Bombshell - Riverside Origins Pt. 01

Before

The lights went out and a shock of fear raced through Miranda's chest. Momentarily blind, she reached instinctively for the switch, only to feel a big hand seize her wrist. The door leading back into the hallway slammed shut with a startling bang that gave her a jolt. Before she could react, another hand grabbed her shoulder, turned her around and shoved her face first against the door. Her slender body tensed against the weight of the man holding her in place.

Miranda sucked in a breath, "Warren, what are-"

"Shut up, bitch!"

Her blood ran cold. The voice hissing in her ear seemed unfamiliar, rough, an octave too deep.

Miranda's chest tightened. Her heart began to race. The man at her back pulled her silky blonde hair to one side, then pressed his lips against the nape of her neck. In the four hundred and seven days since her wedding, she'd received four hundred and seven (four hundred and eight now) identical kisses. Usually they came first thing in the morning while she was brushing her teeth or fixing her hair. As the tension eased through her body, he twisted her arm behind her back, firm but not painful. Miranda's heart did not stop racing.

"W-what do you want?" she asked, putting a tremor in her voice.

"The only thing of value in this whole fucking house!"

His free hand slid down her other arm, sending a rush through her shoulders. He twisted it behind her back as well and held both her wrists with one hand.

"All my jewelry is on the dresser," she said quickly.

His free hand was tracing back up the subtle hourglass curves of her side. It had been hot out that day, so she was only wearing a denim miniskirt with a light tank top. Everywhere he touched sent nervous tingles over her skin. She shifted, grunting softly, his grip was tight, bordering on uncomfortable and it sent a rush of excitement up her spine.

"Not quite what I meant..." He grabbed her breast, so quick and tight she jumped.

Miranda gasped as he kneaded her firm C-cup roughly. She arched into the groping as hot sparks tumbled through her chest and down her flat tummy. She shuddered violently as his hot wet tongue licked from her collarbone up to her ear.

"I came for you, bitch!" Hearing that word from his lips, lips that had always been gentle and loving to her, was like a slap in the face.

Miranda gulped, licked her lips and didn't have to fake the tremor this time. "M-my husband will be home any minute..."

"I better be quick then!" he growled.

Miranda squealed in surprise as he spun her away from the door. He pushed her towards the bed and slapped her tight round ass hard enough to send a sting through her. Miranda trotted forward as a tingle crawled between her legs. She thought about resisting, fighting back to play along, but another stinging spank scrambled her brains, and then she was being shoved down on the bed. He'd been aggressive before but never rough, and Miranda was soaking her panties as he manhandled her.

Practically panting, she looked up into Warren's face, his angular features were sternly set. His sharp jawline clenched as he tugged the straps off her narrow shoulders. His blue eyes focused on her breasts as he yanked down her shirt and bra to expose her rosy nipples, already rock hard. She could see the lust and the hunger in his gaze, and it sent a flush of white heat through her. Miranda couldn't resist reaching up to run a hand through his dark, messy hair.

He snatched her wrist and pinned it to the bed so quick she couldn't hold back a burst of nervous giggles. His other hand clamped over her mouth immediately. She saw a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Don't make me smile..." His voice was deep and husky, and it thrummed through her so intensely she almost moaned. "...You sexy little bitch."

Miranda murmured under his hand and couldn't resist licking his palm. He turned her head forcefully to one side and began devouring her neck. Waves of heat rolled over her and she writhed against his thick body. The sensation of his velvety tongue, sloppy kisses and fine teeth scraping her tender throat drove her absolutely wild. Her heart was thumping as he moved over her chest and sucked one of her sensitive nipples into his hot hungry mouth. She moaned as he tongued her pink little nub, then screeched in pain and surprise when he bit down!

She pulled away reflexively, but he pinned her in place. One hand grabbed her other breast and began to knead roughly, while he continued to nip and bite her nipple. Miranda bucked on the bed, gasping and moaning into his hand as the pain turned to scintillating ache. She grabbed his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging in as she hung on for dear life. Warren switched sides, groping her tender bitten breast, and sucking then biting the other nipple. Her head was spinning. The pleasurable pain spread over every curve, leaving her quivering with hot need. Shocked by a particularly hard bite, Miranda wrenched away from his hand and yelled-

"FUCK!"

