The Adventures of Star
Eagle
Episode 2
by L'Espion
Chapter
1
Simba
Lubaya
“Something interesting heading your way,
boss.” Rod Hiarath spoke
quietly into his cell phone. He
was perched in a window overlooking the street and it gave him a perfect
view of everything in it. He
had been watching the dark clad figure for a full minute as she worked her
way slowly up the street toward the warehouse that he was
guarding.
“How interesting? Stop playing
games and report. I didn’t
put you there to play twenty questions.”
Hiarath grinned, his gapped teeth gleaming in the light filtering through the window. He got a kick out of annoying Slash Morrison. It was a dangerous habit, but he couldn’t help himself. Being assigned to watch the street was incredibly boring. It was only on the rare occasion that anything at all happened and he liked to make the most of it. “Looks like a superheroine boss. The outfit she’s wearing is so tight she probably has an orgasm every time she walks a block.”
“Cut the crap, asshole. Just tell me what she looks like.”
“Tight fitting black outfit, boss. Covers her from head to toe. Great pair of tits though. She can’t hide hooters like those and I’m betting from the look of her twat she’s probably as tight as a nun.”
“Black huh? Doesn’t sound that bitch Star Eagle. Keep watching her and let me know what she gets up to.”
“It’ll be a pleasure, boss. I could watch that hot little body all night long.”
“Just make sure you don’t lose her, asshole. If she gets too close to the HQ let me know. It might be interesting to see if we can take her alive.”
Hiarath licked his lips. That idea appealed to him as well. He certainly didn’t mind watching her, even if she was covered from head to foot in tight fitting spandex. Every delicious curve of her marvelous body stood out, the muscles sliding smoothly over one another. She was moving very slowly, taking every precaution to ensure that she not be seen. But it was clear that her goal was Morrison’s headquarters. He wondered what had tipped her off to the location of the thug’s hideout. Morrison was such a careful criminal that it was rare for anyone to trace the various illegal activities he was involved in back to him.
He squinted into the darkness. She was very hard to see. Her night-black costume covered her entire body including her face. But she was unmistakably female. There was no hiding the swell of her bosom or the slender waist and flaring womanly hips.
He took out his phone again. It was answered on the first ring. “She’s just outside the door now boss. I could plug her from here if you like. You want me to try and take her alive?”
“That’s what I said,” answer Morrison impatiently. “Just stay on the line and tell me where she is. I’ll set up a reception committee. You able to tell if she’s got any special powers?”
“Don’t notice any. Far as I can tell she’s just a shapely broad in a cat suit.”
“Good,” Morrison said. “Maybe she’s just a martial artist with no special abilities. If we catch her we can have some real fun with her.”
“Looking forward to it, boss.” He peered intently into the dimly lit street. “She’s just outside the warehouse door now.”
“Right. Tell me if she does anything unusual. I’ll get ready to give her a warm welcome.”
Lubaya halted outside the door to the
warehouse. She was pretty sure
this was the right place. Warehouse
14,
She allowed herself a little smile. If only the smug reporters knew that the pretty girl with the flawless milk chocolate complexion was actually the newest of Grand Centre’s superheroines they would have paid a lot more attention to her. But how could they know? She had kept that part of her life a secret. Even her mother did not know of it, although she probably suspected something.
She wondered how much her mother did know about daughter’s abilities. She had certainly never mentioned anything that hinted that she knew, but Lubaya suspected that her mother was hiding her suspicions. Well, the suspicions were reciprocal. Lubaya had always wondered about her mother ever since the day ten years ago when she had gone into some sort of trance and had raved for hours about some bizarre experience. Lubaya had been too young at the time to understand much of what her mother was raving about, but she had understood enough to realize that it had been a frightening incident.
It was also quite unbelievable; even to an eight year old girl. Aliens did not abduct earth women and perform strange experiments on them. So far as Lubaya could determine such stories were just that – stories. However, at the age of thirteen something had happened to change her mind.
It started out innocently enough as many of these events did. Lubaya had been on her way home from school and she had made a little detour. It took her into a different neighbourhood. Even then Lubaya was an adventurous girl. Perhaps her name, Young Lioness, made her that way. Whatever the reason, she liked to discover new things. Going home by a different route was something she often did. This time, however, she had wandered into an area that the local street gang regarded as its private property. The gang had a way of dealing with intruders; it charged them a toll. The toll in Lubaya’s case turned out to be more than she felt like paying.
