Fuchsia Fox: "Fear and Scathing"

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Centurion
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[I know it's been a while. I was working on some other projects.]

Fuchsia Fox: "Fear and Scathing in America"

Chapter 1 -- Alexandria, Virginia

Somerville Antiques occupied a beautifully restored Early American house in the Old Port section of the city. Ruth Buxton, a formidable woman of 50, looked across her desk at the 24-year-old girl sitting patiently in a Chippendale chair with her knees together. Nice looking girl, short brunette hair, wearing a short-sleeved cobalt blue wraparound top and a short white skirt.

"This is an interesting resume, Miss Traylor," she said. "But why didn't you finish your Masters degree?"

"I haven't given up on it," Jennifer said, crossing her classy legs. "It's just... five years of college and I felt it was time to get a grownup job. Hopefully something in keeping with my background in American History."

"Somerville will certainly do that," the manager said, glancing at her application again. "A background in archeology, too! You work at the Smithsonian now?"

"Yes, ma'am, as a tour guide," Jennifer said with a slightly twisted frown. "No openings for curators right now."

Mrs. Buxton smiled as she got up and walked around the desk. "I have another interview later today," she said, "and I don't want to get your hopes up, but I must say you are the nicest applicant I have seen so far."

"Really?" Jennifer gushed, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Thank you!"

Just then the bell over the door gave a ting-ting as a woman and two men came in. The woman was a dark brunette of about 30, dressed in a long, black dress with a plunging V neckline. The men were big, muscular types in dark suits. Some undefinable quality about them said "henchmen".

"Ruth Chandler Buxton?" the woman asked with an English accent. "My card..."

Mrs. Buxton took the card. Jennifer caught a glimpse of a printed address in London and below it a handwritten address in Virginia. "Donna Grimshaw, doctor of chemistry?" Mrs. Buxton said. "What can we do for you today, Ms. Grimshaw?"

"As time is pressing," the brunette said, glancing at Jennifer crossly as if she were an intruder, "please forgive me if I get straight to the point. Do you know anything about Duncan Phyfe puzzle desks?"

"I should," Mrs. Buxton said with a smile. "I did my Masters dissertation on them." She turned towards Jennifer to include her. "Duncan Phyfe, as you know, was an Early American cabinetmaker, 1792 to 1846. He made several desks with secret drawers that operate like Chinese puzzle boxes. Some of them are very tricky to get open."

"I didn't know that," the girl said. "That's fascinating!"

"Quite," Grimshaw said impatiently, pushing Jennifer gently to one side. "I have inherited one from my grandfather, and I must get it open! I'm prepared to reward you handsomely if you will come with me right now."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Mrs. Buxton said politely. "My assistant is away on an errand, and I have an appointment at ten. If you wouldn't mind waiting, I have a lovely Hepplewhite sideboard--"

"You will come with me right now!" Ms. Grimshaw stated firmly, as she grabbed Mrs. Buxton's wrist and the two women's eyes locked. For the space of a few seconds, Mrs. Buxton stood stock still, her eyes wide as saucers, her lips trembling with terror. She began to shiver uncontrollably, her breath coming in shuddering gasps as beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead.

"Please don't!" she begged. "Yes! Yes, of course I will come with you..."

"Mrs. Buxton?" Jennifer gasped. "Snap out of it!" She reached out to shake the older woman, but the henchmen caught her around the waist before she could move. They were both horrifyingly strong! Seizing hold of Jennifer's arms, they simply plucked the slender girl off the floor at if she were a doll, her long legs kicking uselessly in the air.

"Let go of me!" Jennifer protested, struggling to no avail.

"Not a chance, sweetheart," one of the men grinned, also betraying an English accent. He tightened his grip around the girl's torso, tearing open the front of Jennifer's warp-around blouse and allowing a glimpse of her lacy pink bra to peek out as he turned to Ms. Grimshaw. "What do we do with the bird, boss-lady?"

"I don't care," the woman said without breaking eye contact with Mrs. Buxton. "Tie her up or something."

The thugs carried Jennifer back to the Chippendale chair and sat her down. Briefly the girl thought about the gold bracelets on her wrists. All she had to do was speak the name "Ishtar" and they would change her into the super-powerful Fuchsia Fox. But doing that would clearly reveal her identity. On top of that, the energy burst that accompanied her transformation would ruin the antique chair! Maybe it would be better to play for time...

Grabbing some strong cord from a box of packing supplies, the men quickly lashed both of her wrists to the chair's armrests, then bound her slim ankles together. As an afterthought, one of the thugs shoved a handkerchief in between her parted lips and tied it behind her neck! "Nnnn!" Jennifer protested, eyes wide with dismay. "Dnnt mmmmph!"

It was too late! Hampered by the cleave gag, she could no longer activate her bracelets!

"Gilroy! Forbes!" Ms. Grimshaw commanded her goons. "The car!" Leaving Jennifer tied up and helpless, they got into a black limousine and drove off.

