by J K Waylon
"Umm," she groaned, finally forced by lack of oxygen to take a chloroform-soaked breath. Then she raked a sharp stiletto heel down the man's chin, making him loosen his hold. That allowed her to throw him over her shoulder, before punching him in the back of the head. "Oh, that was bad."
Ricardo was the last man standing. He emptied his magazine at her, then threw the pistol aside with a curse. Ms Justice wanted to beat him to a pulp so badly, but the chloroform had messed her up so badly she still couldn't rise to her feet. Fortunately, he didn't know that.
Ricardo grabbed the suitcase, jumped into the van, and peeled out. Ms Justice could only watch him go with incredulous eyes.
"He took my mask," she said. He'd also taken her belt, but she had replacements for both. Not that either was her biggest problem right now. "He recognized me. I have to find him before he tells everyone who I am and destroys me."
First step, though, was to gather up all of his fallen comrades. Ms Justice lined them against the closest wall, bound their wrists and ankles, and finally slapped them back to consciousness. She'd never felt so self-conscious before, because she stood before all those glaring men with her face exposed.
"Listen, I'm willing to strike a deal, boys."
"You got nothing we want," one of them sneered.
"Oh, what about…" she touched her medallion. "Gold."
When she saw every eye lock on the medallion attached to her choker, she spoke the spell's trigger world.
"Gotcha." They were caught, all having open, blank expressions. "So, boys, tell me where Ricardo likes to hole up?"
They gave her an address, and she spent the next few minutes wiping their minds of any memories of her, the exchange, and her secret identity. And then the shapely heroine flew straight to the address given.
The house was empty. She waited an hour, but Ricardo never showed up.
"God damn it! I have to find that bastard before he tells the world my secret identity."
Chapter 8
Meanwhile, across town…
Guardienne plunged out of a dark sky to land on Armand and Sylvia's master bedroom balcony. The bedroom was dark, so she hoped they were sound asleep. And slept soundly.
The sky-blue-clad super heroine checked the French doors. Unlocked. The Germaines were so rich, so well-protected, what did they have to fear from a common break-in?
Quickly moving to the bed, she found it empty. "Where the hell are they?"
The mansion was dark, and she knew there wasn't a party earlier. Hell, the Germaines' parties always stretched into the wee hours. One of the reason Guardienne's alter-ego was also so damn tired. They weren't allowing her to get enough sleep.
If they were out on the town, or out of town entirely, it would throw all of her plans in disarray. At the moment, she planned to mesmerize them with her medallion, before commanding them to call in all their minions. Once the others arrived, Guardienne planned to put them under her mind control, wipe their minds of all memories of Mayor Milano serving the Germaines in any capacity, and then release them back in the wild. Of course, she'd question all of them about just who they had spoken to about the mayor's predicament.
If the operation took more than just that night, she'd have to call her daughters in. So far, she'd been able to insulate them from her terrible setback. The less they knew, the better. Hell, she was already horrified that Barbara Daul knew.
I'll have to pay Ms Daul a surprise visit after I leave here tonight.
Megan moved out of the master bedroom, heading for the stairs. There were a few common areas upstairs she checked first. No sign of anyone at home. Her frustrations began to build. Heart racing.
"I'm such a fuck-up," she softly scolded herself. "How did I ever make it past my apprenticeship?"
In a way, she didn't. Just six months into her apprenticeship, the young sidekick had been captured, fucked stupid, and impregnated. Nine months later, Abby was born. But six months after giving birth, she'd put her sidekick costume back on and continued her training. Since she couldn't go on patrol as much as normal, the Witch's Council forced her to stay a sidekick for over three years. And then, shortly after becoming a full-fledged heroine, another setback had impregnated her again. She almost gave up being a super heroine then, but didn't stop until meeting her future husband and moving back to Synne City.
I should've never re-invented my super heroine persona, she thought. I'm too old. I have too much to lose. And my edge is obviously gone.
Still, her body was fit, her mind eager to help. Everyone swore she could pass for late twenties, early thirties at most. Was it pride or vanity that brought me back into the game?
