Fuchsia Fox: “Whoever Has the Most Toys”
Prologue — Alexandria, Virginia
The sun shone down brightly on the marina, on one of those clear summer afternoons that made you glad to be alive. Larry Dalton, tending bar on his pleasure boat Floating Asset, couldn’t help grinning as he poured out three martinis, at the same time hearing the sound of bare feet and feminine giggles coming up the companionway from the cabin below. Two girls appeared wearing very small triangle bikinis, one turquoise, the other orange, leaving little to the imagination.
“How do I look, Mr. Dalton?” giggled Tina (or was it Sara? he couldn’t keep them straight), brushing a lock of her short hair shyly behind her ear. “See anything you like?” asked Sara (or Tina), turning a pirouette to show off her nubile young body from every angle.
“You both look marvelous!” Dalton enthused, handing them both drinks.
“I love your boat!” gushed one of the girls, taking a gulp of her martini. “Yeah, it’s great!” echoed the other, as they moved toward the open deck.
“It ought to be; it cost me enough,” Dalton said, as he slid between them, draping one arm around the trim waist on either side. “Later we’ll take her out and open her up. I’ll show you how fast she can go.” He slapped their rumps playfully, and as the girls giggled in response, he turned back toward the bar to pick up his martini.
Just then his phone, which he had left on the bar, rang. He picked it up. “Yeah? Reiner? I’m glad you called. There’s a problem with one of our runners. You know as well as I do that in an operation like ours, if one guy gets greedy, he can ruin it for everybody…” As he spoke, he became aware of a buzzing sound outside. It sounded almost like a lawnmower or a hedge trimmer. The shrill, nagging sound was starting to get annoying, in fact. “You need to… Hey Reiner, give me a second…” Dalton said, putting the phone down and going out on deck.
Tina and Sara were standing up, holding their drinks in one hand and shading their eyes with the other as they watched two toy remote control airplanes — two silver P-51 Mustangs, apparently chasing one another, dipping and banking along the marina. Dalton smiled as they buzzed past, and then turned to go back inside.
The toy airplanes suddenly banked around and came back, staying in formation as they dived at the boat. Dalton could see them getting closer and closer… POP-POP-POP-POP! A line of bullet holes appeared in the deck, ripping up his beautiful teak. They were SHOOTING at him! Tina and Sara screamed shrilly. Dalton scrambled for cover as bullets chewed up the fiberglass wall of cabin, narrowly missing him.
The buzzing sound of the two engines raised up the small hairs on the back of Dalton’s neck as he watched the airplanes pass by, do a figure eight and return for another strafing run. “Oh my God,” he whimpered, looking frantically around for something heavy he could hide behind. The bar! He was moving in that direction when the planes came back. POP-POP-POP-POP!!! Bottles smashed, glass shards flying everywhere as two neat lines of bullets bracketed him perfectly. He felt one hit his leg, causing him to go down hard on the deck. Bleeding, he balled up in a fetal position, jabbering in fear while the shrill buzzing got closer and closer…
Something round crashed through the open doorway, hit the deck and rolled. Dalton couldn’t believe his eyes! A bomb?! His heart was hammering in his chest. Frozen with terror, all he could do was stare at the thing sitting six inches from his face, waiting for it to explode.
POP! The shell of the bomb just cracked open like an egg. Inside was a card: “Next time will be LETHAL! The Toymaker”
Chapter 1 — Washington, D.C.
A taxicab pulled up outside the terminal at Ronald Reagan Airport. “I don’t suppose you could wait?” asked the pretty brunette girl in the back seat, leaning forward and handing the driver money to cover the fare plus a dollar and a half tip. Before he could answer, she had scooted out the door, leaving him with a very memorable view of her departing jeans-clad butt.
The taxi driver bit his lip as he watched her disappear inside the terminal. The girl was wearing reddish-purple sneakers, loose-fit jeans, and a clingy gray pullover shirt with three buttons up the front. The top two buttons had been left undone, making it fairly obvious that she didn’t have a bra on under it. In fact, he had spent more than half the drive from Pentagon City staring through the rear-view mirror at her matched pair of perky little coconuts while she talked about her sister she was going to pick up at the airport. At one point, when she had leaned forward to check out an ambulance cruising past, he had nearly swerved into a cement truck on the opposite side.
The very thought of driving around a pair of sisters who looked like that made him squirm in his seat. Unfortunately, a waiting passenger slipped into the cab at that point, and he couldn’t wait for her to come back. Damn; maybe next time.
Meanwhile, Jennifer Fletcher had met her sister inside the terminal. “Ashley!” she cried, running to hug the red-haired girl about her same age wearing a navy-blue shirtdress with half sleeves.
“Jennifer!” her stepsister cried. “Let me look at you!”
For a long time, the two girls just stood there holding one another tightly. As kids, back home in Augusta Georgia, they had been inseparable ever since Jennifer’s father had remarried when she was twelve and the only child suddenly found herself with an eleven-year-old sister. But since going off to college, they had drifted apart. These days they only saw one another at Thanksgiving or Christmas, and only called or wrote on birthdays.
At least part of the reason for that was painfully obvious to Jennifer. She had a big secret now — a super-powered alter ego who flew around in a cute spandex outfit. She had never been good at keeping secrets from Ashley, and this was one that she simply couldn’t burden her sister with, so from that point of view, the less contact they had, the better… however much it sucked.
“Gosh, you look wonderful!” Ashley said. “Big city life seems to agree with you.”
“I can’t complain,” the brunette said modestly. “Let’s get your luggage! I asked a cab if he could wait, but if it’s going to be a while –”
“This is it,” the redhead said, picking up her briefcase and overnight bag. “I only came to deliver some papers to a client of the bank I work at. They were going to hire a courier, but somebody remembered that I had a stepsister who lives in Washington, so here I am. I can only stay a couple of days, then I’ve got to get back.”
“Awwww!” Jennifer moaned, taking the bag from her. “Well, if that’s all you’ve got, we can take the Metro; there’s a station right across the street. You’re going to love our apartment! It’s got a great view of the river! Then after you freshen up, we can see the sights! You’ve got to come to the Archives and see the Declaration of Independence–”
“Hey, slow down,” Ashley laughed. “I can’t ask you to go to work on your day off.”