Jennifer struggled and squirmed in her restraints, her smooth bare legs rubbing against the tight cords as she thought what an embarrassing predicament she had gotten herself into. Her alter ego was the city's most invincible superheroine, but tied up like this, she was powerless!

With a ting-ting, the door opened again. "Sorry I'm late, Mrs. B," called a trim, long-legged redhead in her early twenties, as she bustled down the center aisle of the antique store carrying a couple of paper bags. "MacGilly's was out, so I had to go across to--" The girl froze at the sight of Jennifer, sitting in the Chippendale chair bound with ropes.

Slowly the girl smiled, looking around as if she expected she was the victim of a practical joke. "I don't want to seem rude, miss," she said, "but is there some reason you're sitting there trussed up and helpless like some kind of bondage princess? Personally I think it's hot, but I doubt if Mrs. B would approve."
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tallyho
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Back in the game, Mr C.
Nice start (not totally convinced by the reaction at the end, but still good!) ;)
Hopefully not too long for the next post.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.

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tallyho wrote:Back in the game, Mr C.
Nice start (not totally convinced by the reaction at the end, but still good!) ;)
Hopefully not too long for the next post.
Appreciate it, Mr. T! I expect you to let me know if my British characters aren't convincing. :)
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Chapter 2 --


Jennifer couldn't help blushing, thinking what she must look like, her clothes disheveled, blouse totally undone and flashing her perky breasts encased in her lacy pink bra. "Nghh!!!" she groaned, urgently wagging her head back and forth. The redhead, still grinning, walked around behind her and undid her gag.

"Please untie me!" Jennifer begged. "Mrs. Buxton has been kidnapped!"

***

The police took almost ten minutes getting there. Jennifer was frantic, but she couldn't just leave the scene of a crime. In any case, the villains were long gone and she only had one slim clue where to go. And to make it worse, the patrolmen who took down her statement didn't seem very anxious to get started.

"Donna Grimshaw!" Jennifer insisted. "I saw the woman's calling card! She must have taken it with her when she left. I didn't get the address! We've got to hurry!"

"Just calm down, miss," one of the cops suggested, his eyes running up and down Jennifer's figure while the other talked for a long time on his radio.

"Roger that," he said at last. "You must have got it wrong, lady."

"I was standing right here!"

"Look, lady," he said, exasperated. "My lieutenant just checked out Donna Grimshaw. She's a British citizen in this country on a teaching visa, lecturing at Georgetown. Respectable scientists don't go around abducting people. You got it wrong."

Jennifer almost asked to speak to his lieutenant, but why should they listen to her? If she were in costume, it would be different. For some reason, the Fuchsia Fox never seemed to have trouble getting men to do what she wanted.

Once she was let go, Jennifer called up Mrs. Danforth at Science Today magazine, where she used to work as a proofreader when she was an undergraduate.

"Donna Grimshaw?" the older woman said, searching her files. "Huh! Granddaughter of Horace Fossbender, a big cheese in the War Department during World War II until he had a falling out with Vannevar Bush. He retired to a house down in Spotsylvania. His daughter Erin didn't inherit the science gene. She moved to England and married some barrister."

Jennifer felt things clicking into place. "Would you happen to know if he left an estate down there? Or if she inherited it?"

"You'd have to talk to the county clerk's office for that, Jenny. What's this all about, anyway?"

"Um... just a story I'm working on, Mrs. Danforth," Jennifer said. "I'll let you know if anything comes of it."

***

A little over an hour later, the clerk of Spotsylvania County, Virginia, looked up blandly from his desk when he heard high heels approaching. In a bored voice, he recited the familiar tedious formula, "Yes-ma'am-how-can-we-help-you-to--"

His voice choked in his throat as his eyes lit on the exquisitely beautiful brunette girl standing in front of him, dressed in skin-tight fuchsia halter top with a fox head chest emblem caressing the swell of her shapely young breasts. Below a stretch of exposed midriff, she was wearing matching briefs, along with elbow-length gloves and sexy little ankle boots! "--day?" he finished, his mouth watering as his eyes glided down her tony bare legs.

"Yes, please," the Fuchsia Fox said sweetly, clasping her hands behind her and cocking her shapely hips to one side. "Could you tell me if there's a Fossbender estate near here? Or if a Donna Grimshaw has inherited it?"

"That's con-con-confidential," he replied automatically, licking his lips.

The Fox propped her hands on the desk and leaned forward, giving him a closer view her two pert little coconuts. "Please?"

The poor man didn't stand a chance! Some minutes later, the Fox was flying over a remote rural area, holding a paper with detailed instructions on how to find the old Fossbender place. It turned out to be an old Southern plantation house with four huge columns in front, surrounded by oaks and cypress trees, with a creek running nearby. The place looked as though it hadn't been occupied in a long time. Most of the windows were shuttered, and the white painted wood was stained with moss and mildew. Someone had trimmed the grass and the brush back a little, but the grounds still had a seedy look.

And the black limousine was parked under the attached carport!

