Issue 13 ~ The Chemistry of Evil
Prologue
(A few minutes ago.)
The red head's pretty green eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused. She blinked trying to clear them, even as a piercing ache crept through her skull. It took a concerted effort just to lift her head. Although her vision had not cleared, she was beginning to make out blurred shapes in the dark room around her.
What the hell...?
Starling thought through the pain.
Where am I?
Shifting uncomfortably, she quickly realized that her arms had been pulled behind her back, the all-to-familiar feel of plastic cord encircling her wrists! She was lying on a concrete floor, and as she began to pull against her binding, she discovered her legs had been bound as well. That unmistakable sensation just above her knees and ankles, wrapped, knotted and cinched tight.
Starling rolled and thrashed, feeling panic edging into her foggy mind. Her bonds were so tight she could barely move at all, and when she tried, they cut painfully into her delicate alabaster skin. Still she strained against them, letting out a sharp moan of distress...the muffled sound of which alerted her to the thick cloth thread between her lips!
Gagged too? Oh no! What has happened to me? Why can't I remember?
The panic fueled surge of adrenaline cleared her vision, and she realized she was in some kind of store room. It was dark, but she could make out cases of beer and alcohol pushed against the walls, along with numerous kegs.
The bar! Oh yes, the bar...
she remembered.
But how did I get here? And what happened to...
Her attention was drawn suddenly by the sound of fearful whimpering. Glancing around, Starling found the source immediately. Another woman lay not far off, wearing a familiar beige tube top with a black miniskirt. She was bound just the same as Starling, arms pulled back, long, slender legs lashed together, and a thick cleavegag knotted around her pretty face as well. She looked towards Starling, shaking back thick brunette locks to reveal rich brown eyes, glistening with fear.
...Lacey! No!
Starling screamed in her head.
I knew this was a bad idea, how could I have put you at risk this way!
Starling tried to scoot toward the other woman, hoping to comfort with proximity if nothing else. However, her bonds made even that much, painful and difficult. After a moment of fruitless squirming, she slumped on the floor and when her gaze met Lacey's once more, she could not keep the fear from flashing through her own green eyes.
A moment of empathic dread passed between them, as the two women realized they were both equally helpless!
Then the door to the store room opened, and two men entered. Starling recognized the larger immediately, his name was Ox. The other was familiar, he might have been the bartender...but their brief meeting at the beginning of the night seemed a hundred years ago now.
Starling struggled into a half-seated position, as Ox came towards her, checking to make sure her bondage was secure. The helpless red head squirmed and snarled at him through her gag.
"Stay down, bitch!" he snapped, giving her a stiff back hand.
Starling flopped onto the floor from the force of the blow. Across the way, Lacey squealed angrily seeing her friend struck. The bartender had been checking her bindings, but now he grabbed her bare shoulders, and lifted the brunette onto her knees.
"What's the matter, cutie?" he taunted.
"I don't think she likes watching me hurt her friend," Ox said as his big boot blasted into Starling's side!
The red head screamed into her gag as all the air left her lungs and pain rippled through every curve of her body. As much as her bondage would allow, she curled into a ball, gasping in agony.
Lacey thrashed and growled into her gag. The two men chuckled at her unintelligible protests.
"That one's got some spunk," Ox grinned.
The bartender leaned down, speaking directly into her ear. "Maybe you can keep us distracted, and we won't have to hurt her any more..."
Starling could only watch as the goon reached around, and yanked down the other woman's beige tube top. Lacey whimpered indignantly as her perky, B-cups were exposed in a flash. She looked at Starling; brown eyes round as saucers, brimming with tears, teeth clenched around the cleavegag, an expression of abject humiliation that Starling, herself had worn enough times to recognize instantly.
In the next instant, the bartender's hands were reaching down to cup those perky tits. Lacey squirmed as he began to fondle her. The big hands cupped and squeezed, so unsettling in their masculinity to the captive lesbian. Her rose colored nipples responded immediately, standing up eagerly between his rough fingers, despite her discomfort at being groped by a man for the first time since she was teenager.
Starling could see the familiar tumult of emotions playing across the brunette's face: embarrassment, disgust, shame, anger, despair and then back through the loop again. The captive red head knew all too well the emotional distress of being tied up and molested by a lustful captor.
Watching this might be even worse than when it happens to me!
She thought, as the man continued kneading her friend's supple breasts.
If I could trade places with you, I would...oh gawd, I'm going to be next regardless aren't I?
As if on cue, Ox's big hands grabbed her soft, narrow shoulders. He lifted her off the ground, positioning the captive red head, likewise on her knees, across from her brunette counterpart. She growled fiercely into her gag, even as he pushed aside her crimson locks and unclasped her halter top. The front of her dress to fell open, revealing the soft, pink nubs on the tips of her plump, round D-cups. Her futile protest became a helpless whimper, as big hands closed around her fleshy orbs, squeezing tightly.
The captive women locked eyes, each realizing she was powerless to help her friend...and yet fully aware they were both about to become victims, as there was no way to stop these men from having their way with them!
Chapter One
(Last night.)
Starling Chase had never felt more like an actual superheroine than she did at that moment; swooping down out of the cool, night sky for a clandestine meeting with the Chief of Police on the roof of City Hall.
She was wearing a brand-new uniform, so the white spandex bustier and matching bikini bottoms clinging to her hourglass figure were in pristine condition. As were the glittering gold boots at the end of her mile-long stems. There was a slight breeze whipping at her lustrous crimson locks, blowing them back from her beautiful, masked face.
Where are those damn paparazzi now?
She thought, imaging how THIS image would look posted all across the internet.
"Good evening Chief Maddox," she said, alighting behind him.
The man jumped slightly, and whirled around. His gaze crawled over her scantily clad body, and he swallowed hard. The gorgeous young heroine couldn't hide her smirk. He was a fairly handsome man, he could easily be her type if he hadn't been old enough to be her father.
"And to you miss...erm, Dove?" he stammered a bit. "I guess I don't know what to call you..."
"I imagine the less you have to call me the better," she replied with a green-eyed wink.
"I imagine so," he nodded. "It's good to see you back in uniform, you didn't look in too good of a state last night."
The Scarlet Dove blushed under her white feathered mask. "Let's just say it was a good thing you came along when you did."
"Does that kind of thing happen to you often?"
