Message-ID: <22577asstr$949367402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20000131222248.13748.qmail@nym.alias.net> From: Echo Subject: {ASSM} Echo: Dark Damsel: Betrayals 3/4 (Superhero, MF, FF, Anal) Date: Mon, 31 Jan 2000 20:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, apuleius RE Copyright remains with author. This story is *not* to be reposted, posted elsewhere, etc. It is *not* to be made available in any media for profit or put up on any webpage. You are entitled to one hard copy (and/or electronic copy) for your own amusement. If under the legal age, don't read further. Note: Contains semi-consensual sex. If this turns you off, bail out now. Comments welcomed. Dark Damsel II: Betrayals by Echo echo@nym.alias.net Chapter 7 Colleen walked along the street until she spotted the familiar storefront. She smiled wickedly and opened the door. The clerk looked up and smiled her welcoming smile. "May I help you?" she asked. "Yes, you may. I need to speak to your boss," Colleen told her imperiously. "Of course," the woman replied, successfully holding back the frown which threatened to replace her smile. She pushed the intercom button and spoke. "Megan. There is someone to see you up front." Moments later the thin blonde woman appeared, her own smile at the ready. When she saw who it was who had requested her, the smile faded. Colleen's smile, however, broadened. She strode over to the suddenly shaking woman and whispered in her ear, "Get rid of the help. I have another job for you." It took a moment for Megan to regain her composure. "Diane, you can go now." She jumped as Colleen patted her rear approvingly. Diane's face betrayed shock. "But Megan . . ." "We'll talk about it tomorrow," Megan preempted her firmly. Diane turned without another word and stepped into the back. Moments later she reappeared, putting on her coat. As she reached the door she turned and surprised Colleen with a look bordering on hatred. Shrugging it off, Colleen waited for Megan to lock the front door then followed the blonde woman into the back of the dress shop. "What is it you want?" Megan asked, hands clasped together so Colleen wouldn't see them shaking. Colleen leaned nonchalantly against a wall. "Oh, just a little favour. See, I'm going to a Hallowe'en party and thought, hey, wouldn't it be neat to go as Dark Damsel. Well, the first person I thought of was you. Simple, no?" "But Colleen, you can get a Dark Damsel costume from almost any costume shop and . . ." "And go in something that doesn't fit perfectly? Come, now, Megan. You know me better than that. Besides, you already have all my measurements, and you did such a great job on my last order that I just wouldn't think of going elsewhere. I'm only too happy to give you the business." Megan darkly wished that she could give Colleen the business. However, the redhead scared her. She knew just how vicious Colleen could be. So she smiled and accepted the compliment at face value. "You are too kind. But I don't even know what Dark Damsel's costume looks like, and I . . ." Colleen dropped several 8 x 10 glossies on the table. They showed Dark Damsel from several different angles. "Get started. I haven't got all night, you know." Megan was shocked. "You want it tonight?" "Yes." There would be no reasoning with the woman, Megan realized and she cleared her work table. Studying the photos with a practiced eye, she didn't notice Colleen beginning to inspect her work area. It was only when she moved to get a bolt of the appropriate material that she saw Colleen heading for a curtained off portion of the room. "No!" Colleen, startled turned around. She raised her eyebrows inquiringly, then a slow smile came to her as she saw that Megan was blushing. She put a hand to the curtain and pulled, while watching Megan carefully. The blonde's eyes dropped. "Well, what have we here? A bed. My, my, my, a very nice mattress, too. A video camera?" Colleen began to laugh softly. The soft laughter turned to a belly laugh as everything became clear. Finally controlling herself she turned to the humiliated Megan and grinned. "So, that's why I got the poisonous look from . . . Diane. She thought I was beating her time with you!" Colleen turned back to examine the curtained off area more closely. "Don't mind me, Megan. Get on with your work." Megan, face beet red, turned back to the table and began measuring cloth. She turned her back to Colleen, not wanting to even get a glimpse of the other woman as she delved into things which were none of her business. "Given the relative abundances--and lack thereof--I guess that when you play, you are the boy," Colleen sneered. Megan pretended not to hear, just bent to her work, hoping that Colleen would tire of her little games. "Oh, ho! What have we here? Video tapes. Let's see, there ought to be a TV around somewhere. Ah, here it is." Megan turned to protest, but the protest died on her lips. The calculating cruelty in Colleen's eyes stopped her dead. It was as if the redhead wanted her to get physical so that she could hand out one of the lessons for which she'd been known in school. Megan wanted no part of being on the receiving end of one of those lessons. She recalled only too well some of the less lucky others. "Yes, Megan dear, you just go back to what you are good at. I'll amuse myself by watching some television." Minutes passed, then hours, as Megan tried to close her ears to the sounds coming from the television. She worked as quickly as she could without making mistakes. All she wanted was for Colleen to be gone. And every time Colleen chuckled or laughed, her face grew hot once again. It just wasn't fair. What she and Diane did was nobody's business but theirs. "All right, Colleen, it is ready for you to try on. Then, if there are any alterations to be made, I'll make them and you can be on your way." Colleen hit the stop button and swung her legs of the bed. She eagerly took the suit from Megan's hands and ran an appraising eye over it. "It looks good," she admitted. "Now let's see how it fits." Megan waited in nervous anticipation for Colleen to come out of the dressing room. When she did, her eyes went wide. Except for the red hair, it was Dark Damsel who appeared. "From the look on your face I'd say that you agree with me that it looks right." "You look very good in the suit, Colleen. I think that you'll go over big at the Hallowe'en party." "Yes, I should make quite a splash," Colleen agreed, nodding her head. "You did a good job." It was the work of only one more hour to get everything perfect. Finally Colleen was completely satisfied. She dropped several fifties on the table for payment. "Just one thing, though . . ." "What is it?" "Well, you finished before I had a chance to finish watching those lovely tapes--you're quite kinky--and I was so enjoying myself." She walked over