The Fox walked right up to the front door. No point in being bashful. She was going to knock when she noticed the door was unlatched. Jennifer was brought up to be a good Southern girl. You didn't walk into somebody's home unannounced. "Hello?" the sexy superheroine said, stepping inside the foyer. "Anybody home?"

The foyer was a dismal hallway that ran straight through the house, with a staircase on the left and closed double doors on either side. It was pretty dark, the only light coming from a window way up on the second floor landing. She could make out dusty pictures hanging from the walls.

The Fox crossed the creaky floorboards and tried the door to her left, if only to throw some more light in here. The room proved to be a parlor, half the furniture draped in white sheets to keep off the dust. There was another door on the other side of the room with light shining from under the crack. She was about to make for it when suddenly the two henchmen crept up on her from behind and jumped her.

"What's all this?" one of the thugs smirked, fondling the Fox's supple breast. "Do you American birds often run around in your knickers, sweetheart?"

The superheroine blushed as the other one patted her sassy little tail. They were both superhumanly strong! Hands with grips like steel clamped around the Fox's wrists, overpowering her! While she struggled, their free hands caressed her scantily-clad curves, feeling up her body through the skin-tight fabric of her costume.

The one who had spoken hooked his fingers into the bodice of her halter top and gave a little tug on the elastic fabric, pulling just enough to peek down her cleavage! As warmth began to spread through her body, Jennifer couldn't help wondering if she had blundered into a situation that was too much for her to handle!
Last edited by Centurion 9 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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tallyho
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More good stuff! :yes:
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.

I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
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valugi
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The story is going well, looking forward to reading more
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Chapter 3 --

"I'm the Fuchsia Fox!" the heroine blustered. "Get your hands off me if you know what's good for you!"

"Oooh a threat!" the thug laughed, as his finger rubbed her nipple. "I'm really scared, kitten. You gonna scratch me to death with your claws?"

"Something like that," the Fox smirked. A surge of energy rushed through her body, her satin skin tingling as she drew more power from her invincible bracelets of Ishtar. As she started to pull away the thugs tightened their grips, but the stunning superheroine took a step backward to throw them off balance, then executed a forward flip, bursting free of their grasp as she somersaulted through the double doors into the parlor.

The two thugs recovered instantly and chased after her. The furniture was something of a hazard as the nimble superheroine dodged the first one's clumsy roundhouse and dropped him with an elbow into his stomach. That gave the other one the chance to snake his arms around the Fox's alluring waist like an anaconda, his hands grabbing at her supple torso as he struggled to pin her arms. Meanwhile the first had regained his feet and tried to grab her from the front. There was no doubt about it, both of these guys were a LOT stronger than ordinary men!

"You boys are pretty tough," the spunky superheroine said, bringing up her long legs in a double kick that sent the one in front of her tumbling backwards over the dusty sofa. "But this is where we separate the men from the girls!" She broke free of her assailant, whipping the back of her fist against his beefy neck. He let out a grunt of dismay but kept coming, trying to grapple her again. The Fox ducked underneath his reach and, grabbing hold of his crotch, tossed him over her shoulder onto his compatriot with a CRASH!

"WHAT is going on in here?" Ms. Grimshaw was standing in the open doorway of the next room. She had removed the skirt from her black outfit, converting it into a quite revealing bodysuit with high cut legs and open sides showing off a generous amount of creamy bare skin. She was wearing black knee boots underneath it. Through the open doorway a study or den could be seen. Mrs. Buxton was in there, examining an antique desk.

"From where I'm standing," the Fox said, cocking her hips, "it looks like a kidnapping! Are you all right, Mrs. Buxton?

The antiques dealer looked up at the mention of her name, but didn't reply.

"She is quite unharmed, young lady," Grimshaw said, her eyes scrutinizing the heroine's sexy fuchsia costume. "You, however, present a problem. I do not believe I have ever met anyone stronger than Gilroy and Forbes! Be that as it may, I cannot allow you to disrupt my research."

"I'd like to see you try and stop me," the Fox said smugly, as she advanced.

The woman raised her hands as though in self-defense. Jennifer didn't want to hit her if it wasn't necessary, so she just took hold of her upper arms to push her aside. Ms. Grimshaw's hands touched the Fox's wrists, clearly not attempting a wrestling hold but lightly skimming down the silky fabric of Jennifer's gloves. Once they reached exposed skin, her fingers moved caressingly along the soft curve of the superheroine's smooth bare shoulders. At the same time, the two women's eyes met. Ms. Grimshaw's were green, but not the warm green of jade or emerald, more an icy cold green, an antiseptic chemical green.

The Fox shivered as a peculiar feeling fluttered through her, arresting her forward motion. Ms. Grimshaw's hands felt almost like spiders, raising goosebumps on her flesh. In fact... omigosh! They WERE spiders!