“Are you kidding?” Jenn said. “How many people can get you a back-stage pass to the Restoration Room? I’d stay all the time if they didn’t kick me out and lock the doors on me.”
The two sisters reminisced about high school and generally got caught up on what had been going on in each other’s lives as they rode to the apartment. Once there, they kicked off their shoes, Jenn poured them each a glass of wine, and they went out on the balcony.
“How are you and Rick?” Jennifer asked innocently.
Ashley seemed to freeze up. “Uh… well… to tell you the truth, that’s why I took this little trip. I wanted to get away by myself for a couple of days and think about things.”
“Oh no, Ash!” Jenn moaned.
“Now, don’t get excited,” the redhead said quickly. “It’s just a general feeling of… did we do the right thing, you know? They say all married couples go through this once the butterflies wear off. You and your soldier boy will find that out for yourself.”
“Ash, I don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Ashley said, softly squeezing her hand. “Remember when Tommy Orwell broke up with me in eighth grade? I came crying to my big sister. This is the same thing.”
They stood on the balcony in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the boats go by on the distant river. “Well, tell you what,” Ashley said briskly, reaching for her purse. “I’ve got a phone number to call, to arrange with the client where to deliver his papers. We can get this business out of the way and go sight-seeing.”
Ashley made the call and was given an address in Alexandria. Twenty minutes later the two sisters were in a taxicab, making their way through the business district of that city. Disembarking in front of a tall office building, they briskly walked inside the lobby together. Once through the metal detectors inside the entrance, Jennifer went straight for the directory.
“There it is,” she said. “Lawrence Dalton, Attorney at Law. Seventeenth floor.”
“He said he’d try to meet us in the lobby,” Ashley said. “Let’s give him a couple of minutes.” And at that moment, the elevators opened, and among the passengers getting out was a man in a business suit and walking with the aid of a cane. He looked around the lobby expectantly and almost immediately his eyes latched onto the briefcase she was carrying.
“Are you Mr. Dalton?” she asked, smiling. “I’m Ashley Johnson of Kingsborough Bank. May I see some identification?”
“Oh yes, of course,” the lawyer said, fumbling his wallet from his breast pocket. “Forgive me; it’s just that I need these documents quickly. You’ve saved my life, honestly you have.”
While Ashley and Mr. Dalton went through the whole procedure of verifying his identity, signing for the papers, then handing the package over to him, Jennifer politely stood back, looking absently at the people coming and going in the lobby.
A white-bearded older man wearing a long black overcoat came hobbling through the doors. He took one look at the metal detector and shook his head firmly. Jennifer couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he was clearly arguing with the two security guards about the procedure. “It won’t hurt you, old man,” one of the guards said, taking a grip on his elbow. “It’ll be over before you know it. Let’s just see what you’ve got under this coat…”
“NO!” the old man said, loudly enough to draw Jennifer’s attention. Her people skills honed by working as a Smithsonian tour guide, the pretty brunette turned in that direction, ready to offer her assistance should the need arise.
The guard was struggling with him now, tugging his overcoat open. In the confusion, a gun fell out and hit the floor. From what Jennifer could see, it wasn’t an ordinary gun, either. It looked like something Flash Gordon would have carried around in an old movie serial. But the guards only saw what looked like a weapon. “Okay, guy!” one of the men said, as the other drew his Taser. “Off with the coat!”
“You HAD to interfere, didn’t you?” the old man said angrily, stepping back a pace or two and drawing from his coat… a brightly colored rubber ball. He bounced it once, twice on the floor, then he bounced it toward the guard who was pointing the Taser at him.
The ball hit the floor, whizzed past the bewildered guard like a bullet and ricocheted off the wall behind him, picking up speed with every impact. By the time it hit him in the back of the head it was going fast enough to knock the guard out. As he dropped, the ball, having lost most of the kinetic energy it had picked up, fell to the floor, bouncing slowly but reaching a little higher with each bounce.
“What kind of trick is this?” said the other guard, drawing his automatic pistol. The old man almost casually swatted the rubber ball with his hand as it rose within reach. The toy shot all the way across the lobby, narrowly missing Jennifer as it recoiled from the opposite wall and came back. The guard ducked frantically as the ball smashed through the metal detector apparatus like a cannonball, rebounded off the other wall, and smacked him in the breadbasket, knocking the breath out of him.
The old man picked up the now quiescent ball and stuffed it back into the pocket of his overcoat. Then he picked up the Flash Gordon ray-gun and turned with dignity toward the lobby.
“Lawrence Dalton,” he announced, pointing the ray-gun at the horrified lawyer. “Time for you to die.”
Chapter 2 –
It had happened so fast! The bystanders in the lobby panicked and ran in all directions. The old man let them go, keeping the gun trained on Larry Dalton, who seemed frozen with fear. Ashley was clinging to the lawyer’s arm as if out of reflex.
Jennifer was the only one not completely paralyzed by fear, having had the experience of being threatened more than just a time or two. Her instinct was to slip away and change into her Fuchsia Fox costume, but she couldn’t just leave Ashley. “Ash? Come on…” she whispered, grabbing her sister’s arm.
“Stay where you are!” commanded the old man, keeping all three of them covered with his toy ray-gun. “Hands up where I can see them.”
Jennifer carefully raised her hands, feeling helpless, her heart thumping like a drum in between her firm little breasts. Her golden bracelets of Ishtar were in her fanny pack, where they did her no good at all! She had to play for time until she could somehow get to them. To her left, she saw Ashley compliantly raising her hands.
The old man reached up and removed the fake white beard and plastic mask he had been wearing all this time. His real face was of indeterminate age, not exactly Caucasian and not exactly Asian, graced with a neatly trimmed red beard.
“Ah, Mr. Abroth,” Dalton said, almost simpering as he hobbled forward on his cane. “I’m glad you–”
The old man pulled the trigger on his toy ray-gun. Sparks flew from the barrel, and it must have fired some sort of invisible projectile or energy ray which struck the floor at Dalton’s feet with another crash of sparks, gouging a small crater in the tiles. “The name is Abiroth N’gai,” he said. “If that’s too difficult, you can call me the Toymaker.”