and ejected the tape from the VCR. She replaced it in its case, looked at it judiciously then picked up another and placed the two of them in her bag. "I'll finish watching them at home . . ." Colleen broke off as Megan launched herself at the costumed woman. Grinning, she sidestepped Megan's charge and booted her in the ass as she went by. Megan landed on the bed, face down. She cursed, turned and was back on her feet in a rage, fingers hooked into claws. A heavy slap turned her around and a shove between her shoulder blades sent her back on the bed. Colleen was on her in a flash, bringing her right arm up behind her in a hammer lock. Megan tried to escape but Colleen applied the pressure until she screamed and stopped fighting. "That was very stupid of you," Colleen whispered into her ear. "After I give you work and pay you well for your time, you go and do something like this. You need to be taught a lesson." The redhead allowed her victim to get back up. There would be no more fight from her, she knew. Megan's eyes were wet and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Colleen looked at the clock. "When is Diane due back?" Megan followed Colleen's gaze and was surprised at just how much time had passed. "She should be back in just over an hour. We start our day about an hour before we open the doors." "Does she have a key to get in?" "Yes." Megan was puzzled. Why the interest in Diane? She shuddered. "She's done nothing to you. Why don't you just let her alone." "Me?" Colleen sounded astonished. "I wouldn't think of harming a hair on her head." She picked up one of the tapes and tossed it to Megan who automatically caught it. "If anyone has caused her grief, I'd say it has been you. Now get a pen and paper and write what I tell you." While Megan went for the writing implements, Colleen pulled out a steamer trunk from under the bed and opened it up. Megan shuddered again when she returned, looking at the way Colleen was lovingly handling some of her possessions. "Okay, Megan, now write the following . . ." When Megan was finished writing, Colleen crooked a finger at her. "Come here and take off all your clothes," she ordered. Megan balked, but when Colleen's eyes narrowed in anger she began unbuttoning her stylish blouse. The rest of her clothes followed in short order. "Put this on." The red ball gag was duly inserted and buckled behind her head. "You seem to like using this spreader bar on poor Diane. Let's see you try it on yourself." There was no mercy in Colleen's eyes and with a muffled sob Megan bent down to place the cuffs around her ankles and then to fasten them to the bar. "Looks good on you, Megan. Catch." Colleen tossed the wrist cuffs to the defeated blonde who put them on without hesitating. "I think you know the rest. I've seen you do it enough times on the tapes." Megan nodded, thoroughly subdued. She awkwardly turned around and knelt on the bed. The chains from the eyebolt which was fastened to the middle of the headboard were duly locked onto her cuffs. "Very good. Now I'll just lay out these things." Megan's eyes went wide. Then all went black as Colleen fitted the blindfold to her. She felt Colleen place the two pillows next to her knees, then grunted as the spreader bar was pulled backwards, causing her to fall on the pillows. A snap told her that the bar was now hooked to the footboard of the bed. She was now stretched out over the bed with the pillows under her hips, her ass high in the air. "It will be a while before Diane gets here," Colleen's voice informed her. I wouldn't want you to get bored." A jolt of fear shot through her, as she wondered what Colleen would do. She wasn't long in finding out. Pressure at her nether lips built and the vibrator that she loved to use on Diane was ruthlessly pushed up inside her. She jumped, as much as one in her position could jump, when it was switched on. The low throb filled her pussy with desire. "I have to leave you now," Colleen whispered maliciously in her ear, "but I hate the idea of not knowing how this turns out. So I'm going to turn on the video camera." She laughed at the muffled protest. "And I've set it up so the clock is running. I'll send someone to pick up the tape in a few hours. It's now just over two hours before opening. If there are less than two hours on the tape, well, we'll just have to do it all over again." Megan felt the sharp slap on her backside, heard the pulling of the curtain. Then Colleen was gone. "Don't bother getting up, I'll let myself out," were the last words Megan heard. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to ignore the vibrations in her pussy. Diane inserted the key in the lock and turned it. There was light coming from the back room, so Megan had already arrived. If, that was, she had ever left. She felt her stomach tightening as she thought of Megan and the redhead. She fought back a tear. That Megan could do this to her. She had been faithful to Megan and Megan knew that. Why . . . ? To her surprise, there was no one in the workroom and the work table was clear. Usually Megan would already have the days projects lined up and the table would be set up for work. Today all there was on the table was a single sheet of paper. Diane walked over and picked it up. Her name was printed in big letters at the top. Curiosity overcame her and she picked up the letter and began to read Megan's neat script. Her hand began to tremble and a small sob escaped her. Then, with eyes steely hard, she walked over to the curtained off area and pulled the curtain open. She was only a little surprised to see her boss, her lover, in a position which she herself had often ended up in. Megan was covered in sweat and Diane almost laughed as she heard the buzz coming from between Megan's legs. But this was no laughing matter. Beside the bed on the table the toys were laid out. The multi-stranded whip, the harness with dildo already attached, and other implements of their play. Diane pursed her lips, then nodded. She picked up the whip and allowed the leather strands to lightly brush Megan's upthrust ass. Megan jerked and began making muffled cries. Diane looked again at the letter in her hand and her lips tightened. She dropped the letter to the floor, where it would remain until opening time . . . if she decided to allow Megan up then. DIANE: I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. I feel that I have betrayed you and I don't know how to make things better. Even so, I must try to make amends. To this end I have left some things out for you. The lesson must be learned, so please use them in whatever way you desire. Megan PS: I do not wish to talk until opening. You know what I mean. There was a sharp crack and the blonde's body jumped. "You hurt me, Megan," Diane told the whimpering woman. "You hurt me badly, and you know you deserve this." She raised her arm and again the whip cracked across the blonde's ass. Diane grinned, some of her anger melting away. It was fun being on the other end. She was going to enjoy this, and Megan *did* deserve it. Then something caught her attention. She wasn't quite sure what it was at first, then it came to her. "It seems your batteries are dying, Megan. Here, let me change them for you." She pulled the slowing vibrator out of Megan's pussy, changed the batteries and replaced it, but not before turning the speed from low to high. She giggled as Megan started squirming. Crack! "May I help you?" the pretty young clerk asked him. Sean noted that the woman seemed flushed and there was a certain undefinable presence about her. She looked . . . powerful. Yes, powerful was the word, but he didn't understand why it should be so. "Yes, I'm here to pick up a package from Megan. I believe she is expecting me." In short order a thin, smartly dressed blonde appeared with a small package. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying. She hesitantly approached him. "You're from . . ." "Colleen," he confirmed. She hesitated for an instant then handed him the package. Without another word she turned and headed back the way she had come. She had to pass the clerk on her way there and, to Sean's surprise, the clerk swatted her on the rear which caused her to jump. Even over the soft music the hiss of indrawn breath was clear. Curious and curiouser, Sean thought. Well, Colleen would have some explaining to do. This was the place, Detective Ray Barton confirmed to himself. Some informant wished to meet him here. He was wary and had not, in spite of the instructions, come alone. He looked up and down the alley, then leaned against a wall. Digging into his coat pocket he pulled out a package of breath mints and popped one into his mouth. That was the signal. He looked around. No one. Ray's mouth turned down. He hated wasting his time like this. If someone wasn't going to show, then they had no business . . . From above came a fluttering sound and Ray looked up just in time to see a caped figure descending at the end of a rope. A moment later he stood face to face with Dark Damsel. "It wasn't me," she told him before he could even think of saying anything. Ray Barton looked at Dark Damsel coolly. How much did he *really* know about her. "We've a large group of solid citizens who say it was." He waited, not making any move she might consider aggressive. "They're being blackmailed," she told him earnestly, trying to make him believe. "By whom?" "Shamrock." "Ah, Shamrock. This costumed woman that no one but you has ever seen. Look, Damsel, I want to believe you, but you'll have to do better than that. Have you any proof, anything that'll stand up?" "Yes, Ray, I do," the Damsel told him, looking him straight in the eyes. "Then trot it out," he broke in before she could finish what she'd been saying. "I can't." The look of frustration on her face was almost enough to have him believing. "If I do it will be the end of Dark Damsel." Ray Barton sighed. He wanted to believe, yet there were protocols to follow. Then he had an idea, but he didn't think Dark Damsel would like it much. "I think you should come in with me and we'll . . ." He broke off as Dark Damsel flipped a switch and began to rise in front of him. Before he could do anything she had been reeled in by whatever device she'd used to lower herself in the first place. "I can't do that," her voice drifted down to him. "Damn, damn, damn," Ray murmured to himself. She wasn't doing herself a bit of good. He turned at the sound of running footsteps. "Was that who I thought it was?" Sam asked as he came skidding to a stop. "Afraid so. She wouldn't come in, though." "You'll have to report it." Ray sighed again. "Yeah, I know." Together the two officers turned and headed for their unmarked car. The trip back to the garage was uneventful. Just as they were pulling in, however, the police radio came to life. "Robbery at the corner of 15th and Main. Dark Damsel positively identified as perpetrator." "Damn!" The two men spoke in unison. Chapter 8 Officer Rebecca Nasturant descended the stairs and looked through the glass door to the room within. Two fighters circled each other, looking for an opening. The woman feinted then kicked for the man's head. The kick was blocked, ankle thrust high and the woman tumbled backwards. Before the man could advance the woman had completed a back somersault and was on her feet again. Rebecca quietly slipped through the door. Now the man was on the attack. His hands and feet were like lightning yet every punch, every kick was blocked or evaded. Still, the woman was constantly retreating and running out of room to do so. Sensing the wall nearing her back the woman stepped into a punch, grabbed the arm and threw the man, who regained his feet almost as fast as she did. Rebecca was surprised by the intensity. Neither of the fighters was holding back and there was grim determination on their faces. A bell chimed, stopping the fighters in mid-movement. They backed from each other and bowed. Rebecca clapped her hands and laughed at the startled looks on their faces. "Didn't notice you come in," gasped Renee Jimson. "You seemed a little preoccupied," agreed Rebecca. She looked Renee over carefully before turning her attention away. "Hi, William, how goes it." Renee frowned slightly at the sudden warmth in Rebecca's voice. It wasn't that she objected to it, just that she'd come to consider Rebecca a friend and the warmth had definitely not been there for her. She gave a mental shrug and turned away. "Shower time," she called out over her shoulder. After Renee had left the room, William turned to Rebecca and motioned her towards his office. "What was *that* all about?" "Haven't you heard the news lately?" A low laugh came forth. "'Kitty, you know I don't pay much attention to that stuff. As it happens I've just finished two days of silence. Had some great meditation sessions. So, what's up?" "Dark Damsel has turned criminal, Bill. She and her gang took out a securities firm, a jewelry store and knocked off an armoured car. Witnesses all over the place--and pictures. It was her, all right." "You're sure?" Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Come on, Bill. Pictures. She's on film." "Something is funny here, Kitty. I just don't buy it. Renee is uptight about something, though. You saw the end of our session. I've never seen anyone so driven before." He sat down on the edge of the desk and pulled Rebecca close. "Ahh," he breathed gently into her hair, "you smell good." "Bill," she remonstrated, "what are we going to do about this?" Bill nuzzled her neck. "I have an hour before the next class. Lots of time. We get rid of Renee, lock the door and then . . . " "Bill!" "Okay, Kitty," Bill reluctantly released her. "What do you want to do about it? We're not responsible for her and if you are right, she's heading for a fall." Rebecca's eyes flashed. "I'm a cop, damnit! It's my duty to take her in." "And blow Dark Damsel's identity?" Bill took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Yes, you are a cop. But you can't afford to make a mistake like this . . ." he held up his hands placatingly, "if it is a mistake. Pictures, you said. Film, you said. Kitty, remember what *we* did to Dark Damsel?" He paused for a long moment to let that sink in. "With pictures and film? When you take her in, you be very sure." Rebecca lowered her gaze, remembering. It wasn't something she was proud of, now. "So, Rebecca, are you up for a little sparring?" Rebecca's eyes narrowed a touch at the unexpected use of her name, but understanding came immediately. "No, I'm on duty. I just dropped by to say hello . . . Oh, hi, Renee. You look more relaxed now." "A little, I guess," Renee admitted. "Thanks for the workout, William. Gotta go." "I'll walk with you a ways. Better than staying here. Someone we both know could use a shower, too, if you know what I mean." The three laughed and the two women ascended the stairs leaving a thoughtful William behind them. Finally he shrugged and headed for the showers. Police Commissioner Delcourt was fuming inwardly. Outwardly he was the picture of patience. It took a lot of will-power. He hated press conferences with a passion, especially those which tended to try and make the department look bad. This was one of those. "Don't you feel it is time to rethink the HCPD's policy with regards people like Dark Damsel?" The newswoman had that sarcastic tone which delivered an entirely different message to her viewers than the question would seem to. Delcourt hated that, too. "The Hub City Police Department's policy is to accept tips and help from all the citizens of the city. Which part of that do you find distasteful, Ms Frankel?" "Are you denying that the Police Department doesn't have a cozy relationship with the vigilante known as Dark Damsel?" Delcourt pulled out a sheaf of papers from under the podium. He held it out to her. Frankel took the papers and looked at the list. "What is this supposed to mean?" she asked. "That, Ms Frankel, is the list of the crimes which were solved with the help of Dark Damsel. It is pretty impressive, don't you agree?" Without awaiting an answer he continued, knowing that what he was about to say would get him in deep trouble. "And how many crimes have *you* helped us solve? The only one that comes to mind is when, with your editorials, you almost helped to convict an innocent man. You had the whole city up in arms and it is surprising that Jenkowitz was able to get a fair trial." Frankel's face grew hard. "If I'm not mistaken, it was Dark Damsel who found the real killer, who is now serving a life sentence in the pen. Perhaps that is why you are so determined to convict Dark Damsel without a trial. Well, Ms Frankel?" The Department would never get another objective story from KATY-TV, Delcourt thought ruefully, but it had been worth it. "What *is* the Department doing about the Dark Damsel situation?" The speaker was James Lestor, of the Hub City Free Press. A voice of reason. "We have asked Dark Damsel to come in and explain her side of the story. If she doesn't show up voluntarily, we will be forced to insist." "Five people have been injured in her robberies," Ms Frankel called out. "Will your officers have orders to shoot on sight?" Delcourt blew up. "We are the Police," he shouted back, "not a lawless lynch mob! We don't shoot anyone on sight," he glared at her, "no matter how much we might wish to." "Have you heard from her?" It was Lestor again, steering the conversation back towards sanity. "Yes." There was a stir in the crowd. "She sent us an e-mail stating that she is not the one who perpetrated the crimes. Someone, she says, is impersonating her." Let them chew on that for a bit. "Do you believe this?" It was Lestor again. "There is an ongoing investigation. It is certainly something we will be looking at." Delcourt smiled at the crowd of newspeople though he hardly felt like smiling at all. "Thank you all for coming. I'm afraid that is all the hard news I have for you. Anything else would simply be speculation and I *know* you don't want to convey that to your audiences, do you?" He looked directly at Ms Frankel as he said that, which was not lost on the others there. Frankel shot him a look of pure hatred. He smiled benignly at her, turned and left the stage. Once out of the room he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he cursed. If only Dark Damsel would see reason and come in. Her recalcitrance could only hurt her. Oh, well. On to more important things--family. Well, almost family. Renee Jimson, daughter of his old partner had come in to see him. Seeing her always brightened his day. This was no exception. As he walked into his office there was a blur as Renee ran to him and hugged him. "Oof! What was that all about? Not that I object, mind you, I just want to know so I can do it again," he laughed. "We saw you on the monitor and I thought you were just wonderful!" Renee gave him another little hug. "We?" Delcourt looked around and saw Officer Nasturant standing respectfully at attention. He waved her to a chair, extricated himself from Renee and stepped behind his desk. he stood behind his own chair and looked at the two of them. "Well, what did you think . . . really?" "Sir, you certainly put Ms Frankel in her place, but was it really wise? "No, Officer, it wasn't." He looked at her soberly for a minute, then grinned, "but it felt so good." He allowed himself to revel in it for a moment then turned to Renee. "You were wonderful," she told him again. "Then you feel that Dark Damsel is innocent," he stated. "Yes. After all she's done I think more people could give her the benefit of the doubt." "And you don't think so." This was directed at Rebecca Nasturant who had looked coldly at Renee while she talked. "It wouldn't be the first time someone like her has turned bad. A successful criminal in her league would make a lot more money than a bounty hunter." Rebecca looked pointedly at Renee when she said that last. Delcourt didn't want a fight breaking out in his office. "Well, I guess you two can agree to disagree. Officially, however, as police, we can only go on what evidence we unearth. Right now it isn't looking good for Dark Damsel. If only she'd come in and talk to us." "You know she can't do that, Uncle Teddy," Renee objected. "If she did, you would have to unmask her and that would be the end of Dark Damsel, innocent or guilty." "Perhaps," Delcourt reluctantly admitted. "Unfortunately there will be people who will listen to that Frankel women, some who will think that it is open season on