"Eeee!" Jennifer squealed, as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end! She had always had a thing about arachnids since she was a little girl and a boy at summer camp had put one in her sleeping bag. Now she could SEE as well as FEEL an enormous, brown eight-legged horror climbing slowly up her slender neck, its hairy legs tickling her throat where she was most vulnerable! And somehow it seemed ten times as big as a normal spider, ten times as hideous, the fear a hundred times as intense! The Fox pulled her hands back, desperate to brush it off, but she was petrified with horror. She swallowed dryly, skin shivering with panic.

"I am SCATHE!" Ms. Grimshaw said proudly. "And your will is mine, heroine!"

"G-g-get it off!" the Fox whimpered, desperately trying to summon the courage to fight. But her legs felt frozen in place, her stomach churning, heart palpitating. Her teeth wanted to chatter. "P-p-please get it off!"

Her eyes were like saucers, locked helplessly on the horrid thing as it now reached her face! On some level, the heroine realized that it couldn't be real, that it must be some kind of illusion, but god it FELT so real! It was like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from!

"You silly girl, no one resist my pheromone touch," Scathe said. "I can reach directly into the fear center of your brain! Surrender! Submit and I shall stop."

By now the Fuchsia Fox was on her knees, trembling, whimpering... a frightened ten year old far removed from the proud, cocky superheroine who had burst in moments ago. "P-please," she mewled. "I s-s-surrender! M-m-make it go away!" For a moment her exquisite body flushed with the shame of her meek submission, but that humiliation paled to insignificance compared to the icy cowardice freezing her spine.

"What is it that makes you more powerful than my men?" Scathe demanded, her hands still caressing the heroine's beautiful face. "Surrender that to me!"

For a heartbeat, the Fox rebelled. Her bracelets of Ishtar? "N-n-no!" she ground out through gritted teeth. "Please, I c-can't..."

"Do not toy with me!" Scathe said. "Deeper in your mind are fears even more unpleasant!"

The spider multiplied into dozens, scurrying in a wave over her face and shoulders, burrowing into her hair. As the Fox squeezed her eyes closed, moaning in terror, she was ten years old again, feeling creepy crawlies climbing all over her! The fear was so overwhelming, she couldn't even think.

"PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!" the heroine sobbed, tears falling down her cheeks as she stripped off her invincible bracelets and handed them over. "I'll do anything you want! Please make it go away!"

"Very good," Scathe smiled, at last releasing her touch. "Gilroy! Forbes! Tie her up!" she commanded, putting the bracelets on her own wrists and admiring them as the Fox slumped to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Gilroy and Forbes picked up the crying superheroine and hauled her to her feet. She was too frightened and teary-eyed to put up much of a fight as they tied her wrists behind her with some tough packing cord. Mrs. Buxton looked up from the desk at the helpless Fox with a mixture of despair and sympathy. "Who told you to stop working?" Ms. Grimshaw snapped. "Get that desk open!"

Just then, someone knocked on the front door.
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Awesome idea for a villainess, I really enjoy that - kudos to you. Also really pleasant to read something so well-written. I'm not a massive fan of exclamation points from the narrator, but then I totally get why you would go there in this genre. Look forward to more.
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Void wrote:Awesome idea for a villainess, I really enjoy that - kudos to you. Also really pleasant to read something so well-written. I'm not a massive fan of exclamation points from the narrator, but then I totally get why you would go there in this genre. Look forward to more.
I appreciate the compliments. There are a number of villains in the comics who use fear as a weapon, but I don't recall seeing a story in this genre about one. I thought it would be different, if nothing else.
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Chapter 4 --

For an anxious moment, the Fuchsia Fox's quivering heart swelled with hope at the thought that she was rescued! The policemen had decided to follow up on her lead after all! Trembling all over from the effects of Scathe's touch, the spineless girl spared no thought for the embarrassment of D.C.s famous, invincible superheroine being found in this position, captured and tied up. None of that mattered as long as she was safe!

But the two thugs quickly hustled the Fox into the corner of the parlor, against the wall where she would be out of sight. While Gilroy held her arms pinned, squeezing her defenseless breast with obvious pleasure, Forbes clasped a hand over her mouth. "Not a sound or we'll hurt you, luv," he whispered.

Scathe put on her skirt and went to the door. As she opened it, a broad shaft of sunlight shone into the foyer. The superheroine held her breath, powerless and vulnerable and shaking like a leaf as the thugs held her prisoner.

"Donna Grimshaw?" a male voice said. "Package for you, ma'am."

"Mmmmmm!" The Fox wriggled uselessly in the strong hands of the thugs, struggling to call for help.

The deliveryman didn't hear. He exchanged a few comments with Ms. Grimshaw and watched her sign for the package, oblivious of the superheroine being held captive not two yards from where he was standing. He bid her good day and climbed back into his van. As he drove away, tears of hopelessness and despair came welling up in the girl's eyes.

"Well I suppose that's that!" Scathe said with satisfaction as she closed the door and brought the package inside the parlor. The thug took his hand off the Fox's mouth.

