(Author's note:
2020 was rough and kept me working overtime.
Sorry it took so long.
I told myself I'd use an editor this time around, alas it did not happen.
Maybe next time.)
It had been 38 hours now without sleep. 38 hours since she had woken up screaming and shaking again from her second lurid dream. She dreaded the thought of having to live through her next humiliating nightmare. She knew it wasn't that now. A nightmare. No, two nights back to back meant something real. It had been too real, like the last one. Too many details to be some twisted lewd dream. A new aspect of her precognition gift taking form. An omen. It had to be some sort of advanced warning or survival instinct kicking in. And that scared her more than anything else.
Vivian had been a wreck the first morning. It was a miracle she even made it to class earlier in the day. She felt like she was sitting on death row, watching the clock slowly tick away her last days of freedom. She couldn't concentrate, especially when her professor droned on and on about economic impact of something or other. Her ultimate end playing out in lurid detail the past two nights was still fresh in her mind and very distracting. The mighty Mamba brought low and turned into a sexual plaything for her tormentor. Thoroughly used and fucked in front of Omega. Humiliated and forced to come on her master's cock so easily. It was enough to make her sick to her stomach. Even more so when she found her panties damp after class.
But fear was also one hell of a motivator. Steeling her nerves she pushed the fear and humiliation down deep and set herself to task, determined to master her own destiny and take down who ever the hell this bastard Simon was. Moving forward was the only thing she could do now and it made her feel more in control as she set about locating her new nemesis. She let her self smile briefly. A nemesis. Well that's something a real superhero would have she thought. Welcome to the big leagues she told herself with a sigh as she picked and stared at her pre-made cafeteria salad. She had lost her appetite.
Vivian spent the rest of the day trying to remember every detail of her vision for clues. Trying to piece together any evidence as to who this Simon was. Ultimately it had been a waste of time. His features had always been hidden in murky shadows. Her mind unable or refusing to register the face of her tormentor in detail. She didn't know what that meant. She could clearly see Omega's face and she never had anyone's face hidden from her in any of her other visions. Another puzzle of her powers she would have to solve at a later date. She'd see his face behind bars soon enough she told herself.
Vivian may not know who she was looking for, but at least she knew where he was. Well, at least she thought she did until she tried to dig up some intel by calling up the casino and asking to be connected to the penthouse suite. The bubbly receptionist had told her it was currently available and able to be reserved for the next few months. She did her best trying to sell Vivian on making reservations and tempting her with various packaged deals and show tickets before Vivian just hung up on her. It dawned on her that she didn't even know how much time she had left. Tomorrow? A week? Years? Either way, she couldn't afford to wait and find out.
Her only other clue was his name. Simon. Probably an alias for his gift. If he was truly claiming the city bit by bit from the shadows like her vision had implied, then certainly some of the underworld's more informed players would have heard of him. A new gifted crime boss wouldn't go unnoticed for long in this city and she doubted there was little honor among the thieves of Porthaven. The rats would probably be happy to get rid of another mouth nibbling on their cheese. The Black Mamba decided a shakedown was in order and luckily for Vivian she knew just the rat to squeeze.
Johnny "The Vulture" Stevens was one of those crooks that somehow always seemed to weasel his way into practically every underhanded deal or job around Porthaven yet never seemed to get his hand caught in the cookie jar. One of those too smart for his own good middleman hoods that thought they were slicker than they really were, except in Johnny's case he actual was. No matter how many times his name popped up in criminal cases the police never could seem to catch him in the act with the other criminals or with any illicit goods on him. And the few times he had been arrested, he always seemed to be out on the streets the next day and his charges dropped or dismissed. A few of Porthaven's thugs claim he was a rat and possible informant, but they could never prove it, despite this he had a stellar reputation among the crooks and gangs of Porthaven. The streets had nicknamed him The Vulture because he seemed to always get a slice of the pie while never actually doing any of the work. He mainly fenced stolen goods and sold information on lucrative scores to other would be criminals out of one of the VIP rooms of a strip club called the "The Neon Garter".
The Black Mamba had on two separate occasions tailed contraband back to the club before snatching her prey from the back parking lot before they could off load their goods. She had gotten Johnny's name out of one of the thugs on a past encounter and called in an anonymous tip to have the club raided by the police. Unfortunately they had once again come up short on anything they could pin on Johnny and she had been itching to have another crack at him. She wouldn't let him slip through the cracks tonight.
A cool breeze rustled through the leaves of the tall of line of trees running along the bank of the Green river that cut through the outskirts of Porthaven's industrial district. The Black Mamba sat crouched watching among the darkened foliage of the trees. Midnight cloaked the darkened street save for the flickering street light and soft humming glow of of the strip club's pink neon sign. Busy night she thought, as she scanned the parking lot of cars for signs of trouble. She sighed, tucking her small hand scope back into her pouch. This would be the first time she set foot in the club. First time she set foot into any strip club for that matter and she didn't know what to expect. Drunk men and scantily clad girls would be a good guess even without her precognition abilities. Vivian hadn't had a vision to guide her approach on this, but she told herself that was a probably a good thing because it meant there was no real danger to worry about.
"Ok, Vee. Lets do this." she psyched herself up before letting herself fall backwards into the shadows of the darkened trees, only to step out from behind the shadow of truck parked near the rear of the lot. She quickly and quietly darted to the rear entrance. Finding the door locked, she made quick work with her lock picks before slipping inside undetected.
Or would have, had she not walked directly into the backstage changing room the erotic dancers used.
"Ha! That's a great outfit! They're gonna eat that up. Black Cobra right?" a perky redhead giggled as she clipped the tops of her neon green thigh highs to her matching garter belt and stepped into her g-string. It barely covered her her pussy and the mesh was thin enough to make out the thin crimson landing strip and puffy lips of her sex as it hugged against her smooth skin.
"Um... Mamba actually." Vee replied nonchalantly scanning the room for any dangers or signs of where the VIP rooms may be located. She couldn't find either, just the backdoor she came through, an open bathroom and a single hallway leading back towards the electronic music and neon glow of the what she could only guess was the main stage.