Warren flinched, looking up at her, unable to hide the concern in his eyes. "Was that-"

"Fuck me, Warren!" Miranda begged, grabbing his cheeks and looking deep into his eyes. "Oh god oh fuck I need you inside me!"

He wrestled off his pants in a flash. She pulled up her skirt, leaving it bunched around her waist as she peeled off a sopping pair of panties. She reached for his perfect cock as Warren moved between her legs. He was rock hard already and felt so hot in her soft hands. Frantic to have him inside, Miranda coiled her long slender stems around his hips and pulled him forward. Warren was still tugging off his shirt and fell forward with a grunt. She guided him right into her soft wet cunt as he did. A moan slipped through her lips as the head slipped in.

Warren leaned up, looking down at her with an eager mix of lust and affection. Her delicate hands slid up his chest. He wasn't an athlete, but she loved the feel of his smooth, firm build. Her legs tugged anxiously on his hips and she let out a pleading, urgent whimper.

Warren held back, grinning mischievously. He leaned down to kiss her. Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck returning the kiss furiously. Deeply. Desperately. Their lips locked, their tongues thrusting together with a heat that flushed her cheeks.

Warren's cock shoved in and Miranda moaned into his mouth, arching up as lightning bolted through her body. His thick shaft glided through her pussy, familiar and tantalizing. She grabbed onto her husband, gasping a deep breath. He hugged her close and tight, and began rolling his hips, plunging deep. Warm waves of pleasure rolled through her as he pumped. Miranda leaned up, kissing his neck and sucking his earlobe just the way he liked. Warren moaned.

"Don't go easy your little bitch now," she whispered, her lips at his ear. "My husband'll be home any minute..."

Big hands pushed her back against the mattress. Warren looked down, his features twisting into a snarl. "You want it that bad you little slut?"

She blinked, started to nod but he was already grabbing her legs. He folded her in half and slammed in deep! Miranda cried out.

He leaned over her, his weight holding her in place, his hips grinding against her ass. His hard cock plunged in and out of her wet pussy. She could feel each vein and ridge hitting every raw nerve, sparking erotic fireworks all through her body. Her eyelids fluttered as pleasant numbing tingles flooded her head. A pressure began building through her hips and stomach that left her panting. Each pump came a little quicker, a little harder, building momentum as well as her orgasm.

"Oh fuck! Fuck yes! Harder, baby, please!" Her voice was a breathy moan. She looked into his eyes pleadingly. "Fuck me like a dirty little slut!"

Warren grinned and leaned back, grabbing her by the wrists for added leverage. With a grunt of exertion, he pounded her pussy!

"Oh shit!" Miranda screamed as quick hard strokes sent white heat sizzling over every curve. Her legs stretched up over his shoulders, shaking from the electricity. His steel rod plowed in so deep, her entire body rocked with every thrust. Her perky tits were bouncing in rhythm to his bucking hips, her heart hammering between them. Miranda was screaming in pleasure, racing towards orgasm.

"Shit yeah," Warren groaned, his forehead glistening with sweat. "Cum for me you little slut!"

Miranda squealed. "Say it again, baby, please!"

"Oh shit," Warren moaned, shuddering as her hot wet cunt pulsated around his plunging member. "Cum for me, baby, cum like the good little slut you are!"

Miranda obeyed. All at once the pressure burst and a wave of orgasmic energy washed over every trembling curve. Her pussy clenched tight around his rock-hard dick. Warren couldn't hold it in any longer and came too, filling her with a warm sticky flood. The sensation was like a second orgasm for Miranda, and she wiggled against him, milking every drop as her pussy gushed and convulsed around his throbbing manhood. Warren moaned and practically collapsed on top of her.

Miranda pulled him down, welcoming the weight as his body unwound. It was comforting and so warm. Her legs entwined with his and she hugged him tight. They were both breathing hard. Their panting gradually fell in sync. Her curvy body was still trembling with orgasmic aftershocks as she clung to her husband, stroking slim fingers through his damp hair.

"God, I love you," she murmured, burying her face in his neck. "I love you so fucking much."

"Love you too, bit-," he began teasingly. "-err, I mean, babe."

Miranda giggled, and slapped him playfully on the back. "Don't get used to that..."

"Don't worry," he chuckled and rolled off to her side. He crawled away to flop down on a pillow.