“You got no money, bitch? Then you pay with your ass.”
Lubaya had been absolutely terrified. She hardly even understood what the gang leader was talking about, but she had a strong suspicion that it would prove most degrading and painful.
“Don’t touch me!” she had cried as the young thug had reached for her. She would have run if she could, but she was surrounded by the other gang members. Her reaction got an immediate response. A dozen pairs of hands grabbed hold of her and in spite of her screams and protests they had hauled into a vacant house. It was only as they began to strip her clothes from her still-ripening schoolgirl body that she fully realized what was about to happen to her. As the mob forced her down she had shrieked in terror and then something incredible had happened. Tendrils of white light had snaked from her body and struck her attackers. There was a sizzling sound accompanied by the stench of burning flesh and clothing and suddenly her assailants were strewn on the floor, their clothes and bodies smoldering. Lubaya had not waited to appraise the situation. Finding herself free, she fled the neighbourhood as fast as her feet would carry her.
It was only when she got home, her clothing torn, and her body marked by scratches and bruises, that she had time to analyze the situation. Something miraculous had occurred. Somehow in her moment of sheer terror she had done something to repel her attackers; something quite out of the ordinary. Going over the situation she attempted to replicate what she had done. It took her several weeks before she was successful and once she had done it she was able to repeat it without effort; controlling what she could do was something else again.
She didn’t know how, but her body was capable of generating a tremendous jolt of electricity. She called it her “lightning strike.” It was an impressive power, capable of producing a jolt of electricity that was powerful enough to kill a man. At first it was a totally uncontrolled. She burned out quite a few lights and tripped the breakers in her mother’s apartment a number of times before she learned to regulate the voltage and direct the current where she wanted it to go. But gradually she got the power (pardon the pun) under control.
She realized at once that what she had was a superheroine power and then she recalled the time her mother had raved about her alien experience. It didn’t do her any good to ask, however. Her mother professed not to understand what Lubaya was talking about and eventually she gave up asking. Either her mother did not recall the experience or was choosing not to talk about it, and that amounted to the same thing. She decided that the way that she had acquired her powers did not really matter. What was important was that she had them and needed to learn to use them properly.
She got a part time job and used whatever money she made to join the local
Tae-Kwon-do club. If she was
going to be a superheroine she needed to train
hard. She had done just that,
achieving her black belt in just two
years. She seemed to have a natural
affinity for the art and kept working at it until she felt capable of handling
herself in almost any situation.
Reaching her eighteenth birthday she had garbed herself in a
She had a pretty good idea where to start. She had grown up surrounded by street gangs and petty thugs, and her internship at Eyewitness News had alerted her to the fact that they were not the main problem. Thugs like Slash Morrison were. It had taken her a week or so to learn the whereabouts of his hideout, but eventually she had tracked him down. Morrison was one of the most diversified of criminals, dealing in everything from drugs to gambling; with prostitution, the protection racket, and a little bit of murder thrown in for good measure. He had ruthlessly and brutally eliminated his rivals and expanded his empire to become the paramount criminal in Grand Centre. And now Lubaya intended to do something about him.
She really didn’t have too much of a plan other than to seek out the arch villain and confront him in his lair. Probably she should have thought things through better, but she was young and inexperienced and very confident of her strengths. And so she went straight at her objective. She was not, however, entirely stupid. She had chosen a costume that would blend in well with the night. It was absolutely black, from her leather boots, to her cowl, and the leather utility belt that contained what she hoped would be a few useful gadgets.
She was almost to the warehouse where Morrison had his HQ. A few quick steps brought her up to the loading dock. Cautiously she worked her way to the door. Silently she moved into the shadows provided by the building. It was dark and completely unlit except for a distant streetlamp. She tested the door. It was locked as she supposed it would be and she opened up her utility belt. The lock was a relatively simple one and the array of keys she produced provided one that fit. Carefully she pushed the door open and found herself in a long narrow isle created by piles of packing cases. Slowly she worked herself forward. Ahead she could see light and hear voices.