"Just who is this little leotard-wearing twit, anyway?" the villainess smirked, as she ran her appraising eyes over the girl's skin-tight, two-piece fuchsia costume. Her right hand reached out tauntingly to the Fox's face, fingernails lightly stroking her beautiful, tear-streaked cheek. The superheroine struggled to pull back, mewling with fear and quivering against the bodies of the thugs at the very thought of being touched again by that hand. Her stomach felt queasy as if it wanted to throw up.

"She calls herself the Fuchsia Fox," Gilroy volunteered, grinning as he still fondled her left boob.

"It was a rhetorical question, ninny," Grimshaw sighed, her voice dripping with contempt. Humiliation and anger flashed like lightning in the henchman's eyes, but when she turned in his direction, he lowered them again, clearly as scared of his boss as the Fox was.

In the silence, suddenly there was a hollow click from the study. "I have it!" Mrs. Buxton called.

"You HAVE it?" Scathe echoed, racing excitedly across the parlor, her long skirt wafting around her legs.

Gilroy and Forbes followed, carrying the lissome Fox in between them. Once inside the study, they shoved the girl next to Mrs. Buxton. The two women huddled together -- the antiques dealer and the superheroine who had come to her rescue and who was now a helpless, frightened prisoner herself.

The desk was a simple, classic design with three drawers on the front. Mrs. Buxton's exploration had opened a secret panel protruding from the side. Carefully Ms. Grimshaw reached inside and retrieved a bundle of papers and a small ampule.

"Oh, wonderful!" she breathed, holding up the vial reverently. "My grandfather's research, still intact! In case you're wondering, I've been working with steroids. Gilroy and Forbes here are the beneficiaries. They can each lift almost a ton. That's an IMPERIAL ton, of course, not your silly little American ton."

The Fox looked timidly from one man to the other, her slight body shaky with fright. They grinned back. With her bracelets of Ishtar, she could lift almost ten tons, but how could a mere girl with no super powers even think about resisting them, let alone escaping them?

"Unfortunately there are unsightly side effects," Grimshaw sighed. "Show them, Gilroy!"

The henchman stripped off his shirt. His arms and chest were muscular and tattooed, but they were also criss=crossed with patches of rough, warty skin.

"No matter," Grimshaw continued, now busy studying the papers. "Recently I learned that my grandfather had worked on a Super Soldier serum during World War II. But for some unfathomable reason, he suddenly stopped all his research and retired!"

"M-maybe the f-formula didn't work?" the Fox ventured meekly, grasping at straws.

"Oh bosh!" the villainess scoffed, still engrossed in the papers. "My grandfather was brilliant! Don't talk about things you know nothing about, you silly cow." She looked up, addressing her henchmen as she walked briskly to the staircase. "I shall be busy in the laboratory. Keep these two entertained while I'm gone."

"It'll be our pleasure, boss-lady," Gilroy grinned as she disappeared up the stairs.

For several minutes the two henchmen looked down at Mrs. Buxton and the Fuchsia Fox, cowering together in a couple of stiff wooden chairs. Gilroy was licking his lips as he eyes drank in the sexy superheroine, helpless in his clutches. "Well then," he said at last. "Why don't we get comfortable, luv?"

The Fox let out a timid, feminine squeak of alarm as he grabbed her shoulders, hoisting her up and slinging her lithe frame easily across one shoulder. Knowing that physical resistance was useless, the tied up superheroine went compliantly limp as the thug carried her back into the parlor.

"Hey, where you off to?" said Forbes, disgruntled at being left behind with the fifty year old. "She said to watch them!"

"She said to keep them entertained," the other thug retorted with a grin.

Desperately the Fox tried to summon her bracelets to her via the psionic link she had with them, but she still felt jittery and twitchy all over from the aftereffects of Scathe's fear pheromones. Unable to concentrate, all she could do was close her eyes and bide her time, hoping that the butterflies would soon go away.

The thug plopped her down on the sofa, raising a slight cloud of dust. "Now what can we do to pass the time, luv?" he sneered, as he reached for her.

The Fox pushed herself away against the cushions, alarmed and afraid. "S-stay away from me," she warned, but her voice was that of a weak, ineffectual girl.

"Not hardly, sweetcakes," the thug said, as his big hands went around her hips and yanked her bottom towards him so that she landed flat on her back on the sofa. "I ain't never had American pussy, I bet it's sweet and juicy..."
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Chapter 5 --

"Please... don't..." the Fuchsia Fox whimpered, struggling feebly as the thug pinned her shapely legs and fondled her through the fabric of her scanty costume. Trembling with fear, the feel of his rough hands on her defenseless breasts terrified her and disgusted her, while at the same time a white hot surge of adrenalin ran racing along every vein and sinew of her body. Her helplessness was thrilling, exciting... her pussy was shivering with anticipation, her panties damp with arousal.

"N-no..." she moaned, shaking her head in desperate denial, "please no..."

"Come on then, skank," the man grunted, as his groping hands slid underneath her, cupping her supple round buttocks as he felt for the waistband of her briefs. "Let's see what you got under them knickers!" With a practiced movement Gilroy hooked his fingers into her panties and pulled them down to her knees.