Feeling weak, numb and tingly in her post orgasmic haze, Miranda struggled to strip off her twisted tank top, then shimmied out of her skirt. As soon as she was naked the air chilled her sweat slicked skin. Miranda quickly crawled to her husband, snuggling against his warm chest and pulling his arms tight around her.

They laid in blissful silence for a few long moments.

"That the kind of thing you had in mind?" he asked softly.

But she was already fast asleep.

Chapter 1

(seven years later)

It was a good night for business in Riverside. The wind came out of the west, picking up a chill as it blew over the Montgomery River, sweeping away the day's heat and humidity. Cool nights like this were few and far between in the middle of a steamy Midwest summer. The johns were not letting it go to waste.

The three blocks of South Madison Ave. between 23rd and 26th were bustling. Both sides of the street were practically lined with scantily clad women, strutting, flirting and waving as the cars cruised by, most of them almost painfully slow.

Miranda watched it all from a rooftop overlooking the meat market. Whenever she came down here her mind drifted back to the years she'd spend working at the Kitty Galore club. Remembering the rush she'd gotten from being on stage, sometimes she even missed the excitement of performing. Less often did she miss being ogled and appraised by the customers, or judging her worth by the amount of bills tucked into her panties on any given night.

Sometimes a chill would inch up her spine as she wondered if she would have ended up on a street like this if it hadn't been for Warren.

Two of the working girls below hooted at a passing car, drawing Miranda's attention back to the unseasonably cool present. A long dark sedan slowed as it neared the corner of 24th street. A woman wearing a bright red miniskirt and fishnets started forward as it came to a stop, but only for a moment then it sped off when she got close. She cursed loudly, flipping the bird at the taillights. The car stopped on the next block to let in a much thicker whore.

Miranda crossed her arms and chuckled. She'd met these two, Holly and Felicia, while volunteering at the shelter, not that they would recognize her tonight.

A john approached the two women and said something to Holly, the one in the red skirt. She crossed her arms and said something to him that Miranda couldn't hear, but she could tell from the body language there was attitude behind the words. The man seemed impatient, grabbed her by the arm and started to drag Holly away from the corner. Felicia started to follow, shouting, but Holly motioned for her to stay put.

Don't like the looks of this, Miranda thought.

She lifted into the air and floated across the street.

Her outfit, a skintight, haltered leotard, was made of a material Warren had developed and called Nandex. It was composed of cutting-edge carbon nano-fibers and powered by an equally high-tech power pack in her belt. He had also figured out how to calibrate the fibers to do all sorts of things, including generating a magnetic field that allowed her to fly.

Swooping onto another rooftop, Miranda watched the man pulling Holly down an alley. There was no other traffic and no witnesses. She could only catch snippets of their conversation; the man seemed to grow more agitated, demanding a refund. After a few minutes of heated discussion, he grabbed Holly by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall.

"Enough of that!" Miranda snapped, stepping off the edge of the roof.

"Get the fuck off me!" Holly swore, shoving at the man.

He responded by rearing back and slapping the woman, knocking her to the ground.

Miranda landed gracefully right next to him. "Hey! Back off, asshole!"

"What the fuck?" he gasped, hopping back, his eyes going wide at the sight of her.

Miranda's leotard was a striking electric blue, with white and purple stripes tracing the hourglass curves of her slim figure. The bottoms hugged her hips, showing off her long legs. A pair of high heeled boots, the same shade of blue and sporting some purple details, came up to her calves. Her arms were sheathed in matching elbow length gloves, and a domino mask concealed her identity. Finally, there was a high-tech belt around her waist, it was white with a round silver buckle.

"How dare you put your hands on her!" The superheroine placed her own hands on her hips and stared the man down. "This is your one chance to beat it, before I get really angry."

"Who the fuck are you?" the man balked. He was a large man, bigger and bulkier than he'd looked from the rooftop.

"Oh snap!" Holly squeaked, looking up from the ground. "She that superchick!"

"Wait," Miranda was a little surprised. "You've heard of me?"

"Get lost bitch," the man said before Holly could reply. "Just look like another hooker to me."

"Actually, I have business with the lady," Miranda scowled behind her mask. "So, you can get lost, or I'll lose you!"