Slash Morrison checked over the invoices while at the same time listening on his cell phone. “She’s just going in now, boss,” came Hiarath’s voice. “I’m right behind her.”
“Good,” Morrison, replied. “Let her come. We’ll see what this heroine is made of.” He set down the phone and turned his attention to the man he had been torturing. “Now, about that last shipment of snow. Why was it five kilos light? You know I don’t like those kinds of discrepancies.”
Ken Stetsman ran his tongue over his bloodied lip. Please boss,” he gasped. “I wouldn’t cheat you.”
Morrison drove his fist into the man’s face. Stetsman couldn’t avoid the blow; his arms were tied to a large pallet that had been leaned up against some packing cases. “That isn’t what I asked,” Morrison said. “I want to know what happened to the rest of the cocaine.” He turned to another of his men. “Durand, work him over for a couple of minutes. Let’s put on a show for the heroine.”
Lubaya stepped into the light in the middle of the warehouse. It took the men who were beating up the thug tied to the pallet a few seconds to notice her. There were six of them, counting the man they had been beating. The powerfully built man in the centre of the room she recognized as Slash Morrison. She had no idea what the crime boss was up to, but this seemed like as good a time to intervene as any. The way one of the thugs was laying into the man tied to the pallet he wouldn’t last long.
She was a bit disconcerted by their reaction to her. There was hardly any reaction at all. “Well, look here. A woman all in black,” said Morrison. “Come to join the party?”
Lubaya placed her hands on her hips. It was a stance that she believed was emblematic of heroines. “The party’s over Morrison. I’m pretty sure the police will be most interested in what is going on here.”
“I think the party is just starting, babe. “Why don’t you take off a little bit of that outfit and let us have a better look at that gorgeous body of yours?”
Lubaya felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. She tried to think of a witty retort, but Morrison’s remark had caught her off guard. There was something wrong. The crime boss was too confident. She stepped forward. “I know you are armed. But your weapons are useless. Surrender now and no one will be hurt.”
“Funny,” replied Morrison, “I was going to make you the same offer.” He grinned widely.
She heard Hiarath just as he swung the sawn off baseball bat, but it was not soon enough. Blinding pain shot through her skull followed by blackness. “Good job,” said Morrison. “Tie her up and let’s have some fun with the bitch.”
Hiarath and another of Morrison’s henchmen took the fallen heroine under each of her arms and dragged her over to a rough wooden pallet that Morrison had been using as a crude table. “Damn, she’s a heavy bitch,” exclaimed Hiarath. “Built like a brick shithouse.”
“She’s built alright,” said the other man. “I’m really looking forward to getting a look at those big tits.”
“Stretch her out,” instructed Morrison as the two goons dumped her on the pallet.
“Right boss,” Hiarath answered. He arranged the heroine’s arms and legs so that she was spread-eagled on top of the rough wood and then secured them with several lengths of rope, winding it around and around her limbs until she was tightly bound to the pallet.
Morrison watched the proceedings with growing interest. The black clad heroine’s skin tight outfit hid very few of her charms. Why did those dumb bitches dress that way? Maybe they were all exhibitionist nymphomaniacs. Whatever the reason they could sure stretch that spandex. He could see every curve and crevice in that incredible body.
Hiarath had finally finished binding her. “Now let’s have a good look at her,” Morrison said, stretching out his hand and grabbing hold of her cowl.
“Well, well, looks like we found us some black pussy.” Lubaya’s perfect features were revealed. Her gleaming ebony tresses tumbled loose spreading out on the pallet like a dark cloud. Her eyes were closed, and her face had a peaceful almost child-like quality. But her high cheekbones, full lips, and strong jaw line were those of a woman, as were her swelling breasts that rose and fell gently as she breathed.
“A real looker. Let's see what her tits look like.” Morrison took out a switchblade and neatly slit the front of her costume from neck to crotch. The sleeping heroine let out a little moan as her costume was peeled away, almost as if she sensed what was happening to her.
“That’s it twat,” Morrison sneered. “I’ll have you making more noise than that in a very short time.”
“I’m really looking forward to this,” chimed in Hiarath. The thug was almost salivating as Lubaya’s sugar-brown skin was revealed.