"Please..." the Fox begged, writhing with panic as she felt her smooth, bare bottom rubbing against the dusty sofa. Her attacker undid the back tied of her halter top and pulled it up, exposing her two sweet naked little coconuts as shoved the fabric into her mouth to stifle her protests.

The helpless heroine felt assaulted on all sides by tantalizing sensations... the appalling strength the horny thug's body as he ground her into the moldy sofa, the feel of his masculine hands massaging her vulnerable tits, the throbbing heat of her own pulse as she fought back in vain... all powerful sensations and all equally impossible to resist.

"Now what we got here?" Gilroy hissed, as his hands slid along her creamy hips and pushed her thighs apart. A groan escaped the girl's lips as he grabbed her snatch, fingers seeking out her feminine wetness. "Oh yeah gimme some of that swank!"

"Mmmmmhh..." the heroine pleaded, her voice muffled by her makeshift gag as her hips arched submissively towards the henchman's hand on their own. An eternity later, she heard him undo his belt and drop his trousers, felt his rough fingers rubbing the moistened portals of her slit. A wave of dizziness seemed to envelop her all at once. Still feeling the fear from Scathe's touch, she couldn't struggle, she couldn't resist. Her body was his for the taking! A tide of pure longing swept over her as she ceased struggling and closed her eyes, ready to accept whatever he wanted to do with her...

"WHAT do you think you're doing?" a chilly female voice demanded suddenly, figuratively throwing a cold bucket of water over the thug's libido. Ms. Grimshaw was standing at the entrance of the parlor, holding a hypodermic syringe.

"Er, well, it's like this..." Gilroy began, quickly climbing off the Fox and hitching his trousers up. Forbes, the other henchman, who had been standing in the study doorway drooling, scratched his ear and turned away sheepishly.

"I told you to WATCH them, not to BOINK them!"

"You said--"

"Never mind!" Grimshaw said, clenching her eyes shut as if she had a painful migraine. "I don't want to hear it! You can attend to your carnal urges later. I require a volunteer to test my grandfather's serum, and you're elected, Gilroy!"

He eyed the syringe in her hand with distrust as he fastened his trows. "Hey, boss-lady, it's been lying in that desk since the forties! Are you sure it's safe?"

"Of course it's safe!" Taking his acquiescence entirely for granted, she reached for his beefy arm. The henchman flinched until he saw that she was wearing rubber gloves. Resigned, he stood quietly while she wrapped a strip of thin rubber around his forearm, cinching it tight. Thumping the skin inside of his elbow, she found a vein and jabbed the needle in.

"Here, you'd better sit down," she said, withdrawing the syringe. "How do you feel?"

"O-okay I guess..." Gilroy admitted, lowering himself into a wooden armchair which Forbes brought for him.

With the attention of both Forbes and Grimshaw focused on him, the Fox labored to get her breathing under control. Her heart was still pounding. Painfully the helpless superheroine curled her legs and struggled to push herself into a sitting position. It was not easy with her arms tied behind her.

Suddenly Mrs. Buxton materialized beside her, trembling and fussing over her.

"You poor thing," the older woman muttered, hands shaking. "Let me help..." Casting a fearful glance at the villains, she gently helped the Fox to sit up. Then took the girl's halter top out of her mouth and apologetically tried to arrange it to cover her two firm youthful breasts, blushing discreetly and trying not to notice how hard her nipples were, or how hot and flushed the young superheroine's smooth, velvet skin was. "Did he hurt you very much?" she asked, helping to put her briefs up.

"Ohhhhh," the Fox moaned, her arms aching savagely where she had been lying on them. "More my... pride... than anything else..."

"What are we going to do?" the antiques dealer whispered, overwrought. "If only the police would hurry up and rescue us..."

The Fuchsia Fox felt her cheeks burning with shame. She wanted to tell Mrs. Buxton that the police were NOT on the way, that no one knew about their predicament because she was cocky enough to think that she could handle Ms. Grimshaw on her own! But she couldn't. After her less than spectacular showing... ok, ok, her humiliating shellacking if you wanted to be blunt about it... the superheroine just couldn't bring herself to say it...

If only she could get her bracelets back!

The very thought of them brought her back to Ms. Grimshaw, hovering around her henchman like a mother hen as she took his pulse. She was wearing rubber gloves to avoid inadvertent skin contact. But she was NOT wearing the bracelets of Ishtar! She must have taken them off to work and left them upstairs in her laboratory! Jennifer closed her eyes and began to concentrate. Maybe the hormonal rush from Gilroy's assault had flushed the fear from her system. Maybe...

"AAAAHHHHHHHH!" Gilroy suddenly shouted, doubling over.

"What's wrong? Tell me!" Grimshaw said anxiously.

"My guts!" he grunted. "Like they're... on fire!"

The exposed skin of his torso had taken on an oily sheen as sweat oozed out of his pores. Hairs seemed to suddenly sprout from the thug's back as he expanded like a balloon. "MAKE IT STOP!!!" he yelled, rearing up to full height and throwing Ms. Grimshaw across the room with his out flung arm. "STOP!!!"