Guardienne couldn't quit now. She had two daughters who'd followed her into the super heroine life. They were so young and idealistic, just like her before reality slapped her down. They needed her until they could get enough experience to survive in that brutal, merciless world.
Instead of descending the large, dramatic staircase, Guardienne vaulted over into the vast entry foyer, using her power of flight to land gently on the cold marble floors. Her stilettos clattered softly as she moved from one ostentatiously decorated room to another. Only a few dim lights were left on, allowing her to search the ground floor quickly.
And she found them.
Light slanted up the basement stairs. Guardienne slipped up to the head of the stairs, listening intently. She heard an all too familiar sound.
Thwack!
"Ugh."
Thwack!
"Ugh."
Just from that she could tell two things. Someone was dishing out a paddling.. And the person receiving the paddling was none other than Sylvia's PA, Paige Cartwright. She wondered how that could've happened.
Knowing what a world-class pervert Armand is, he's probably watching Sylvia and Paige having nasty, kinky, bondage sex, she thought, face screwing up.
The terrible way Armand treated Sylvia pissed her off so much. He treated his own wife like a whore, regularly giving her to other men. Sylvia had seduced half of the city council on Armand's orders, as well as all of the Daul Enterprises board members.
Is it so wrong of me to hope they have Barbara Daul down there with them, just so I don't have to make a special trip to Daul Manor tonight?
"Here goes nothing," Guardienne whispered, and vaulted over the railing.
She landed on the marble floor with a loud clatter of heels, but she failed to see anyone. Spotting the open door, she realized they were in the private room. Guardienne didn't hesitate, racing through that door and drawing everyone's attention to her. In a split second the busty super heroine assessed the situation. Paige was locked in the same play-station Barbara Daul had previously been bounded within, bent over and being spit-roasted by Armand's personal bodyguards. The billionaire businessman was sitting off to the side, paddle in hand, wearing just a plush bathrobe, watching intently. Sylvia was nowhere to be seen.
Has he given her to an underling as a reward again?
The thought enraged the shapely super heroine. Her mistress deserved better!
"Freeze, miscreants," Guardienne commanded. "You're all under arrest."
Yeah, that was a grade-A bluff. An actual arrest would mean too many questions she could never answer. She just wanted them nice and compliant, so she could deploy her real weapon against them.
The bodyguards froze as commanded, but with their cocks completely sheathed in Paige's mouth and pussy. The poor PA began to gag on the cock shoved down her throat.
"Pull that nasty thing out," Guardienne snapped.
The bodyguard did, but turned toward her as he stroked it. She froze, mouth watering. Normally, someone would order her to suck him off. She had to remind herself that they faced Guardienne, not Megan Milano. As a super heroine, she was not their plaything.
"You better stop before – "
Too late. He shot his wad at her. Guardienne squeaked and jumped back despite herself, and the dollop of cum splatted on the floor just shy of
her left boot. Both bodyguards rushed her before she recovered.
"Fine," she snapped. "We'll do this the hard way."
Guardienne couldn't fly in the basement dungeon. The ceilings were too low. So she charged the closest bodyguard, before dodging aside at the last second. The other man wasn't expecting her and got a mouthful of knuckles. Her punch to the kisser flipped him completely over, and he soon lay unmoving face down on the floor.
Armand charged her, taking a wild swing at her face. Guardienne blocked his punch with a forearm, before kicking him in the chest. As the aged billionaire fell away, the other bodyguard tackled her around the waist.
Guardienne rolled with it, ensuring she came out on top when they stopped. He promptly grabbed her tits, so she boxed his ears. That dazed him, but he didn't let go of her tits, so she punched him in the nose. Broke his nose, leaving it a bloody mess. Yeah, that made him let go.
Paige started screaming bloody murder. Guardienne almost slapped her, just to shut her up. That evil bitch was just as evil and wicked as her lord and master, Armand.
"Shut. Your. Pie. Hole," Guardienne snarled through clenched teeth. She showed the beautiful brown-eyed blonde a clenched fist. "Unless you want me to do it for you."