Dark Damsel and some who will shoot on sight, given the chance. But enough of that. You came to accompany me to lunch, not so? Good. Let's go eat." "You look upset, Kitty," Bill murmured as he stroked her bare thigh. She shivered as his hand crept higher, under her skirt. His lips were lightly brushing over her neck and it was all she could do to concentrate on what he was saying. "Oh, god, you bastard, quit teasing." She turned her head and captured his lips with her own. Then it was a battle of the tongues as he rolled over on top of her, his hand finding its target, fingers drumming a light tattoo over her engorged lower lips. Kitty grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled his face tight against her own even as her hips began to rock with his ministrations. She had lost her underwear early on in the mock battle and now she gasped as a lovely finger pressed into her. Kitty immediately let go of his hair and went limp on the bed, her arms slipping over his bare back and falling to the mattress. "You have ravished me, sir," she wailed. "The victory is yours . . . I am yours. Take me; do with me as you will." Bill laughed at her antics. "Somehow I feel that I'm going to do with you as *you* will, you little vixen." He withdrew his finger to taste his victory, then began peeling off his pants even as Kitty began working the buttons on her blouse. Her blouse was scarcely undone when Bill pounced on the snap of her bra, opening it up and exposing her breasts. At once his mouth dove for one, capturing the nipple and working it until it stood proud, then moving over to the other. He growled at her half-hearted attempt to protect the nipple and bit it lightly eliciting a whimper from her. Her hands were stroking his head, her own head bent back, throat exposed. Moments later he was nuzzling her, moving up until his cock had found her warm portal. He raised himself on his hands and looked down at her, gazing into her eyes, then down her neck to her chest and down to the breasts which he so enjoyed molesting. Kitty's eyes widened momentarily, then the lids lazily closed even as her lips made that perfect 'Oh' and he was in her. They made love slowly, tenderly until neither of them could wait any longer, then it was hard and fast and wild. Kitty cried out and Bill stopped holding back, coming soon after. He collapsed on her. A long minute later he recovered sufficiently to roll them over. Kitty laid her head on his chest. "I'm going to have to take her in," she whispered, answering the question he had asked so long ago. "Something happened?" "I was tailing her last night. She lost me and less than an hour later Dark Damsel pulled another job . . . just three blocks from where she lost me." Bill pushed the hair back away from her face and looked her in the eyes. "You won't be able to take her if she doesn't want to be taken. She's faster, stronger and more skilled than you are. Even if you get the drop on her I would lay odds that she'd be able to overcome you . . . unless, that is, you intend to shoot, and somehow I can't see you being able to do that." "I know, Bill. And you're right. I don't think I'd be able to shoot her. No matter what she's doing now, I can't forget that she saved my life. She and Minx risked their lives for me, Ray and the boys." Kitty pursed her lips, then made her decision. "But you can take her without hurting her." Bill nodded slowly. "I thought this is where you were leading. Yes, she good, much better than last time we fought. However, I could still take her." He searched her face. "You are sure about this?" "I'm sure." "And you want me for a partner 'cause you're afraid that one of your own people might pull the trigger." He nodded as he saw confirmation in her eyes. "Okay, little one, we'll go and get us a Dark Damsel. Day after tomorrow is Hallowe'en. You're working with Ray until five, right?" "Right." "Seeing it's Hallowe'en, nobody will think anything if I go in a disguise. I'll meet you there right at five. Then we go pay a visit to Renee." Kitty grinned suddenly. "I'll be in disguise, too. The cops at the Garage are having a little Hallowe'en party after work." Bill groaned. "What is it?" "I can just see it now--the headlines: Wicked Witch of the West and Daffy Duck take on Dark Damsel. Gruesome Twosome fight Femme Fatale in fight of the . . . aieee, stop it!" Kitty dug her fingers into Bill's ribs and began tickling him. He fought back, rolling over her and trapping her under his weight. He grabbed her hands and held them against the mattress over her head, then smiled as he felt himself growing hard once more as she wiggled under him most fetchingly. "Now, you pay for that," he growled. Kitty spread her legs a little wider. "Good!" Colleen looked up at Sean, satisfaction written all over her face. "Then everything is arranged." "Everything is exactly as you want it. Are you sure you want to take this chance? I think it is foolhardy to play games with Dark Damsel. Better to just finish it quickly without going into these theatrics." Colleen tossed her head back and laughed. "But I *love* theatrics, Sean. Besides, after it is over, Shamrock will have the cops eating out of her hand. We'll be sitting pretty." Sean sighed. "Okay, Colleen. This one is all yours." He looked at his watch. "Time to start it." Everything had gone as planned. The gang had hit the drug dealers just as the exchange had been made. They ripped them off for both the cash and the drugs, leaving the dealers and their associates dead on the floor of the warehouse. Calhoun laughed as they exited the building. "What did I tell you, smooth as a baby's bottom. Now we go into business for ourselves with no one the wiser!" "You're going nowhere, but to jail!" The woman's voice rang from out of the darkness. The gang pulled their silenced guns and looked around. A figure stepped out of the shadows and four guns were emptied into her. The last faint plop had just faded when a laugh from behind them had them whipping around. Three pillars of smoke erupted in front of them and a woman wearing a light grey catsuit sprang from the left hand one and struck the man closest to her. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. The other three turned to face this menace, pulling knives as they did. "Naughty boys," came the voice with a soft Irish lilt. "We'll show you naughty, lady," Calhoun told her. "Two hours from now and you'll be begging for . . ." Without waiting for him to finish his threat, Shamrock tossed another smoke bomb. The three scattered as something in the smoke irritated their eyes and lungs. Coughing, one of them didn't even notice the sap as it came down on the back of his head. Calhoun wiped the tears from his eyes just in time to see his partner going down. "I'll get you, bitch," he cursed, then screamed as Shamrock turned like lightning and caught him between the legs with a kick. He lay huddled, grasping himself when he felt her presence above him. She leaned down and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "And you make four. Hardly even a work-out." Renee lay back on her bed and turned on the 11 p.m. news. After the national reports, a film clip from SMU-TV was shown. SMU-TV was UHF-69, a trashy station with a bad reputation. Renee wondered that the staid HCTV would show anything from them. "So," the anchor concluded, "it seems that the Hub City has a new costumed hero. She did not give her name, but she stayed on the scene long enough to give us the following." Renee sat bolt upright. It was Shamrock. Even though the picture only showed her from shoulders up, Renee knew. She'd never forget that face. "These thugs thought it would be a good idea to go into the drug trade," Shamrock snarled. "They killed six men. Granted those six were scum, but these four are worse. They stole drugs in order to sell them to children in our schools. *I* will not stand for this." She glared at the men being led away by police officers, then turned back to the camera. "I've come to this city to live. I don't like crime lowering the joy of that living. Where there is crime you can be sure I'll be found fighting it. "And, speaking of criminals, I understand that the villain known as Dark Damsel has been running free and clear. No longer. This city isn't big enough for the both of us. Tomorrow on SMU-TV's early news I'll have a message for Dark Damsel. I think Hallowe'en is a good time to take that costumed phony off the streets for good. Rest easy, folks, soon she'll be in the hands of the Hub City Police Force." Renee cursed. That bitch! Someone would be in the hands of the Hub City Police Department, all right, and that someone would be Shamrock. Chapter 9 The morning was bright and clear. The weather forecaster told of record warmth to come. Sunday October 31st. Hallowe'en. The city would be alive with parties and costumed party-goers. Many of those costumed would be in the guise of Dark Damsel. It would be the perfect time for the real Dark Damsel to be out and about, for how would the police be able to tell one Dark Damsel from the next? They wouldn't be able to, Renee decided. So, Dark Damsel would prowl the streets once more and she'd find Shamrock and make her pay. Renee looked at her stuffed Tiger. "It's going to be a good night, Nietzsche," she told him. "Today I'm going to put and end to it all and then we'll be able to get back to our lives. How's that sound?" Nietzsche, as usual merely looked upon her, holding whatever he was thinking inside. He was a good companion, Renee thought. Never complained and never told her she was mistaken. She stretched out her muscles and began her morning exercises. Today would be the day. Rebecca Nasturant sat in her car opposite Renee Jimson's apartment building. She'd already been there an hour and she was prepared to be there as long as it took. Why Renee would turn to a life of crime, Rebecca didn't know. All she knew was that someone had to stop her before she killed. And that someone would be her--and Bill, of course. And today would be the day. Rebecca didn't know what the new costumed heroine had in mind and she didn't care. The woman with the light Irish lilt to her voice would be too late. Besides, the last thing the Hub City needed was another costumed vigilante. They'd had Dark Damsel, and look how she'd turned out in the end. No, it was time. Today would be the day. She stiffened. Renee Jimson stepped out the front door and began walking down the street towards the subway station. Rebecca slipped from the car and began to follow her. There was no way the Officer was going to lose her. This would be her day. Colleen O'Brien looked in the mirror and smiled a wicked smile. Today would be the start of her campaign to regain chairmanship of the Organization. First she would bring in Dark Damsel and regain her membership. Then she would use Sean and his Irish Gang to back her play in unseating that bitch Royale. They would make good little storm-troopers. It was also the last day she'd have to let Sean take her ass. It was humiliating. She'd never had such trouble leading a man before. But Sean was something else. He never gave an inch. And every night--and most mornings--he'd insist in putting it to Colleen right where she didn't want it. Trouble was, he was good. She was starting to enjoy it, which angered her all the more. Colleen took a deep breath and relaxed. It didn't matter any more. Today was the day. Today it all ended and today it all began. She smiled at Sean who woke up and whistled at her. She knew she looked good. She was just itching for the showdown with Dark Damsel. Everything was prepared. All she had to do was do it. "Come here lassie," Sean told her, forgetting to put on his Irish accent. "I'm hot and I'm ready." Colleen smiled brightly, but the smile didn't touch her eyes. She needed Sean now, but later . . . Obediently, Colleen got on the bed, positioned herself on hands and knees, then lowered upper body to the mattress. She reached back and spread her cheeks for him, enjoyed the feel of his finger lubing her, then grunted as he slowly pushed his way up her ass. Soon he was moving in and out at speed and she reached between her legs and began to stroke herself. It felt so good and the rhythm of the trusts along with her finger was driving her ever higher. She thought of the tape she'd made Megan give her. Thought of how, after Diane had whipped the poor blonde's ass until it was a lovely red, Diane had cinched up the strap-on, then moved the camera until it caught the action from the side. Diane had turned Megan's face to the camera, and the gagged woman had closed her eyes in resignation after her headshake was ignored. Tears appeared and ran down, soaking the sheet, then Megan's eyes snapped open as Diane forcefully thrust into her. Colleen had been surprised at Diane's endurance; had laughed at the tears; had, above all, enjoyed the unknowing non-consensual taking of Megan. Remembering, she laughed between grunts as Sean stepped up the pace again. Colleen was on fire. She was going to go over. All it would take was one more feeling. She pictured Dark Damsel, forced to take it up the rear, just as she was now being taken up the rear. And she felt the power she would feel, the victory as she, like Diane, abused a tied-down whimpering woman. She screamed and collapsed. Sean roared out his victory a few strokes later and let himself go on top of her. "That was a good one," Sean murmured in her ear when he had recovered somewhat. "A good one," Colleen agreed, somewhat surprised at the fact that she was telling the truth. "It'll be better after tonight," she promised, and received a warm pat on her ass as Sean arose and headed for the