His trousers ripped and fell away. Gilroy's entire body was now covered with wiry reddish fur, the muscles of his arms and legs twice as thick as they had been before, his frame nearly seven feet tall! But his eyes... his eyes were red with rage!
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Chapter 6 --

Forbes leaped forward to restrain his partner, but Gilroy was beyond restraint. He was monstrously strong now. With hardly any visible effort, he threw Forbes off of him and slammed the thug into the floor again and again.

"MAKE... STOP!!!" he roared again, flailing around the room blindly, smashing furniture right and left. In his frenzy he picked up the sofa on which the Fuchsia Fox and Mrs. Buxton were sitting, quivering and helpless with horror. Hardly noticing the insubstantial weight of two frail females, he hoisted the sofa onto his shoulder, aiming it towards the windows.

"Gilroy! Cease this at once!" Scathe had risen to her feet, throwing aside her black skirt and stripping off her rubber gloves. "Let me help you! I can take the fear away! I can make it stop!" Gently, soothingly, she reached out to caress his massive arm.

"You... hurt!" the thug rumbled, remembering only the times she had inflicted fear on him in order to control him. Furious, he lunged at her, letting the sofa drop.

"ISHTAR!" cried a shrill voice, as Jennifer finally made mental contact with her bracelets. The artifacts appeared on her slender wrists with a brilliant flash of power, the cords binding her hands parting like threads as she caught Mrs. Buxton and whisked her to the foyer out of harm's way.

"Goodness!" the antiques dealer breathed, flustered.

"Get out of the house, Mrs. Buxton," the Fuchsia Fox advised her, already turning back to face the monster.

Gilroy had picked up Scathe in both hands like a doll, plucking at her skimpy black body suit as he fondled her tits, drool dripping from his lips. The woman was hanging limp, apparently passed out.

Without another thought, the Fox charged. Grabbing his wrist, she pried one hand off of Scathe. With a punch like a battering ram, he sent the sexy superheroine stumbling helplessly into the remains of the sofa, but in the process he dropped his victim. Then with another roar of anger, he turned and smashed through the outside wall of the house as if it were straw. In seconds, he was gone.

"Are you all right, young woman?" Mrs. Buxton asked anxiously.

"Why are you still here?" the Fox gasped. "I told you to get out!"

"I... I was too afraid to move," the older woman confessed. Her eyes lit on Scathe. "Is she dead?"

"Just knocked out," the stunning young supergirl said, kneeling over her and feeling the pulse at her slender throat. "Look, Mrs. Buxton, it's dangerous here! The limo's under the carport. If you can't find the keys, try to get to another house and call the sheriff's department..."

The older woman looked terrified. "A-aren't you coming with me?"

"I have to go after Gilroy," the Fox said, using Scathe's skirt to tie the English woman's hands. "In the state he's in, he could hurt someone."

"He certainly could!" agreed Mrs. Buxton. "He could hurt YOU! Why not wait for the police, and let the men deal with it?"

"Wish me luck," was the girl's only reply, as she wondered to herself why the life of a superheroine couldn't be an easy one. Without another word, she soared through the jagged hole he had left in the wall.

Following Gilroy did not present much of a problem at first, since he had left a broken fence and a rose trellis in a path straight to the creek behind the house. Staying airborne, the Fox flew low over the thick trees lining the watercourse on both sides. Seeing what she thought was movement, she dropped through the canopy and landed at the edge of the creek, searching for signs of him.

The stream split into two tributaries here, and in between them was an expanse of shallow swamp. Straight boles of trees grew all around like pillars in some outdoor cathedral. The spunky superlady took a cautious step and felt her ankle boot heel sink an inch into the soft earth.

Suddenly there was a grunt behind her as Gilroy stepped out from the foliage, not more than three yards away! He looked even bigger and more horrifying out in the open! "It's all right," the Fox told him reassuringly. "We can help you! Let me take you to a hosp--"

"Hurt... you!" He charged!

Without thinking, the stunning superheroine stepped backward in reflex, her high heels sagging in the mud. With a feminine squeak of distress, she stumbled to the ground, flat on her pert little butt. The monster was on her in heartbeat! At the last second, the Fox kicked upward with her right leg, catching him in the chest and stopping his progress, giving her time to scramble to her feet again.

"Not much for conversation are you?" she quipped. "Okay, if that's the way you want it..." Leaping into the air, the Fox aimed her left foot at his jaw... and missed.

"HURT..." he growled, as his hand caught hold of her silken calf.

"HEY!" the spunky heroine cried as the thug yanked her out of the sky and down within his reach, grappling with her. Both hairy arms clasped tightly around her trim waist, crushing her lissome body against his chest.

"Nnnngh! No!" the Fox groaned, fingers groping in his coarse fur as she struggled to break free of his hug. Bringing both fists down on the sides of his neck, the young heroine got him to loosen his embrace enough to push down against his broad shoulders and squeeze her supple frame out of his arms.