Paige was evil and wicked. She wasn't stupid, so she shut up.
"Do you know who I am?" Armand growled, eyes blazing. "I'll file charges against you, and have you sent to prison for life! I can do that, even to a super heroine."
Guardienne fought the urge to cringe, to kneel before him. It was a greater struggle than she'd anticipated. But she managed to remain cool and collected outwardly. Barely.
"Mr. Germaine, we have to talk," she said. "Go stand next to Paige."
"How do you know my name?" the blonde beauty demanded.
The heroine froze, wondering if she'd screwed up somehow. Didn't matter, she would just wipe Paige's mind of that memory, too. But Armand wasn't moving. Did he really want her to kick his ass first?
"I'm not going to ask again, sir," she said. "Step over beside Paige."
"Hello?" Sylvia's voice echoed down the stairs. That voice froze Guardienne in place, eyes wide. She heard her mistress's heels clattering on the stairs as she descended. "Megan? Is that you I hear? Megan, my pet, come to me."
Paige and Armand looked at her incredulously. Guardienne squeaked, feeling her emotional defenses crumbling. Just dissolving to nothing. She teetered atop her stilettos, knees feeling rubbery. All of her super strength and willpower bled away, just like that.
This can't be happening.
"Megan?" Sylvia asked again, coming into the BDSM dungeon and freezing. "Oh."
"Y-Yes, mistress," Guardienne whispered.
"Megan Milano is Guardienne?" Paige gaped. "Holy shit!"
Guardienne just stared at Sylvia. The wicked blonde looked gorgeous in a bright red gown and heels. Diamonds and rubies dripped off her ears, neck, and wrists. And a knowing smile was spread over her face
"Take her, Sylvia," Armand said.
The blonde pushed one stiletto-heeled foot forward. "Come to me, my pet. You know what to do."
Guardienne took a step toward her. Her head felt numb. She felt so weak and helpless. And then love for her mistress welled up, tears flowing.
"Mistress, I…"
"I know, my pet. Now, show me how much you love me."
The shapely heroine trembled like a leaf, opposing urges fighting within. Then Sylvia arched a disapproving brow, and the mighty super heroine melted completely. Guardienne dropped to all fours and crawled to her mistress. Lowering her face to Sylvia's extended foot, she kissed the toe and started licking.
Three strikes, and I'm out.
Chapter 9
After returning to her changing site for a spare mask and belt, Ms Justice flew around looking for a pay phone. At the same time, she cursed her stupidity for not keeping a spare phone in her bag. She had an entire spare costume in it, after all.
Finally, she gave up and just flew home. She did have a spare super heroine phone stashed there. But as soon as she saw the lights, she knew she had a much bigger problem.
The house was all lit up, front door broken off the hinges. The stunned super heroine stood on the sidewalk and stared at it with a thundering heart. For a moment, she was too afraid to enter. Not afraid of Ricardo, but of what she might find.
"Dear Lord let Robert be okay and safe."
The shapely heroine crept forward, all senses on full alert. It was deathly quiet inside. She looked around the entry with huge eyes, licking her lips, and trying to listen over a thundering heart.
No one shot at her. No one leapt out of the shadows. So she moved deeper into the large home, heels softly scraping on the hardwood floors. Ms Justice found the family room trashed, virtually every piece of furniture ripped to shreds, pillows cut open and white stuffing spread over everything.
"Robert?" she called. "Hello? Robert, are you home?"
No answer.
The last time she saw him was in her dressing room after the show. He'd said he had a few calls to make, and would head home right after. There was a boxing match on Pay-for-View he was eager to watch that night. The fight should've ended hours ago, after which he would've gone to bed.
Ms Justice steeled herself for the worst, before heading toward the master bedroom. It felt so surreal as she slowly moved through the huge home, like she was moving through a stranger's home instead. Finally, she approached their shared bedroom, and noticed the door ajar.