“As I was saying,” Dalton said, straightening his tie. He took the package from Ashley which he had just finished signing for. “I have money. Five hundred thousand dollars in negotiable bearer bonds. It’s yours.”
“Do you think I can be BOUGHT?” the Toymaker glared. “No, Mr. Dalton. I’ve come for my pound of flesh.” He raised the toy Flash Gordon ray-gun and aimed it directly at the lawyer’s heart.
The sound of police sirens suddenly broke into the scene as a squad car pulled up in front of the building, blue lights flashing. Dalton seized upon the distraction to move quickly, grabbing Jennifer by the wrist and yanking the slender brunette girl in front of himself as a human shield.
“Coward,” Jennifer hissed, a rose-red blush coloring her cheeks as the lawyer grabbed her pert little boobs in order to hold her steady in front of him.
“Just keep your hands up, doll,” he whispered in her ear, limping backward slowly in the direction of the elevator. “I’m so glad you decided not to wear a bra today.”
The girl fumed silently, but staring down the business end of that ray-gun, she had no choice; she kept her hands raised, giving him free rein to fondle her.
“What’s it going to be, old man?” Dalton said to their captor. “Are you going to take the money, or would you rather kill this girl in the process of getting to me?”
The Toymaker had no time to make up his mind. The two police officers were even now cautiously shouldering their way through the entrance with their side-arms drawn. “This isn’t the last of me,” he said, stepping smoothly aside and seizing Ashley by the waist. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her body as she fell into his arms. “I’ll just take your secretary as a hostage instead of you. But I’ll be back.”
“Wait! She’s not–” Jennifer protested, but the villain had slipped the ray-gun into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a toy top. With a flick, he set the object spinning across the floor, spewing out the most god-awful hyper-sonic scream imaginable. Jennifer covered her delicate ears, her head almost splitting from the cacophony. The high decibels seemed to have a tranquilizing effect; she felt herself getting sleepy as Dalton held on even more tightly to her chest.
The top whirled in an arc toward the entrance, the noise holding off the advancing policemen long enough for the Toymaker to hoist Ashley over his shoulder and make a dash down the side corridor.
Moments later, the top wound down and fell silent. The policemen recovered and ran off in pursuit of the Toymaker. Jennifer could move again! The girl snatched Dalton’s hand off of her breasts, twisting around out of his reach. “That was a cowardly thing to do, letting him think my sister meant something to you!”
“By the time he figures it out…” the lawyer said with a grin, gathering up the package of securities from the floor, “well, I’ll have thought of something else.”
Giving him a look of loathing, Jennifer turned and ran down the corridor. Once she was out of sight, the pretty brunette ducked into the ladies’ room to change.
The policemen meanwhile had made it to the rear entrance of the building, which their quarry had apparently glued shut with silly string. The two men pounded on the doors. Putting their shoulders into it, they finally got the door open. In the alley, the Toymaker had placed his captive into a rusty old vintage station wagon and climbed into the driver’s seat. The officers drew their side-arms as they raced down the steps, but he was too far off! He was going to make his getaway…
Just then the Fuchsia Fox appeared overhead! Gracefully the beautiful superheroine alit on the sidewalk behind the station wagon, her brunette hair fluttering around her bare shoulders like a cascade of silk. Her heavenly bod was dressed in a tiny reddish-purple wraparound miniskirt which swished sweetly around her gorgeous thighs. Above her toned midriff rode a matching halter top, her distinctive fox head chest emblem lovingly following the delicious contours of her bust. Her long, lean legs bare down to her ankle boots, her slim arms clad in elbow length gloves.
“All right, sparky,” the Fox said smugly. “That’s as far as you get!”
The Toymaker muttered almost to himself, “I thought that I might eventually have to deal with you, my dear,” as he pushed a button on the console. The rear hatch of the station wagon flipped open and out rolled a… well, it looked like an inflatable man made giant marshmallow, standing about six and half feet tall and about the same width with its fat, outstretched arms!
The Fox almost laughed, it looked so ridiculous with a silly grin painted on its face. But it was blocking her way to the Toymaker’s getaway car. “Stand aside, chubs,” the cocky superheroine said, throwing out her right hand to brush it out of her way as she strode haughtily forward.
The marshmallow man bounded toward her, its rotund, blimp-like body slamming into the Fox like an enormous punching bag. The sexy supergirl staggered, her slim frame thrown almost off its feet by the unexpected weight of it. “Hey, back off!” she said, bracing herself to take a punch at it.
Its smooth hide was tough, and it gave with her punch like elastic. The skin snapped back as the marshmallow man bobbed forward again. This time the impact did send the Fox sprawling on her delightful ass on the sidewalk, while the policemen slowed to a halt, watching the fight.
“If that’s the way you want it,” the superheroine muttered, cheeks burning as she scrambled to her feet and charged.
The marshmallow man met her lunge and its blubbery form somehow engulfed her. The Fox penetrated its skin, which then instantly sealed behind her, trapping her inside a mass of thick, milky ooze, almost like semen. Yuck! Her silken skin crawled at the sensation of being swallowed up in the unknown jelly-like substance, ensnared by it, feeling it ooze glutinously over her bare skin and in between her legs, almost as if it were alive.
Frantically Jennifer tried punching, but the marshmallow man gave with it, quivering like a gigantic tub of Jell-O. Trapped inside its balloon-like shape, she had no leverage. She felt the pressure of the stuff on her body, squeezing her nubile young breasts, choking off her ability to breathe freely. She had to break out of it or she could suffocate!
Closing her eyes, the Fox concentrated on her flying ability, releasing gravitons to thrust her body forward. Her skin shivered as she felt her body slide through the sticky ooze, causing the whole marshmallow man to roll along with her. She felt the sludgy mass seep between her thighs, pressing against her cleft. Desperately she slammed the blimpy object into the brick wall of the building across the alley, bouncing off and directing her flight toward the other wall again and again. The marshmallow man couldn’t take the pressure. It burst, showering the area with its thick, milky substance and dropping the Fox to the sidewalk.
