CHAPTER TWO: THE SET UP
The Lancing Brothers robbed the Elder Street branch of Schache and Rust at 3:30pm on a Thursday. They made off with $8 million in cash and six hours later they were captured by police in a warehouse they'd rented, in a most... awkward situation.
Detective Lewis Johnson of the Rust City Police Department sighed. The Lancing brothers robbing banks now? Everything had gone to shit since mayor White resigned. Crime rates up, chaos downtown, lobbyists and criminals alike circling like vultures to the pick the meat off the city's bones, now she was without a figurehead.
But the worst part was this... this
woman
sitting across from him. The "hero" they called Misogyny Woman. She made his skin crawl. She'd 'caught' the Lancings, if that's how you wanted to describe it. They were just another in a long list of 'captured' crooks.
The first time he'd encountered her he'd been in a car chase. They'd chased an erratic driver through seven blocks of traffic before he suddenly slowed down. It had been a mystery as to why, until they found Misogyny Woman with her hand on the brake and the man's dick in her mouth. All the other officers clapped but Johnson just seethed.
The next time they'd met, she'd been bouncing on the cock of a spindly little accountant who had embezzled $3.3 million from his clients. Johnson could never forget the sight of the little man's curly red hair sprouting from between her breasts as she smothered him with her cleavage.
The accountant had been shredding documents when she... distracted him. He hadn't finished the job, so the case was a slam dunk. Man plead guilty, got nine years.
And now she was here for the first time, in his interview room where Johnson had all the power. She'd been surprisingly quick to respond to his invitation for an interview.
With her big doe eyes that glanced naively around the room and pouty lips, pursed curiously; she was an interesting lady that's for sure. Interesting in the sense that everything about her was ludicrous. She was a hero... because she let the bad guys fuck her until the cops arrived. And it worked - every single damn time. She was yet to find one lowlife in the city she couldn't seduce. It made Johnson angry.
And that was even before one noticed the outrageous costume she wore! It was a white and gold onepiece, with a cream half-cape flowing from her shoulders, framing her chest. Her huge breasts strained dangerously against the costume's fabric, threatening to burst free at any moment. He, a veteran of twenty-nine years on the force, was struggling to maintain eye contact.
Yet this was the city's saviour; the hero who was being lauded for helping clean up the city? The answer to the growing crime and violence in Rust City was... some busty bimbo in a leotard who liked getting spanked? It was frankly absurd.
Admittedly, she had wracked up an impressive list of villains she'd sent to jail. Lombardo, the Silas Twins, Junior Spiletti, just to name a few. That's why everyone put up with her. Because she was pretty and she had lucked into helping capture some big names. People forgot it was still the cops who arrested these felons. Instead they paraded the figure of Misogyny Woman around like she was some sick superman knockoff.
But not Lewis Johnson. She wasn't going to get any special treatment from him. All she was doing was filling up Rust City's prisons, at a time when they didn't need more filling.
Not to mention she was making the police force look bad, swooping in and capturing all these crooks. It was a bad look; made everyone think the cops were chasing their own tails all the time.
"We need a name," Johnson said, leaning forward. "The Lancings wouldn't just rob a bank without someone's say so. Not like this, not in broad daylight. Are you
sure
they didn't mention someone? Anyone?"
"I can't remember." Misogyny Woman replied, shaking her head apologetically. "Once I started cumming... it was just a haze."
"Really?" Johnson replied, cocking his head to the side.
"Uh huh." Misogyny Woman nodded. Her breasts bobbled. "Can I speak to Captain Haver?"
"Haver isn't here. It's just you and me."
"Oh." Misogyny Woman replied. Johnson sat back.
"What kind of so-called crime fighter doesn't look at the bigger picture?" He sneered.
"I... I um, well my mind was elsewhere." Misogyny Woman replied, biting her lip, eyelashes fluttering. God she was infuriating. He couldn't believe this stupid woman was being given all the praise and plaudits she was.
"Clearly." Johnson grunted, twirling his pen between his fingers.
"I don't know what you want from me, the brothers are in the lockup. You have all the evidence needed to put them away for years. Decades even, given their histories."
"But we still don't have who gave the go-ahead. With Lombardo out of the picture
someone's
out there giving permission. This is Rust City."
"Or they used the power vacuum to go out on their own," Misogyny Woman said, smiling sweetly. Against the dull color palette of the interview room, she seemed to glow even brighter. Johnson scowled.
"Maybe." He shrugged. "But they're the Lancings! They rip off trucks and the occasional gas station. If they're robbing banks, someone must have put them up to it."
"Isn't that
your
job? I never claimed to the world's greatest detective." She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against the edge of the table. Johnson's cock twitched in his pants. "Is that it, Detective? You want me to do your job for you? Solve all the crimes?"
"Look," Johnson sighed, tearing his gaze away from the woman's cleavage. "Let's just go from the top again. What were you doing when you arrived at the warehouse?"