He regarded her doubtfully but her glaring green-eyes didn't waver. The man straightened and puffed out his chest a bit, then started towards her. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could the heroine lifted one hand. Her gloves were capable of generating shockwaves of magnetic force, and she unleashed one of these repulsor bursts right into the man's broad chest.

He howled in surprise, launched out into the middle of the street where he landed with a painful grunt. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at the blue clad heroine, before leaving in a hurry.

Miranda paid him no mind, kneeling to help Holly back to her feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, accepting the help.

"The fuck was that?" Felicia hollered, jogging awkwardly towards them. She was wearing a black sequined club dress and sky-high heels. "Holly, you a'ight?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she grumbled, straightening her miniskirt.

"What was that all about anyway?" Miranda asked.

"Oh, he just mad cuz he couldn't get hard last time," Holly explained.

"Who da fuck is you?" Felicia asked the blonde heroine.

"She that superchick they out here talking about!" Holly exclaimed.

"People are really talking about me?"

"Mm hmm," Felicia groaned, seeming thoroughly unimpressed. "They out here sayin' some uppity bitch runnin' round in spandex tryna be the Scarlet Bird..."

"You mean 'Dove'," Holly corrected her.

"What, ever."

"Well, I guess word gets around quick," Miranda murmured, tugging self-consciously at her skintight uniform. "Although, I'm not really trying to be anybody..."

The Scarlet Dove was a superheroine who'd famously operated in Warden City, which was a couple hours north of Riverside. She had disappeared several months earlier after exposing a corrupt chief of police and defeating the supervillain known as Dominion during a live news broadcast. Of course, Miranda also could not deny she had been more than a little inspired by the woman's heroics.

"I just want to help make Riverside a little safer."

"Mm hmm, safer for who?" Felicia asked.

"Hey, superchick," Holly interrupted. "What'chu call yourself?"

"Oh," Miranda blinked. "Um, actually I haven't really come up with..."

"I think you oughta be the Blue Bird!" the woman went on excitedly. "Or the sexy -what do you call them long neck ducks?"

"Long neck...?" Miranda stammered. "You mean swans?"

"Yeah! The Sexy Swan! Dat sounds hot."

"I'll keep those in mind," Miranda chuckled. "But ladies, really, I need your help tonight."

"You mean you ain't gon' bust us, superchick?" Felicia raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"I'm not here to bust anyone," Miranda said quickly. "Actually, I'm looking for a friend."

"Friend?" Felicia balked. "What kinda friend you got down this way?"

"I'm looking for a girl named Paisley."

The two women looked at each other, the color draining from their faces. Felicia shot her companion a pointed scowl, shaking her head nearly imperceptibly.

"We don't know no Paisley," Holly lied.

Miranda looked from one to the other and back, crossing her arms under her breasts. They'd come into the shelter with Paisley on more than one occasion. They were friendly then, and even though things could change quickly in the streets, Miranda got the feeling this was different.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "It's been a few weeks since I've heard from her and I'm worried she's in trouble."

"Ain't nothin' but trouble out here," Felicia began.

Holly was looking away now, trying and failing to hide a guilty expression.

"Look, I know you guys know her," Miranda said. "And I know you aren't snitches, but can't you tell me if she's been around? Or maybe who might have seen her last?"

"The fuck is this?" barked a deep voice from behind them.

Miranda turned to find another man storming towards them. He was short and stocky, with a bald, squarish head and thick beard. He was wearing a baggy tee shirt and jeans, with clean work boots clomping up the street.

"Ain't nuthin' Crash, we just talkin'-" Holly began.

"This that superchick they out here-" Felicia was adding.

"Shut up, hos!" the man barked, he looked at Miranda. "Who the fuck is you?"

"Me? I'm that superchick they out here talkin' about," she uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips in a no-nonsense stance. "Who are you talking to a group of ladies that way."

"Ladies?" Crash scoffed, stepping right up to her. "I just see a couple hookers..." He glanced past her at the other two. "...And that bitch, Felicia."

Miranda's eyes narrowed behind her blue mask. Thanks to her heels she was a little taller than the man, but he was easily more than twice her weight. A lone butterfly twittered around her stomach.

"Whatever our professions," Miranda said. "You should learn to treat women with a little more respect. Maybe I should teach you some."

She spoke with enough confidence Crash backed up a step, even though a smirk flashed over his face.