The battle had drawn a crowd of bystanders in addition to the two policemen. “Oh man that was…” one of the officers said, as they rushed to the Fox’s assistance and helped the sexy super-lady up, her nubile body still dripping with that sticky white semen. “… that was HOT!”
But the Toymaker had long ago made his escape. While everyone was focused on the battle, he had driven away. Safely around the corner, he had pressed a button on his console. The outer panels of the station wagon unfolded, reshaped and folded back, transforming the rusty vintage automobile into a floral delivery truck. He smiled as he lost himself in the traffic.
Chapter 3 –
The police had secured the lobby of the building. The two guards who had been knocked out by the bouncing rubber ball were treated by paramedics and released, badly bruised and shaken up but with no bones broken. Larry Dalton was sitting on the bench next to the elevators while the police went through the package of bonds, the forensics unit took photographs of the damage the Toymaker had done to the lobby, and a plainclothes detective questioned witnesses.
This was the scene as the Fuchsia Fox strode through the entrance (after a quick shower in the employee’s locker room to get that white gunk off).
“Oh great,” the detective hissed, as everyone stopped what they were doing to gawk at the stunning superheroine’s long, lean body, admiring the exquisitely feminine sway of her hips as she crossed the lobby dressed in that delicious, traffic-stopping costume of hers.
He scowled as he went to meet her, showing her his badge. “My name is Sergeant Larkin, Alexandria P.D. I know the D.C. police are in the habit of giving you a lot of leeway, babe. But this is not a job for fashion models.”
“I’m not here to take over, detective,” the Fox said softly, flashing her brown, doe-like eyes at him. “I just want to offer you whatever help I can give.”
Larkin’s stance noticeably softened. “Come on, then,” he said, leading the way over to Dalton, who was staring amorously at the Fox with a huge grin on his face. “Your name is Dalton, is that right? Lawrence Dalton, suite 1720?”
“Yes, yes, I told the officers all this,” the lawyer said impatiently, his eyes fixed on the Fox’s lovely little breasts, jutting proudly forward against her chest emblem. The heroine folded her arms underneath her bust, enhancing the effect rather than covering it up.
“Witnesses said that a man was pointing a gun at you, threatening to kill you.”
“Oh that…” Dalton nervously cleared his throat, tugging at his necktie. “That was a… it was a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding,” Larkin repeated. He let his gaze wander to the hole that had been burned in the floor of the lobby by the Toymaker’s pistol, which the forensics team was examining. “What about the two young women who were with you? Can they verify this? Or were they a part of the misunderstanding?”
“There were, uh… they were nobody important…”
“Nobody important?” the Fox said heatedly, her fist clenching. “What about the young woman who was taken hostage? What about HER?” Steady, Jennifer. she told herself desperately. You won’t help anything by letting your emotions run away with you. In fact she was terrified about what that maniac might do to Ashley, but this was one situation in which physical threats would probably be of no use.
“The fact is, I don’t know this guy from Adam,” the lawyer said, ignoring the heroine’s outburst. “Can I go now? I’ve got a very important appointment.”
At this point, a second plainclothes detective came out of the elevator. He whispered something to Larkin, showing him something written in his notebook.
“My partner has been talking to your secretary,” Larkin said. “She recognized the security footage of this old man. She says his name is Abiroth N’gai, and she’s seen him in your office on several occasions.”
“Oh, THAT Abiroth N’gai!” Dalton said, abruptly switching gears. “We had a business arrangement for a while, but that’s ancient history. I mean, if you saw the guy, he’s dangerously unstable…”
“Dangerously unstable?” the Fox echoed, her cheeks red. “In that case, you’d better cooperate with us in finding him!”
“I, uh… don’t think I should say any more,” the lawyer said calmly, “without my own attorney present.” He licked his lips, his eyes moved down the superheroine’s body and staring at the edge of her miniskirt where it circled her heavenly thighs. “On the other hand, if you could make it worth my while, we may be able to help each other out. Say, my boat, in half an hour? Wearing the sexiest baby-doll nightie you own? Your tits look beautiful enough to eat, and I bet your pussy is as sweet as a peach!”
The Fox flushed crimson. Larkin scowled, “Get him out of here!”
As he and his partner turned to listen to the report of the forensics men, Jennifer couldn’t help thinking about what the lawyer had said. The idea of giving herself sexually to a scumbag like that was truly disgusting, but she was frantic about finding Ashley. What if that was the only way to locate her before it was too late?
“This impact crater was not made by a bullet,” the forensics officer said. “We’re talking about a concentrated flash ion beam. Heavy protons, almost instantaneous. Did you say it was a hand-held weapon?”
“That’s what the witnesses say.” said Larkin.
“Unbelievable. I wouldn’t think it would hold enough energy for more than one or two shots. And it’s probably emitting gamma rays like there’s no tomorrow.”
“How does that help us locate him?” asked Larkin’s partner.
“I don’t know,” the forensics guy shrugged.
Detective Larkin let out a heavy sigh. “I guess that’s it, Fox,” he said. “Unless you have any bright ideas?” This last was said in such a condescending tone that the stunning superheroine bristled.
“Who, me?” the Fox said. “I’ll be in touch.” She swept out the door and took to the sky, trying to think if she knew any tech geeks who owed her favors.
Chapter 4 –
Twenty minutes later, the Fuchsia Fox was cooling her lovely heels in a penthouse office in Hillcrest Heights, Maryland. She had briefly explained her problem to Gordon Gieseck, CEO of G-Wiz Technologies and the only tech genius she knew off hand. The skinny nerd had sprung into action, going straight to the Internet to access his own proprietary geophysical satellite.
“Gee whiz, there it is,” he said, pointing at a red dot on the screen, located southwest of Alexandria, out past West Springfield. “Your hunch was right. Whatever kind of gun your guy’s using, it’s spitting out gamma rays like there’s no tomorrow.”
“That’s what I figured,” the Fox said breathlessly. “Can you narrow it down any closer than that?”
“Give me a second,” the nerd said, and did some fancy typing. Then he took what looked like an old iPhone and spent another five minutes modifying it.
“There, all done!” Gordon said, holding up the device. “This will function as a detector. As you get closer, it should pinpoint the gamma ray source to within a few yards.”