Drawing back her fist, the Fox gave him her best roundhouse punch to the jaw. Her attacker staggered back, but before she could hit him again, his flailing arm clipped her in the side, flinging the sexy superlady against the bole of a cypress tree. In the next second, he was swarming over her again, and with a SPLASH! they both went into the swamp, the monster on top.

"Grab... squeeze..." he muttered, pushing her head underwater, holding her down with his big hands fondling her breasts.

Some things never change, the Fox thought frantically, holding her breath as she struggled, kicking and squirming underneath him, her body squelching into the thick, soupy mud, cold ooze seeping into crevasses. With a supreme effort the spunky girl wrenched his hands free long enough to break the surface, her short brunette hair flinging water in all directions as the heroine gulped in a lungful of precious air. But then he was shoving her helplessly under once more.

While she struggled, she could feel him tugging at her clothes. His groping fingers found the back of her halter. In one savage motion he peeled the clingy garment off of her and threw it aside, leaving her two gorgeous nubbins to bob free and unprotected!

Suddenly the Fox felt something thick and stiff rubbing against her bare thighs under the water. His boner! Obviously some part of Gilroy was still in there! Even now, while she was flat on her back and fighting for her life, he was trying to mount her!

NO! She was the daughter of Ishtar, and there was no way she was letting some Swamp Thing have a go at HER body! "Fat chance!" the heroine gasped, breaking the surface again. Bracing her arms as best she could in the mud beneath her for leverage, she twisted underneath him brought her knee up into his swollen balls! Gilroy let out a moan of surprise and let go of his grip.

The Fox took full advantage of his lapse, wriggling out of his hands and giving him a roundhouse left. As he reached one shaggy arm for her, the agile young superheroine seized his wrist and flung him over her shoulder back onto solid ground. From there the fight went all her way... punching, kicking, gracefully dodging his clumsy blows until she wore him out.

With a final groan, he collapsed onto the grass, rapidly shedding his fur coat as the effects of the steroid wore off and his musculature returned to normal. He was lying stretched out and unconscious, just a regular hoodlum, although a naked one.

***

Epilogue --

When the Fuchsia Fox returned to the Fossbender house with Gilroy slung over her shoulder, three sheriff's cars were already there. Mrs. Buxton quickly explained that she had used Ms. Grimshaw's cell phone to call them.

A fourth car pulled up with a male reporter/photographer from the local newspaper, just as the deputies were handcuffing Grimshaw and Forbes, taking their time with the beautiful villainess, carefully searching her in case she might be carrying weapons concealed somewhere in her scanty little black body suit.

"Watch her hands!" the superheroine warned them. "Make sure she doesn't get the chance to touch anyone. In fact, I'd make her wear gloves, just to make sure. And get some reinforced chains for her henchmen. They're stronger than they look."

Grimshaw glared at her with those ice green eyes. "We will meet again, Fuchsia Fox!" she threatened as she was put into the back seat of one of the cars. "Count on it!"

Jennifer was too exhausted to think up a clever quip just then, so she just sighed.

"You're the Fuchsia Fox?" the reporter blurted. "Ebbie Carswell at the Clerk of Court's office told me he'd seen a sweet, delicious goddess with a mouth-watering pair of... er... but I never thought..." He broke off as he and the deputies gave her the once over.

Jennifer ruefully followed their gaze. Of course, she was soaked to the skin from her dunking in the creek. Her skimpy little costume was splattered with rapidly drying mud, her body streaked with it, and in fact she could feel it oozing inside her unmentionables. Her hair looked like a tangled mop. Oh for the glamorous life of a superheroine!

"You're not exactly catching me at my best," she said, grinning. "Do any of you know someplace I can get a shower?"

Every single man in sight quickly raised his hand.


The END>>>>>>
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valugi
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chapter is going well, looking forward to reading more
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I suddenly got an idea last week for a Halloween story featuring a vengeful ghost and a horde of undead minions. So hopefully I'll be able to finish it in time to start posting next week. (Plus, coming soon... the return of Vanessa Kensington!)
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Can't wait for VK.

As an arachnaphobe myself I hated the spider bit, :cry:
But then I suppose that's evidence of how well you wrote it. I'm not quite sure why, but I expected it to be a longer yarn, perhaps with more fear control manifesting itself and maybe a bit more about her uncle and his research, and maybe a bit about why she wanted it and what she was going to do with it, so I was a little surprised when it ended.
But it's an enjoyable yarn well told as always(with no English phrases to correct! :thumbup: )
and I liked it, good job!

Your Halloween offering sounds interesting.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.

I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
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I get what you're saying, but I try to keep my stories fairly simple and to the point, like a comic book. Maybe Scathe will return some day.

As for the Halloween story, I don't usually like to start posting a story until it's completely finished (writer's block can strike any time and any place), but in this case I'm going to make an exception, hoping that it will encourage other people to come up with Halloween type stories.
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