Throat tight, she pushed the door all the way open. Their king-sized bed came into view. Empty. The sheets were in disarray. Little red stains soaked the satin. Moving all the way into the room, Ms Justice looked around.
"It looks like he didn't go without a fight," she muttered. No bodies, but splotches of blood were everywhere. She quickly checked the master bath and closet, but found no one. Neither beloved husband nor bad guys to be found. "Oh, Robert, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
Hands shaking, she started to clean up, but stopped herself. I'm not thinking straight. I have to get control of myself, and figure this out. Where would they take him?
Ms Justice did a quick search of the entire house, every room and closet. Last, but not least, she entered her home office. It was similarly trashed. It looked like they had broken every one of her cherished mementos. Her laptop lay open in the corner. She cleared the desk off, placed the laptop upon it, and pressed the power button. It came up immediately to the password prompt.
"A lucky break for me," she muttered, sitting in the ripped-up office chair, red thigh-booted legs crossed. She noticed two keys were missing, and the screen had some nasty cracks, but it worked otherwise. "Let's see what I can find out about Ricardo, of the gun smuggling fame."
Her laptop had all the same apps as her destroyed phone, only hidden. Once she had accessed them, Ms Justice dug into the Synne City Police Department's files. It took the better part of an hour, but she finally found him.
"Ricardo Antonio de la Cruz of Panama City, Panama," she said, reading his rap sheet. Murder, rape, kidnapping were just a few of his crimes. Apparently he started out smuggling people out of Central America and into the United States. "A coyote? Figures."
She shook her head ruefully. He was one bad hombre. There wasn't any crime he wasn't willing to commit. Of late, he tended toward human trafficking and selling high-tech military hardware to street gangs.
"This is why we need a wall."
Ricardo wasn't a Synne City resident, but visited the city often for his unsavory business. The police didn't have any known hangouts on record, just a long list of gullible women as past residences. More than half of those women had gone missing, suspected of being his victims and sold into sexual slavery.
"What a dirtbag," she said. A pop-up suddenly appeared. It was an incoming Skype call. "Unknown?"
Her red-gloved hand tightened into a fist, heart racing. She answered hesitantly.
"Hello?"
Rica
rdo's smug face appeared on her screen. He grinned through a much shakier screen that could only have been a phone. Almost instantly, the heroine's eyes locked on the naked man bound spread-eagle on a St. Andrew's Cross behind the vicious criminal. A bright red ball-gag filled his mouth, and she saw red welts crisscrossing his chest and belly. Robert looked terrified as two hot Latina women pressed up close on either side, their hands roaming his body.
"Hola, Kelly 'Ms Justice' Kavanaugh," Ricardo said in a voice that made her feel dirty. His leer was even more disturbing. "I see you have another mask. Did you find everything, or everyone, you were looking for at home?"
"You stinking pendejo," she snarled. "If you hurt my husband, I swear I'll hunt you down and kill you."
"Ah, the cool Aryan façade has been broken," he laughed. "And your Spanish isn't too bad, but pendejo is pretty pussy for an insult."
She ignored him. His lighthearted tone didn't bode well for her, or for Robert. Ms Justice closed her eyes, tried to control her breathing. She had to keep her head if Robert was to have any chance at all.
She quickly called up an app to trace the call. It would take a few minutes, so she had to keep him on the line.
"Listen, Mr. De la Cruz," she said. "You want something. I want something. I think we can work out a deal."
"I'm glad to see you are going to be reasonable," he said.
"What do you want?" she asked. "I have lots of money. How much ransom are you demanding for my husband's release?"
"Depends. How much cash do you have access to right now?"
She had to open a new window, logged into her bank.
"A little over one-point-two million," she said. Basically, her last paycheck with a little left over from the previous month after living and business expenses. Robert usually invested whatever was not needed for living expenses, but hadn't done it for this month yet. "It's all yours if you release Robert right now."
"Transfer it to this account," Ricardo said. He gave her all the information she needed, and Ms Justice sent the money over without hesitation. Cleaned out her checking and savings accounts. "Very good, Ms Kelly. Now, remove your top."