“Are you sure it will work?” the Fox said, reaching for it.
He snatched it back abruptly. “Fox, this is me, Gordon Gieseck. Of course it will work! There’s just the question of my price…” His face assumed an insufferably smug expression. “You have to have sex with me,” he said firmly. “Not just a bj, either. Sex. I want pussy!”
The stunning superheroine’s eyes widened at his audacity. “This is no time to mess with me, Gordon.”
“I’m not messing with you, Fox! The last time we… er… encountered one another, it was kind of fun, but it ended up costing me five million dollars. I think I’m entitled.”
“Five million to charity, Gordon. For you it was a tax write-off. And you have no reason to complain. You drugged me with rohypnol!”
“Yeah…” he grinned reminiscently. “This time I want you to do it of your own free will. And I want to tape it.”
“Absolutely not!” she gasped, shocked at the very idea.
“Okay, forget the tape. But sex for the gadget — that’s my price. Final offer. Take it or leave it.”
“Gordon, there’s a life at stake,” the Fox argued desperately, although she couldn’t very well tell him that it was her own sister.
“You’ll rescue them in time if you hurry,” he pointed out. “You always do. But I may never have you in this position again. This is my big chance. You can see that.”
“Don’t you have any sense of civic responsibility?”
“My sense of civic responsibility is fine,” the nerd said. “But my lust for your bod is even greater.”
“I’ll tell you what–” the superheroine said. “Let me take the gadget now, I’ll come back when I’m done, and we can talk about this…”
“No way,” Gordon said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Fox. You just might forget. I’m not letting you off that easy.”
Time was ticking away. Who knew what that lunatic might be doing to Ashley? For an instant, the Fox dallied with the idea of just overpowering him and taking the gadget anyway, but that was the difference between heroines and villains. “Gordon,” she said, “if you weren’t so cute, I’d break you over my knee and have done with it.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it?” he asked slyly.
The Fox let out a sigh, feeling heat creeping up her flawless cheekbones. Did Wonder Woman ever find herself in predicaments like this? It wasn’t so much the idea of having sex with a nerd like Gordon (he was kind of cute, actually), but rather, the idea that she had no choice in the matter. If she didn’t need this gadget so badly, if Ashley’s life weren’t on the line, she’d tell him to get lost in no uncertain terms.
She glanced around at the penthouse office to buy herself time to think. “Is the room secure?” she asked. “Where’s your buddy Wolowitz? I don’t want him walking in on us.”
“He’s at the California office,” Gordon said, dashing to the computer on his desk and tapping a few keys. The blinds over the windows closed, and there was a thunk sound from the door. Soft music began playing. “I’m locking the door and shutting off the security monitor in this room. See?” He turned the screen so that she could see. “It’s just you and me.”
The Fox sighed. He had her over a barrel. She might as well get it over with. She reached reluctantly behind her to unfasten her halter top.
“Hold on! Wait a second wait a second…” Gordon came around the desk, quickly undoing his trousers and dropping them. He yanked off his shoes and trousers, unbuttoned his shirt, and plunked himself down on the suede sofa in just his open shirt and boxers. “Okay, give it to me!”
The superheroine strode over to him, her smooth, shapely legs automatically getting into the rhythm of the soft music, one hand flicking her lustrous brunette tresses over her shoulder. The music made it seem almost like a dance or a performance, and Jenn had done enough of those for Martin, not to mention her webcam audience. She stopped about five feet away and resumed unfastening her halter top — the rear strap first, then the strap at her nape, snapping open and dangling against her silken shoulders. The clingy fuchsia costume fell loose, to be caught in the nick of time by her hands pressed against the mounds of her exquisite breasts. Gordon bit his lip.
The Fox paused for a moment like that, teasing him, her hands gently caressing her two perky boobs through the flimsy fabric of her top. Her skin felt flushed and excited. Gordon’s eyes were riveted to her. She could see a prominent bulge appear in the front of his boxers as his penis tried to stand upright, and the sight of it stirred emotions of arousal within the sexy superheroine. All up and down her body, she felt a tingling, growing sensation of desire.
Seductively she let her halter top fall to the floor. Gordon let out a soft moan of hunger at the sight of her naked, perfect, unprotected breasts, their nipples rising in hard little peaks. His hand started to move of its own accord to the hard shaft between his legs, but he caught himself. Jennifer couldn’t help smiling. She shouldn’t be enjoying this, but she was. Her body was aroused by the power she had to seduce him, to make him groan, to make him want her.
She undid the fastener of her miniskirt, turning a slow pirouette as she sensuously unwound it from her waist and dropped it to the floor. Facing away from him, she slipped her fingers into the waist of her panties, and in one long, smooth movement, peeled them down her silken legs, hearing Gordon gasp at the sight of her tight, round ass. “Oh God that’s…” he hissed. “Shit that’s beautiful!”
The Fox turned to face him, keeping both hands modestly covering her slit. Gordon’s legs were splayed out as he lounged on the sofa like a king on his throne, his cock standing upright like a tent pole under his boxers. “Come on, bitch,” he said with a regal come-here gesture. “Let’s get down and do it; let’s go all the way.”
Jennifer didn’t feel offended at being called a “bitch” by Gordon. He was just mimicking what he had seen on music videos, trying to be a “playa”. The sexy superheroine slowly moved closer, her arms reaching out to his shoulders as she straddled him, her pert coconuts dangling in front of his face. She leaned over, careful to barely touch his hard dick, just enough to get him more excited, as her gloved hands slid under his open shirt to caress his chest and his abs. “Is a facing cowgirl position good enough for you?” she asked.
“Oh yeah!” he gasped, as his hands latched onto her pliant boobs, squeezing them.
She nodded. “Then let’s do what we came here for,” she said, sliding off his lap and dropping to her knees in front of him, while her hands grabbed the sides of his boxers and slowly pulled them down to his knees. His rigid member sprang upright, its veins sticking out, throbbing. She could smell the musky aroma of his maleness assaulting her senses, making her pussy feel unexpectedly moist with longing as she dropped his shorts to his ankles. Her gloved hands returned upward, sliding silkily along his inner thighs as she stood up.