shower. A few minutes later she followed him. "Are we all ready for the courier?" she asked as she entered the shower behind him. "Don't you think you should be concentrating on Dark Damsel?" "Just one more daylight job by 'Dark Damsel' to remove the last of the feeling this city has for her. Then they'll welcome their savior, 'Shamrock'," Colleen laughed malevolently. "As you wish. It's your day." "Today is going to be a good one," Colleen agreed. She would need to be at the top of her form, Renee thought. Odds were that Shamrock would have some nasty tricks up her sleeve, and likely some back up as well. It wouldn't hurt for her to have some back-up as well, she decided. She went over the list in her mind. Of all her possible choices, only Minx was a likely candidate. The police would simply arrest her. She headed for William's dojo. A good light workout was needed to get her ready. She contemplated William, but how could she ask his help without revealing her identity as Dark Damsel? And, even if she could do that, would he believe her innocent? No, it wasn't worth the risk, even though she needed him. "Hi, William. Glad you could accommodate me," she greeted him. William gave a short bow, but something about his eyes seemed guarded. Perhaps he'd had some bad news in his personal life, Renee thought. The sparring went well. She felt light and strong. A good day for a fight. A good day for Dark Damsel to repay Shamrock for the indignities suffered by Renee Jimson. She and William bowed to each other and stood for a few moments discussing her training. Renee looked up at the clock meaningfully and William nodded, picking up an apple from a basket of fruit. Renee smiled her thanks to him and headed for the showers just as the telephone rang. Something occurred to her and she turned back, reaching the office door just after William had picked up. "No," he was saying, "you haven't lost her. She's here." The apple in his mouth changed his voice in a way that Renee thought she'd heard before. Renee froze and backed up a step to be out of his sight. "Yes, Kitty, I still think you are wrong, but I'll be there for you." Renee stumbled backwards not able to think. That voice! Kitty! "Oh, no," she whispered, and grabbed at her bag, "it just couldn't be . . ." Renee took the stairs two at a time. She'd shower at her hideout. She'd not stay another second here. Some minutes later, in the shower, tears began running down her face. There was no doubt about it. William could be none other than 'The Photographer', the man who had abused Dark Damsel to teach her a lesson. That meant that Rebecca was Kitty. And she'd thought of them as friends. How they must have been laughing at her! She'd never felt so betrayed in all her life. Slowly the tears stopped. It didn't matter. She'd have to go on, regardless. Deal with Shamrock, then figure out what she was going to do about Rebecca and William. Royale put her feet up on the desk and leaned backwards. This was it, the last day for O'Brien to get Dark Damsel. And, after her failure, she would be reeled in to face the wrath of the Organization in the person of Royale. Finally her long standing resentment of the smaller woman would be allowed full rein. Colleen was definitely not going to enjoy her life after she was brought in. Royale reviewed the announcement which 'Shamrock' had made on TV. She knew Colleen and had studied Dark Damsel. Colleen did not have the skill to come out on top in a face to face match. She would have to use cunning and foul play. It didn't matter. One way or another, Colleen would lose, then she would belong to Royale. Royale smiled contentedly as she considered that. It had been fun using Colleen on the day of her punishment. This would be even better. There being no business of note for the Chairman, pro tem, Royale relaxed into her chair, pushed a button on her remote and settled in to watch the edited tape of Colleen's punishment once again. She snickered as she watched herself whip the redheaded bitch. "That's just a taste of things to come, just a taste," she chuckled to the empty room. She glanced up at the clock. It was going to be a day of anticipation. A good day. "Megan, why?" Diane asked. "I just have to leave town, Diane. Don't ask any questions. You really don't want to know the answers to them." Megan wiped the tears from Diane's face and kissed her gently. "If this has anything to do with the other day . . ." "No, Diane," Megan said gently, "it has nothing to do with that. I'm glad you had fun with me. I'm glad I was able to experience the other side . . . and that you were, too." Diane looked even more confused. "Then why . . ." "Diane, please." Megan turned back to the files and made notations where notations were needed. "You'll be fine. You know as much about the business as I do. And I'll send you designs and such over the internet. It'll all work out fine." "But you won't be here." Megan looked up as Diane choked back a sob. That bitch Lucy, aka Colleen, she thought. But it wasn't safe to stay, she couldn't stay. Not with what she knew. Colleen would be sure to make it safe for herself and there was only one way in which that could be accomplished. She looked around the shop with regret. It had taken her years to build up a clientele, taken her years to make this place pay. Now that she was finally on the way up, Colleen was taking it all away from her. It wasn't fair. She looked at the clock. Not much time to wrap it all up. Her plane left at 11:00. Eight hours. Eight long hours. It was a bad day. "No, I won't be here. But Suzanne will. She'll need you and I'll still need you. The business must go on." Megan paused and let out a deep sigh. "Let's not talk about it any more." "Let's turn on the Channel 69," Diane suggested. "I'd like to see what that redhead is going to do about Dark Damsel, and the early news is on at 4:30." "Redhead?" The courier looked out of the airport limousine window, up to the digital clock on the corner of Main and 10th. It read 3:02. He was precisely on time. He exited the car and began the short walk to the hotel. From seemingly out of nowhere he was struck a blow which sent him reeling. His hand went into his coat and came out with a revolver, but a kick sent that it spinning and him falling. He rolled over quickly and was on his way to his feet when a kick caught him in the ribs, flipping him over. For the first time he saw his attacker. It was a raven haired woman in the costume the recognized as Dark Damsel's. She laughed at his astonishment and kicked him in the jaw. People in the street were shocked by the sudden violence, shocked at what they were seeing. The man in the van could read their faces. It was clear that they hadn't believed the stories about Dark Damsel. Now that proof was right in front of them, they were having to reassess what they thought they