were already tied up. Sounds like Riverside’s got its own Scarlet Dove.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Want to have a seat?”
She glanced at the couch but didn’t move, sipping her coffee. “I want you to tell me a story about Warren.”
“What?”
She turned her attention back to the expansive view. “I always hated that dirty, muddy river,” she began. “Our house in Warden City was right on the shore, we had this amazing backyard, big as football field…”
“I remember,” Donovan said, moving to a seat on the couch.
Miranda didn’t look at him. “Well, do you remember that anytime the wind shifted east the whole yard was covered in that river-smell stench of fish and algae and tugboat diesel?”
“No, not really.”
“It never really bothered Warren at all, in fact I think he liked it,” she said, letting herself smile. “Drove me fucking crazy, I think I even accused him more than once of liking it because it drove me so crazy.”
“We both know that’s not how Warren operated,” Donovan chuckled.
“Yeah, well, irritated wives don’t always think clearly when it comes to their husband’s motivations.” Miranda looked down, her coffee seemed so deep and black and calm. “Now, sometimes, I go out to the river to just sit and breathe in that smell, just to be reminded of him.”
“So, if you can put up with the smell of fish and mud,” Donovan chuckled. “Figure you can put up with my vile stench for a few pleasant memories too?”
“You’re only here a couple days, right?” she glanced at him and smirked.
“Week or so,” he smiled, nodding. “Just making sure everything is in place for the rebranding here.”
“Then it’s up to Warden City to do the same,” she said. “I remember.”
“Bit more than a rebranding up there,” he said, rubbing his forehead.
A plethora of mean-spirited comments leapt into Miranda’s head, things she could say about the family secrets and Pierce’s incompetence, but she put them aside. She didn’t come here to fight. She looked back at the river and sipped her coffee; it was smooth and richly bitter. Whatever shortcomings they had, the Ashton’s knew how to find the good stuff.
“You know, your story does make me think of the time our father took us out on one of the company freighters,” Donovan stood and came up beside her. “We were, gosh, maybe six and nine? Father wanted us both to spend the day watching the captain, see what it was like to lead the crew of a ship.
“On the bridge, Warren was only interested in the control deck, how to steer it, how everything worked, then he wanted to go down and see the engine room, he spent the whole afternoon down there with the engineer.”
Miranda’s smile widened. “That’s my Warren.”
“Mom, was completely mortified when he came home covered in soot and oil,” Donovan was shaking his head. “He spent the next month telling us all about how that greasy old boat worked. God, I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”
“Yeah,” Miranda sighed, taking another sip. “You could never just have a conversation with him, I’d be like ‘hey honey look at the pretty boat’,” she lowered her voice doing a silly impersonation: “’Amazing isn’t it, did you know that it’s powered by the blahblah which connects to the thing-a-majig which was originally invented by some old guy, who also’…” She trailed off and suddenly felt a little guilty about making fun of him.
“That’s my brother,” Donovan laughed.
“I never understood how he knew everything about everything,” Miranda shook her head. “He was so smart.”
“Brilliant,” Donovan agreed. “You know, dad used to tell Uncle Monty, that one day I’d be running the company, but Warren would be changing the way the world works.”
Miranda smiled.
“Monty used to say ‘well, as long as we can charge for the upgrades’,” Donovan laughed.
Miranda sipped her coffee and didn’t find it all that funny.
“I’m glad you came by.”
Miranda just offered him a sad little smile, and a short nod. Donovan opened the huge glass door on the huge glass wall and stepped out onto the balcony. Miranda followed him out. There was no river smell, just cool crisp morning air. They were quiet for a few long moments watching the steam curl out of their mugs.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said.
Miranda looked at him. “What?”
“Trying to make the streets a safer place,” he went on. “Fighting for the people in danger of being steamrolled by an uncaring community.”
A nervous chill ran through her. “You do?”
Donovan nodded and gave a guilty sort of shrug. “It’s not hard to figure out where that top-of-the-line industrial cooler at the food pantry came from.” He nodded towards the other end of the city sprawling below them. “Or how that shelter on the east end was able to replace all their beds at the same time, or how they added that second dormitory specifically for endangered families.”
“What I do with my money-“ she began defensively.
“Is none of my business,” he interjected holding a hand up. “Let me finish.”
Miranda eyed him suspiciously but nodded for him to go on.
“It was after he met you, that Warren started talking about making the world a better place,” Donovan explained. “That his inventions became about protecting people and making it safer for people to live their lives.”
Miranda crossed her arms. “You sound like your aunt Sophia the night she accused me of distracting a brilliant mind with ‘frivolous civic indulgences’ I believe is how she phrased it.”
“I’m saying, before he met you, he was designing faster cars,” Donovan corrected. “After, he was making kevlar lighter and more durable, designing heat resistant electronics for fire safety systems…you brought him out of his workshop, and all of a sudden he could see the world his inventions could change.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you should know that he’d be proud that you’re out there, still being the woman that inspired him to be a better man,” Donovan looked at her seriously. “That whatever good you can do in this world, and more importantly your desire to do it, didn’t die with him, you know?”
Miranda looked at him, searching his face to try and decide if there was an ulterior motive to his statement.
“Everything I do,” she said quietly. “I do for him, to honor his memory.”
Donovan looked at her seriously. “I don’t know if I believe that.”
She looked at him on the edge of supreme offense.
“I only mean that it was obviously who you were before you met him. That it means something to you too.”
“I only came here to share few happy memories over coffee,” she said quickly. “So tell me another one.”
Donovan looked out towards the horizon, scratching his head as he thought. A wry smile pulled at his lips.
“Did I ever tell you how I actually convinced him to come out to the Kitty Galore club that night, all those years ago…?”
The Beginning…
Author’s Note:
Heya Besties, thanks for bearing with me. I know I kind of left you all hanging for a bit and I’m sorry. I won’t go into detail, just to say: life happens. But I’m back, and while I can’t promise I won’t encounter more slumps from time to time…I will promise to always come back! Miranda’s got a lot more adventures coming!
I won’t say too much about this final installment here, as I plan to write a full article about the writing and publishing of Bombshell: Riverside Origins. I also plan to reread it for the first time since publishing and give it a self-review & critique. I mentioned this above but I will again here, I’d love to answer any questions you have about my process or about Miranda! So drop them in the comments, tweet me @dangerotica, or email your Bestie!
Also as mentioned above, the ebook for Bombshell: Riverside Origins is available now on Smashwords. It contains the entire 18 chapter adventure, as well as an exclusive Villain Ending, for all of my particularly wicked Besties.