This was it, the point of no return. Jenn looked down at his erect rod, quivering with anticipation, and she felt an answering quiver in her womanhood. Her heart was pounding as she moved forward to straddle him, trying to line herself up with his pole.
Just then Gordon unexpectedly sat up, seizing hold of the Fox’s slender arms. Caught unaware and off balance, the superheroine was unable to resist being thrown over his thigh to end up flat on her back, splayed across the sofa!
“Gordon… what–?” she blurted, cheeks burning. But the skinny nerd had already pinned her wrists, holding her down while he thrust his face against her naked boobs, kissing them.
“Changed my mind,” he wheezed, his chest expanding as he assumed a dominant position on top, his thighs astraddle her, his mouth sucking on her right nipple. “Ohmigod you’ve got [i]great[/i] tits! Did I ever tell you that?”
The Fox could easily have asserted her superhuman strength to force him off of her, but just then his teeth bit down on her nipple, causing an excruciatingly pleasant wave of pain to ripple through her body. The heroine squirmed underneath him, her naked butt wriggling in ecstasy against the soft suede. After all, this was all part of the deal.
Gordon shifted his mouth to her left breast, moaning as he ravaged her pliant orb, while his right hand let go of her wrist and moved downward along her body, caressing the lean, lissome curves of her waist and her hips, sliding across her belly to feel in between her moist, creamy thighs.
“Unnnnnnnn!” Jennifer groaned, her skin breaking out in goosebumps as his fingers touched the smooth petals of her labia, feeling her slippery wetness, rubbing the swollen button of her clit. Her toes curled, her long legs parting involuntarily underneath him. His tongue was licking her breasts now and he was panting like a train engine. She went limp and helpless in his hands as his masculine weight bore down on top of her. Suddenly he thrust his torso upright, his hips moving left and right, steering his erect penis irresistibly toward her love hole. He was going to nail her any second now…
The Fox swore that she actually heard the sound of his wad letting go as a hot cascade of milky semen flew from the tip of his cock and splashed her belly. Looking down, she could see his tool spasm, bobbing up and down as the eruption continued.
“Oh damn!” Gordon swore, his eyes like saucers. “This has never happened before, Fox! I swear!”
“Well. Isn’t that nice?” the heroine gasped, fighting for breath. She wasn’t sure whether she felt more relieved at her close call or disappointed as she wriggled out from under him.
“Wait!” the nerd protested weakly. “That’s not… it’s not…”
“We had an agreement,” the Fox said, tugging her panties in place and wrapping her miniskirt around her. “Sex for the gadget. I did my part. It’s not my fault if you can’t control yourself.”
“But…but… It’s not fair!”
“It’s not fair for me to be blackmailed either,” the heroine pointed out, slipping into her halter. “It’s a hard world… if you’ll pardon the expression. Are you a man of your word, or aren’t you?”
Chapter 5 –
Larry Dalton limped along the dock on his cane as fast as he could with his other arm burdened with his briefcase. If Abiroth was really determined to kill him, it might be the better part of valor to relocate his base of operations temporarily, say to Baltimore. Yeah, Baltimore. He knew some great girls in Baltimore…
He hobbled onto his boat. There was still some superficial damage that he hadn’t had time to get repaired, but the boat was still seaworthy. He was only stopping by to pick up a couple of things from his safe anyway.
A slim young woman with a blonde pixie haircut stepped out from behind the bar, a very short red velour dress clinging to the curvy feminine shape of her desirable body. “I’m Holly,” the girl said, smiling sweetly. Dalton’s eyes followed her silken legs down to the curly-toed slippers she was wearing.
The lawyer grinned. “Well, hello cutie! Where did you come from? Did Reiner send you?”
“I’m Ivy,” said another voice behind him. A second girl, this one wearing a green dress, came up the companionway from the lower deck and stood blocking his exit.
Dalton’s grin faded. There was something odd about these girls. Something about the way they moved seemed almost… mechanical. Their lithe arms snaked around his shoulders as they drew closer to kiss him, and up close their eyes seemed glassy, almost like… dolls!
Their lips parted, and a pale white sleep gas seeped out of their mouths, engulfing him.
The Fuchsia Fox soared past West Springfield, periodically checking the gadget that Gordon had given her. The little red dot on the screen was beeping, indication that she was still on course. The superheroine was deep in the countryside now, among farmland and deep forests.
All at once she overshot. The red dot was beeping insistently now. But the only thing below her was a barn, standing out in a field by itself.
Alighting in front of the open doorway, the Fox tucked the gadget into the waistband of her miniskirt. It looked and smelled like an ordinary barn to her, not that she had a great deal of experience with the countryside. As the beautiful lady strolled inside, heels making no noise on the straw-strewn dirt floor, she heard the lowing of a cow in one of the stalls. Jennifer smiled, reaching out with a gloved hand to pat the cool muzzle which the animal held up toward her.
It suddenly dawned on the Fox that it wasn’t a real cow! It was an animatronic puppet! Just as abruptly, the floor dropped out from under her, taking her so by surprise that she didn’t think to activate her flying powers. Her tiny miniskirt flew up, flashing her gorgeous round butt as she swished down a long, Teflon-coated slide, dropping finally face down onto an enormous, plush cushion.
“Well that was unexpected,” the Fox said, tugging her miniskirt down and standing up. She was inside a huge room like a warehouse, cluttered with oversized toys — gigantic blocks, jack-in-the-boxes, clown cars, firetrucks, jacks and rubber balls. Brightly painted puppets and marionettes of all kinds dangled from the rafters. The stunning superheroine almost felt like a doll herself in the middle of it all.
“All right, Toymaker!” she called out loud. “Come on out! You don’t want to get me angry!”
A hidden door slid open and two slender, female figures emerged, wearing identical pixie haircuts and very short velour dresses with matching slippers. “I’m Holly!” said the one in red. “I’m Ivy!” said the one in green. “We’re the Toymaker’s helpers!” they both said in unison.
“That’s very nice,” the Fox said warily. They both had vapid smiles on their faces and spoke mechanically, more like animated dolls than people.