Misogyny Woman yawned. Under the table, she idly pushed her suit's crotch to the side. Her fingertips brushed her sex.
"It's like I said..." she began.
***
"Hello boys, up to no good are we?" Misogyny Woman admired her fingernails in the dim light of the room. It had been remarkably easy to gain access to the complex without raising the alarm. For three master robbers, the Lancing brothers sure were careless.
The men turned on their heels in surprise. One of them - tall and brawny, with a shaved head and a big nose - sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.
"It's
you
is it?" Big Nose asked, crossing his arms. He must be Angus, the eldest brother and leader of the three. Behind him sat a pile of neat stacks of money - they'd obviously just been counting it. Somewhere in the region of $6 million, according to the police scanner. That's a lot of money.
"I believe I'm me," Misogyny Woman replied, smiling sweetly.
"You believe so?"
"That's correct."
"Don't get smart with me, bitch."
"Can't a girl get an introduction around here? I believe you're Angus."
Angus didn't reply, he just narrowed his eyes.
"Well handsome," Misogyny Woman continued, "how do you expect to get anywhere with all that money? If I can work out it was you, so can your competitors."
"That's none of your business slut." One brother, to the left of Angus, spat. Judging by his heavier build, the shaved head and strikingly handsome features, this was Francis, the middle brother.
"It's been arranged." The third sneered. He was the youngest brother, and far cuter than he had any right to be. His jawline could cut wood for a start. He was tall and leaner than his brothers. He had intense blue eyes, and an eyebrow piercing that glinted in the dim light.
"Shut up, both of you." Angus snapped, without taking his eyes off of the hero in front of him. Full credit to the man, he was doing an exemplary job of maintaining eye contact, given the circumstances. Misogyny Woman smiled.
"There's really only two outcomes, don't you think?" She said, cocking her head to the side. "Either you end up dead or in prison."
The brother to the left was quick, she'll give him that. He'd drawn his gun and fired off several shots in a matter of seconds. He got an A+ for effort, Misogyny Woman thought to herself as the bullets bounced off her breasts, landing - ping, ping - harmlessly on the floor. She was unharmed, the only evidence of gunfire being the singed holes in her outfit where the shots had hit her.
"Ooh that tickled!" She giggled. The man stared at her, and then his gun, horrified. His brothers furrowed their brows. Men were cute when they're angry. Sexy even. She wanted them to hit her.
"Enough!" Angus - Big Nose - snapped, ripping the gun from his younger brother's hand. "What do you want, slut?" he said, setting it on the table.
"I just want you to know the pickle you're in. Sure you could try to escape, make a run for it. You might even make it to the border, who knows. But by then there'll be warrants out for your arrest and you'll have a target on your back."
"And? You think we don't know this?"
"I think you're in above your head."
"Go fuck yourself."
"Fine. Run. But if I were you? I'd stay here and take your frustrations out on the woman in the onepiece."
"What?"
"Take all your frustrations out on me."
"Are you serious?"
Before she could answer, Barry the Youngest had surged forward and slapped her across the chest. Misogyny Woman squeaked in surprise and then giggled. She felt blood rush to her clit and grinned.
"Harder." she growled, seizing the moment. Barry hit her again, knocking one of her breasts free from her costume. He grabbed it and began roughly groping her, squeezing the sensitive flesh.
"What about you?" The superhero groaned, turning her gaze to Francis. "Don't you want to pull my hair?"
Francis looked at Angus and then back at her. Angus sighed and then shrugged. A mean grin spread across the middle Lancing brother's face and he surged forward, taking a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back and twisting her body around so he could spank her rump.
They were quite the duo. Francis held her by the hair and slapped her ass while Barry slapped her tits. They didn't hold back; her ass jiggled with each blow, her breasts swung like pendulums.
"Come on boys!" Misogyny Woman roared, as the heat between her legs started to seep down her thigh.
The pain was incredible. These were big, muscular men and when they hit her it left a mark. She squealed in pain and giggled with delight. There wasn't a direction she could turn where a part of her wasn't being slapped or spanked. Francis may have been stronger, his blows harder, but Barry had hands like dinnerplates and knew how to use them.
Every hit made her inch closer to that blessed orgasm. Every time she felt those male hands on her. Those men, who knew they could do whatever they wanted to her and she wouldn't say no. Men unleashed their sexuality upon her. She was a vessel for them - and their undoing.
"Stop." Angus finally spoke. The two brothers hitting her stopped. Her tits and ass burned - she knew they would be developing a lovely red blush.
Misogyny Woman peeked an eye open, and saw Angus staring at her, his eyes clouded over with a familiar lust. Misogyny Woman smiled. She had him.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the bulge at his crotch; he'd enjoyed watching his brothers manhandle her. He stepped forward her gaze slipped back up to his face.
"You are insane," he breathed, glancing her up and down, drinking in the view like she was a cocktail. Misogyny Woman smiled and clicked her fingers - her suit sparkled and then vanished. She was naked before the brothers.