She wasn’t wearing much under her costume, just a black demi-bra and panties to match. Her dark nipples and black thatch could clearly be seen beneath the diaphanous material. In a few seconds both areas were fully revealed as Morrison ripped the flimsy undergarments from her body.
“Jesus,” said one of the henchmen, what a set of honkers.” All of the men had to agree. Lubaya’s breasts were magnificent, holding their shape even without the support of the brassiere. They were perfectly shaped, rising from her chest like twin hills crowned with the dark watchtowers of her nipples. Even Stetsman, still tied to the pallet and awaiting further interrogation was distracted from his plight, his eyes widening in awe at the magnificence of the melon-sized mammary glands.
“Ooohh!” Lubaya groaned and her eyes fluttered. Her head ached. It was as if some evil imp was inside her skull pounding on her brain with tiny hammers.
“She’s waking up,” said Morrison. “Let’s see if we can speed up the process.” He grabbed Lubaya’s hair and raising her head slightly slapped her face, rocking her head back and forth.
“Ooohhh!” She opened her eyes. For a few seconds they would not focus and then they widened in fear. She was surrounded by leering thugs and the costume she had spent weeks sewing together had been ripped open leaving her half naked. The cool air of the warehouse room raised goosebumps on her skin and caused her sensitive nipples to stand erect.
“Well, ain’t you a honey?” said one of the men standing above her. As Lubaya’s head cleared she recognized him as Slash Morrison. For a few seconds she was too confused to understand what had happened to her and then understanding dawned. Someone must have come up behind her and hit her from behind. And now she was bound and helpless at the mercy of the criminals she had sought to apprehend.
Well, bound, but not helpless. Of course Morrison could not know that. He gloated over his prize. “Tables are turned now, ain’t they, honey? Me and the boys are going to have some fun with you for awhile and at the same time find out what you know about us.” He reached down and further exposed Lubaya’s sweet vulva.
“Touch me again and you die.” The words were spoken with such vehemence that Morrison actually took a step back. The heroine’s coal black eyes burned with a deadly fire that sent chills down his spine in spite of her seemingly helpless situation. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know a damned thing about her. She had boldly walked into his lair and demanded his surrender. What sort of powers did she have? What if she was more than just a martial artist like Batgirl? Then he realized how stupid he looked. He had retreated at the words of a black girl. A damned good looking black girl, but a girl nevertheless and one that was tied up to boot.
“I give the orders here, you nigger bitch,” he swore. Lunging forward he grabbed at her prominent breasts.
Lubaya reacted in rage. How dare the filthy thug tie her to a splintery wooden pallet and rip open the costume she had worked on for so many hours? How dare he call her a “nigger?” And how dare he humiliate her by placing her body on display in front of a bunch of drooling brutes? She lashed out without thinking.
The lights in the warehouse dimmed and then Morrison screamed as a bolt of electricity ripped into his chest. His clothes actually exploded off his body and he was hurled thirty feet across the warehouse. At the same time the heroine’s bonds parted as if they were made of string, burned though by an intense electrical outburst.
The thugs scattered in all directions. All except Stetsman who was somewhat limited in his movement. Flashes of lightning surged from the fingers of the freed heroine, knocking all of them off their feet. The stench of burning clothing and human flesh filled the air. The heroine leaped off the pallet, pulling her costume together. She didn’t quite succeed, the elastic fabric resisted efforts to cover her ripe young body. She turned on Stetsman, her eyes still flashing fire.
“Please don’t kill, me heroine,” Stetsman begged. “I didn’t do anything. Please don’t hurt me.”
Lubaya slowed her breathing. She had been completely out of control, infuriated by Morrison’s racist slur and her humiliating capture, but now she calmed herself.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “you’re safe from me.” She attempted to pull together the remnants of her costume, managing to get her cowl on and tying the torn material across her breasts.
“You’re not just going leave me here are you?” Stetsman gasped. “Some of Morrison’s goons might show up.”
“Why not? I have no reason to release you. In any case the police will be here soon.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind. I could get blamed for this mess.”
“You should have thought of that before you decided to taek up your life of crime.”
“You’re pretty full of yourself,” sneered Stetsman. “What do you call yourself anyway?”
“You may call me Simba,” Lubaya replied. She raised her finger and sent him into unconsciousness with a jolt of electricity.
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