“You’ve been a naughty little girl,” Holly said, still smiling as she raised her left arm and aimed it palm-first at the superheroine. “You need to be punished,” Ivy added, raising her own arm.
Laser emitters popped out suddenly through hidden ports in their palms and opened fire! Jennifer ducked under the crisscross of beams, then turned a nimble cartwheel to her left, her lithe young body flexing like a gymnast’s as she landed on her feet, raising her invisible force shield.
The Toymaker’s helpers charged in close for hand-to-hand combat. Ivy, the one in green, moved in with a downward karate chop. The Fox gracefully parried, giving the android a hefty shove and twisting in time to intercept her partner, Holly, who high kicked, her red velour skirt flapping against her pert little derriere. The stunning super-lady caught Holly’s ankle, noticing with surprise that the doll was anatomically correct, and she wasn’t wearing anything under the skirt.
This surprise distracted the Fox for a crucial second, long enough for Ivy to jump her from behind with an astoundingly hard roundhouse punch to her kidneys. Although the bulk of the impact was absorbed by her force shield, the beautiful brunette girl stumbled, allowing Holly to catch the Fox’s right arm in an arm lock. Ivy joined in, grabbing her left arm, both dolls proving to be remarkably strong. Together they managed to overpower the spunky superheroine and push her back, pinning her against a five foot high jack-in-the-box.
“You’re such a pretty little girl,” Holly said, still smiling, as her right hand slid up the Fox’s sleek young torso and squeezed her right boob. “I know we’re going to be good friends.” Holding Jennifer firmly by her wrists, the two androids both leaned in closer and closer, as though to give her a kiss on the mouth. Both their lips parted, allowing a pale white mist to sift out…
“Oh no you don’t,” the heroine said, straining every delectable sinew in her alluring young body and breaking free with a fresh surge of strength. Holly and Ivy intensified their efforts to hold onto the superheroine, but Jennifer brought her silken knee up into Ivy’s crotch, knocking the android off her feet and sending her reeling into a tangle of marionette strings.
The sexy super-lady then turned on Holly, yanking her own arm out of the doll’s grip. The girl in red struck back, still smiling vapidly, with a karate chop, but the Fox spun like a dancer, delivering a flying backwards kick into her chest, putting all her strength behind it. WHACK!! The android recoiled and went tottering backward, obviously badly damaged.
“I’m Holly… click!” she said, as smoke wafted upward from a gash in the front of her red velour minidress. “You’ve been a naughty… click! a naughty… click! a naughty…” She slumped against the wall, and abruptly her doll’s eyes rolled up into her head as she slid to the floor on her naked tush.
The Fox turned to face Ivy, but just then, a clutch of five toy balloons released from the high ceiling and came drifting down. Reaching ground level, they suddenly popped — POP-POP-POP-POP-POP! — filling the area around the Fox with a thick fog of sleep gas!
“No!” the heroine groaned, breathing it in before she could stop herself. Instantly her lungs were burning, her head spinning, overwhelmed by the tranquilizer. Desperately the Fox struggled to fight it, but her slender limbs seemed to be growing heavier by the second. A black cloak seemed to swallow her brain, making her feel sleepy… so sleepy! Within seconds, she was unable to resist. Her shapely legs buckled, and the gallant girl collapsed to the floor in an unconscious, helpless heap.
Chapter 6 –
The Fuchsia Fox opened her eyes and found herself still inside that same, warehouse-sized room. The only difference was that three shiny silver posts about two feet thick had been set up side by side in the center of the room. The Fox was tied upright to the post on the far right, trussed up like a Christmas present by a wide pink ribbon wrapped several times around the middle of her sylph-like torso, around her hips and her long legs, and tied with a pretty bow in front. The superheroine tried to flex her arms in order to judge how tough the ribbon was, and found that she could hardly move. Whatever this stuff was, metal or synthetic or a combination of the two, it was as tough as titanium!
She was relieved to find Ashley tied to the pole on the far left, apparently safe and unharmed. Her navy shirtdress had been removed. Instead she was dressed like Raggedy Ann in a short, flirty gingham dress with wide, saggy cloth straps that barely stayed up on her smooth naked shoulders. Her head was topped by a mop-like wig composed of bright red yarn.
Between them was Larry Dalton, tied with a blue ribbon, his head lolling forward on his chest as if he was asleep.
“Awake, are you?” said the Toymaker, stepping into view from behind her, wearing a peculiar red and green checked suit and bow tie. Ivy followed a step or two behind him. The two of them had apparently just finished loading Holly onto a flat-topped hand cart, which rolled away by itself, disappearing through the hidden door, which then hissed shut behind it.
“You deserve a good, sound spanking, little girl,” the strange man said sternly, wagging his finger in front of the superheroine’s face, while his eyes roamed over her nubile, defenseless body. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to build her?”
“I’m sorry,” the Fox said sarcastically. “You should take better care of your toys, and not send them into fights they can’t win.”
“Oh please!” Ashley whimpered, squirming in her bonds. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have nothing to do with any of it. I’m just a bank teller. Please let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the Toymaker said. “I made an error, I admit, in abducting you, but it’s too late now. There’s no use crying over spilt milk. I can’t allow witnesses to go free.”
“Witnesses?” the Fox said suspiciously. “Witnesses to what?”
“To murder,” the Toymaker said, drawing a pistol from the inner pocket of his coat. Jennifer’s eyes grew wide. It looked like her husband Martin’s .45 caliber Army pistol! He pointed the gun straight at Dalton’s face and pulled the trigger.
A stream of ice cold water shot out and absolutely drenched the lawyer’s face. “Hey! What? What?” he sputtered, instantly wakened. “Oh… it’s you. Listen, pops. I don’t know what more I can do for you. Your niece smuggled drugs and diamonds for me, I admit it. She knew the risks when she signed on.”
“Oh really?” the strange man said. “Naturally there are risks associated with that kind of thing. Everybody knows that.” Meanwhile the Ivy android was fumbling around with something just out of sight. After a moment she came into view, pushing a shiny four foot long brass cannon mounted on two spoked wheels. She stopped it about twenty feet in front of the three prisoners.