knew and no one liked being faced with proof that they had been wrong. He turned his gaze back to the confrontation. It was over. The man lay bleeding on the sidewalk and Dark Damsel was removing the cuff which held the briefcase to his wrist. She gave him a final kick for good measure then loped to the van. "Wasn't that a bit much?" Sean asked her as they sped off. He glanced at his watch. Two minutes was all it had taken. Two violent minutes. "An object lesson and the more angry the public is at Dark Damsel, the more readily Shamrock will be accepted," the false Dark Damsel grinned at Sean and ducked down where she couldn't be seen from outside. Colleen removed the cowl and wig as he drove. She then removed the rest of the costume and began to dress as 'Shamrock'. She was just brushing out her red hair when the van turned into the underground parking at the Hub City Hotel. She put on an long coat and grinned at the driver. "Almost there, Sean, almost there." The two of them exited the van, went up to the lobby, out through the front door and crossed the street. Colleen looked up as they crossed. "It's there," Sean confirmed. "Should be almost invisible, though." Ray Barton looked up as Rebecca Nasturant burst in on him, out of breath. He grinned at her. "Well, I hope your day of snooping around was profitable. You'll have to tell me about it sometime." He looked her up and down and whistled appreciatively. "So, Catwoman, are you ready to go to the party? I knew I should have gone as Batman, but what you see is what you get." He stood and turned around for her, picking up a white Stetson and placing it on his head as he did." "Where's Tonto?" Rebecca asked, looking as if she wanted to say more, but was unable to. Ray wondered what she had been doing. She was supposed to have been helping him with his anti-crime Web Page, but had begged him for time off to do a little detective work. Ah, well, she'd tell him sooner or later, he supposed. "Tonto couldn't make it, but I'd be more than happy to go with Catwoman on my arm," he suggested lightly, but the slight husk in his voice game him away and Rebecca's eyes widened just a little before she caught herself. Before she could speak, however, he jumped for the little TV which perched on the file cabinet. "It's 4:30. Time to watch smut TV." The TV flickered to life. "And here is the early news on SMU-TV," the announcer said. "At the top of the news is an interview with Hub City's latest crime-fighter. We have her issuing a challenge to Dark Damsel. Dark Damsel, as we all know, has turned bad, spawning a crime-wave of tsunami proportions. Let's go now to Dave, our intrepid reporter." "It is a pleasure to meet you in person," the reporter sucked up to the masked and costumed woman. "What should I call you?" "Thank-you, Dave. The name is Shamrock, and I have a message for Dark Damsel, current terror of the Hub City. Dark Damsel: You are a coward and a fraud. I will meet you alone 650 more and three blocks less than our last meeting. I will be alone. If you haven't the guts to meet me, know this: I will then hunt you down with all the resources at my disposal. If you meet me and are victorious, I'll let you be. Be there at 5 p.m. The doors will be open for you." "Wow! That's pretty strong stuff," Dave gushed. "Do you think Dark Damsel will rise to the challenge?" "She may be a coward, but she'll come. She'll have to in order to be able to feel safe in the future. But don't you worry. I'm better than she is and when I'm finished with her I'll hand her over to the police. I'll not have someone like Dark Damsel ruin the city where I live!" "Thank you, Shamrock." "Yes," the anchor repeated, "Thank you, Shamrock. That message was taped last night, and the two should be meeting in about 30 minutes from now. Shamrock has agreed to another interview afterwards, so don't change stations." Ray Barton was pale as he turned off the little television. He began quickly searching through a notebook. At that moment there was a knock on the door and Green Lantern appeared. "Hi, William." Rebecca introduced the two men. "Ray (Lone Ranger) Barton, this is my dear friend William, aka Green Lantern." Ray looked up. "Sorry guys, I think I can figure out where Dark Damsel is going to be in half an hour, so I'll have to miss the party." "We're going with you," Rebecca told him. Ray looked up, hearing the determination in her voice. Her face was set; she would brook no interference. He considered for two seconds, then nodded. Dark Damsel had heard the broadcast. She looked up the address of the Clarke building. To it she added 650. That would make it 990 and the Clarke building was on 15th. Less three made the address 990-12th Street. Opposite the Hub City Hotel, she realized. She glanced at her clock. Time to be gone. On her motorbike Dark Damsel felt conspicuous and vulnerable. The police were after her. Her meeting with Minx had been less than auspicious. Perhaps an alley-way wasn't the best place to talk, but Minx had turned her down flat. Didn't want to be involved with a criminal, she'd told Dark Damsel shortly, before turning and walking away. Hurt, Dark Damsel had walked back to her bike in a fog, not seeing the watchful eyes of a not so drunk bum who was pretending to take the odd swig from a paper bag. Alone. The rage built in her, chasing away all the feelings of vulnerability. Shamrock had put her in this position and Shamrock would pay for it. With cold anger driving her she pulled up in front of 990-12th. The building should have been all locked up on a Sunday, but the doors, as promised, were open. She stepped through them cautiously and looked around. The guard's kiosk was empty. She walked over and looked inside. A man in a guard's uniform lay on the floor, unconscious. He was breathing, so Dark Damsel turned and went to the bank of elevators. One was propped open, with a neatly written sign inside. "DARK DAMSEL: The roof." She considered taking the stairs, but decided that walking up 15 flights wouldn't be a good prelude to a fight. Instead, she stepped inside, turned the key which had locked the elevator open and pressed the button for the top floor. She breathed slowly and deeply. Dark Damsel exited the elevator and crossed to the stairs. The landing was empty. She slowly mounted the final flight to the roof. No traps were evident. The door at the top was unlocked and swung open silently on well oiled hinges. As it started to close again, Dark Damsel dived through, somersaulting and returning to her feet in an eyeblink. Nothing. Suddenly there were three light explosions and three columns of smoke rose on the roof. Through one of them stepped Shamrock. She had a wide smile on her face. "Welcome to Hell, Dark Damsel!" End of part 2/4 Dark Damsel: Betrayals By echo@nym.alias.net -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+