“There you go,” the lawyer said. “I knew you were intelligent. I knew you’d see reason–”
“Did she know that you were going to get her hooked on cocaine, too?” the Toymaker said. “Was that part of her contract?”
Ivy began methodically loading the business end of the cannon. First, she took a paper bag clearly marked “Gunpowder” and poured the contents into the opening. Fastidiously shaking out every black grain, she folded the bag and put it inside as well, as a wad. Picking up a long rammer, she thrust this into the barrel and tamped the powder down. Withdrawing the rammer, she picked up a heavy, dart-shaped iron projectile and slid it into the barrel.
“Well, you know…” Dalton said quietly, watching the operation with a kind of horrified fascination. “It’s easier to keep control of people like that when they’re druggies. When they need a hit, they’ll do anything for you. They don’t haggle so much over how much of a cut they get. It’s… it’s nothing personal.”
“Nothing personal?” the Toymaker said. “Was it personal when you threw her off the roof of her building and made it look like a suicide? WAS IT?” Having finished loading the cannon, Ivy went around to the other end and carefully sighted the weapon on Dalton’s chest.
The lawyer’s face went chalk white. “Er… well… That was Reiner! Reiner did that! I told him not to. I just wanted to talk to her…”
“Then he’ll be next,” the Toymaker said. He walked unhurriedly to the breech end of the cannon, where a two-foot fuse protruded. There he fumbled in his pockets and pulled out an enormous, ludicrously oversized match.
“Toymaker, no!” the Fox pleaded, struggling with her bonds. “You can’t just murder him like this!”
“Please!” Ashley chimed in. “We can call the police! We’re witnesses! He confessed to smuggling, to being a cocaine supplier…”
“That’s right!” Jennifer agreed. “He… he named this Reiner guy as a co-conspirator! We can have him arrested! Please don’t do this!”
The Toymaker struck the match on the flank of the cannon. “It’s too late for that,” he said, and lit the fuse. As it began to burn, he stood back out of the line of recoil, putting his fingers in his ears. On the other side, Ivy copied him.
The Fox desperately summoned more power from her bracelets of Ishtar, every muscle of her sleek, desirable body straining to break free of her restraints. The ribbon painfully began to give, to split down the middle. Meanwhile the fuse was burning fast, the spark sizzling down its length like lightning. It was going to fire any second!
Seeing that she wasn’t going to tear herself loose in time, the spunky superheroine suddenly lunged forward, activating her flying powers and exerting her full strength on ripping the post itself clean out of the floor, just as… BOOM!… the cannon fired!
The smoke cleared to reveal the Fox standing in front of Dalton like a protecting goddess, having intercepted the projectile at the last split second with her own luscious body. Casually she tossed her gorgeous brunette tresses over her silken shoulder as she let the tattered remains of the ribbon fall to the floor. The impact of the missile had finished ripping her restraints apart without harming so much as a hair of her head, thanks to her invisible force shield.
The Toymaker was livid! “If I don’t win, I knock over the game board!” he grumbled, dashing quickly through the hidden door with Ivy at his heels. The Fox let him go. There would be time to capture him later; rescuing Ashley and Dalton was more important now.
“Oh, thank you!” the redhead gasped, as the superheroine tore through the single layer of ribbon binding her and caught her as she fell. “Thank you so much! You must be… the Fuchsia Fox?”
“That’s right,” Jennifer said, feeling a little bit awkward as she held her stepsister’s soft, warm body, insecurely clad in that baggy Raggedy Ann dress.
Ashley’s green eyes looked soulfully into hers for a moment. “I can tell that you have a good heart,” she said. “You have brown eyes just like my sister. She has the kindest heart I know.” Leaning forward, she kissed the Fox warmly on the lips. Caught off guard, Jenn could only stand there flabbergasted and enjoy it. Ashley had never shown signs of being bisexual before…
“This is SUCH a touching scene!” Dalton interrupted, still bound to his post. “So moving, so heartwarming! I might puke! Can somebody get me the crap DOWN from here?”
“Er… excuse me,” the Fox said sheepishly to Ashley, her cheeks flushing pink.
Just then one of the huge oversized jacks positioned at strategic points around the huge room began to glow. The superheroine had a bad feeling about this. Quickly she leaped to Dalton’s side, tore his bindings off, and sheltered both him and Ashley with her body just as the prop exploded, throwing shrapnel across the room!
“Crap! This whole place is booby-trapped!” Dalton cried, stating the obvious.
There was no chance to capture the Toymaker after all. Rescue was her priority. Another jack on the far side of the room exploded. “Here we go,” the Fox said, gathering the two of them up, Dalton in her left arm, Ashley in her right, and flying them both back up the slide she had taken when she arrived. Behind them, the sound of more explosions echoed through the villain’s hideout.
A couple of hours later, Jennifer (once more wearing her jeans and gray tee-shirt) met Ashley at the Alexandria Police Department, bringing her overnight bag and a change of clothes.
“Ash, are you okay?” the brunette gushed, giving her sister a hug.
“I’m fine, Jenn,” the redhead said, holding up the sagging shoulder strap of that Raggedy Ann dress she was still stuck wearing. “I was rescued by that superheroine we’re always hearing about…”
“The Fuchsia Fox? Really?” said Jennifer. “You are so lucky! I’ve been living in Washington all this time, and I’ve never even met her!”
“She’s… she’s wonderful,” Ashley said, with a faraway look in her green eyes. “Anyway, we had to give statements to the police. They placed that Dalton creep under arrest. Sergeant Larkin says there’s a possibility I might have to come back to Washington at a later date to testify against him, but that the guy will probably go for a plea bargain anyway.”
“That’s good news,” Jenn said, cupping her sister’s shoulders and steering her toward the door. “Now, let’s get you home to the apartment. You’ll need a relaxing bath after your adventure. We can go sight-seeing tomorrow.”
“I need to call Rick first,” Ashley said, pulling up short. “It’s just… while I was captured by that strange man and tied up, terrified for my life the whole time…”
“…the only thing I could think of was that I might never see Rick again. That I might get killed before I could tell him how much I love him. Does that sound silly to you?”
“No,” Jennifer said, smiling. “That sounds like a woman very much in love with her husband.”
>>>>>>>>>> the end