The Scarlet Dove - Issue 18

The Scarlet Dove's enhanced reflexes snapped into action! She easily ducked out of the figure's grasp. Lightening quick, she spun into an elegant roundhouse kick! Her long leg collided with the would-be-attacker, redirecting his momentum to send him crashing into the wall.

A second figure dashed into the hallway in front of her. Ready to fight, the heroine squared up to the new-comer.

"Alright, miss Chase," croaked a familiar rasp behind her. "That's enough of that!"

Starling's fists dropped dejectedly, as she turned towards the speaker. The Barrel of a 9mm pistol glinted at her in the dimly lit hallway. Behind that, a smug grin lifted the stubbly jowls of a bulldog-like face.

It's Quinlan and he knows my secret identity! She realized, panic edging her thoughts. He must be working with Maddox! Of course he is...and I walked right into their trap!

The detective's grin widened watching the alarm play across her beautiful face. "Hands up, toots!"

Gritting her teeth, the crimson haired heroine lifted her hands, knowing that even her enhanced reflexes were not faster than a speeding bullet. Quinlan's heavy-lidded eyes scanned her scantily clad figure. His gaze lingered on her breasts, devouring their curves in the skin tight spandex bustier, before slithering down her wide hips and shapely stems.

"Ditsy broad took the bait right away," groaned the figure struggling to his feet behind her.

"Stupid bitch," chuckled the third.

Glancing back at them, Starling winced to see two uniformed officers looming behind her. Their badges named them: Ramirez, a dark haired latino, and Russel the blond-haired giant she had kicked into the wall. He was already reaching out for her shoulders.

"Don't you touch me, scumbag!" the heroine spat, clenching her fists and turning to face him.

"Ah ah! Hands!" Quinlan snapped, thumbing back the hammer on his gun.

Starling froze, grudgingly raising and opening her hands once more. Russel grabbed her roughly, yanking her arms back to pinion them behind her. The heroine was easily overpowered by the crooked cop, the position forcing her to arch her back and thrust her buxom chest forward.

"Don't try anything stupid," he growled directly into her ear. "Or rather...please do..." Russel tightened his grip, making Starling gasp at the strain in her shoulders. "...please?"

I could break his hold easy enough by summoning the last bit of the power Danvers gave me, she thought disdainfully...but I'd still have to deal with Quinlan's gun, so... wait, what's that?

Ramirez had stepped in front of her, dumping the contents of a small glass bottle onto a white rag. A faintly chemical smell wafted over to sting her nostrils. The heroine recognized the scent of chloroform immediately!

"No! Keep that away from me!" Starling gasped dreadfully. "Stay back you scu-OULPH!!"

Ramirez's fist slammed into her stomach, blasting the air from her lungs! The trapped heroine coughed, sputtered and then gasped in a lungful of chloroform as the latin officer pressed the rag over her masked face. Starling recoiled in panic, but Ramirez gripped the back of her head, keeping her nose and mouth buried in the toxic cloth. Already feeling light headed, Starling struggled helplessly against her powerful captor. What strength she had drained away quickly, her arms and legs going slack in his clench. Fog seeped into her brain, making it difficult to even think, much less resist. Just as the heroine's pretty green eyes began to flutter, Ramirez pulled the rag away.

Starling swallowed a breath of fresh air, but it was not enough to pull her back from the edge of unconsciousness. Her curvaceous body was all but completely limp in the arms of the lumbering Russel.

"Good work, boys," Quinlan said, holstering his gun as he approached. "She out?"

"Um, not quite," Ramirez answered, his tone tentative.

"What? Why the hell not?" the detective barked.

"Well, Russ and I was thinkin' we might have a little fun with her before we take her to the chief."

Starling could hear every word, but it seemed far off. Her mind felt sluggish, her body seemed impossibly heavy.

"Oh you was thinkin' that?"

"C'mon Q," Russel chimed in. "You've heard the rumors..."

"What rumors?"

"Like how this little slut's been getting' fucked by every lowlife thug in the city," Ramirez spoke up.

Oh gawd, even the cops hear those rumors? She thought blearily through the chemical haze. Has it really happened that often?

"Eh, that so?" Quinlan grumbled, his eyes crawling down her buxom chest. "Must be why she wears this slutty outfit to supposedly fight crime in!"

The detective reached out, hooking one finger into the top of her bustier and pulled the garment down. Starling groaned in dismay, squirming uselessly as her breasts were exposed. Barely able to move, unable to muster any real strength, it was like being stuck in a dream, a nightmare.

"N-no...please..." Her mind seemed to have cleared enough for a wave of humiliation to roll through it.

Ramirez let out a long, low whistle as his eyes devoured her creamy globes and their petite rosy tips.

Quinlan reached for her again. Starling looked away as he began to caress her plump breast. He squeezed and stroked, the feel of his palm was like sandpaper on her soft flesh. Swallowing a disgusted moan, the heroine could not stop her body from responding to the vile touch as her nipple stood up between his groping fingers. Feeling his thumb flicking her stiff little nub, Starling's high-boned cheeks turned bright red under her feathered mask.

"Get your hands off me!" Starling managed to demand, though her weak tone was pitiable at best.

"What? You'll whore yourself to every dealer and petty thug in the city," Russel rumbled behind her. "But you're too good to put out for us hard working boys in blue?"

"I'm not a whore!" Starling whined dejectedly. She began to squirm again, feeling a bit of strength returning.

Russel felt it too. "She's coming around, Ramy."

"On it!"

Starling moaned in protest as the damp rag covered her nose and mouth once more. The fumes filled her lungs, almost instantly returning her to verge of unconsciousness. Starling felt her body go limp once more, her head lolled, her mind fogged over. The rag pulled away after only a moment, leaving the heroine hazy and helpless.

Quinlan continued groping her. "Boss wants her under lock and key before the party tomorrow night," he said. "Don't suppose it matters what we do with her tonight!"

Starling heard their laughter, knowing it meant nothing good for her. Why does this keep happening to me? She thought in bleary despair. Maybe not every lowlife in the city but...oh gawd, and now the cops too?

Russel adjusted his grip and the heroine felt something cold and metallic encircle her wrists. She was aware but unable to offer any resistance other than a bit of feeble squirming as handcuffs locked into place. The ratcheting sound sent a chill of dread through her numbed body.

Chapter Four

They passed the hapless heroine around for a bit, each taking their turn at feeling her up. Quinlan stroked and squeezed, almost like he was trying to milk her. Russel mauled her chest with big hands that made her sizeable mounds seem small. Ramirez liked to play rough, slapping her tits around enough she felt it through the haze...and was even a little glad she was mostly numb.

"...stahp..." she plead dazedly.

"Careful what you wish for," Ramirez hissed. "Your night don't go uphill from here!"

"N-not...gonna..g-get away...with thiMMPH!!" Starling's attempted defiance was rewarded with the rag. Her emerald eyes rolled back in her head as she choked on the toxic fumes.

Her hazy mind seemed to grow even more sluggish as they lowered her to kneeling. She rested almost contentedly, sitting back on her heels with her arms cuffed behind her. Her head drooped and lolled, her torso swaying likewise. Then she felt a hand coiling into her tangled crimson hair, holding her upright.

It was Quinlan, pulling her head back so she was forced to gaze up at him through glassy green eyes. He grinned down over his gut, reaching for her face with his free hand. His rough fingers, traced around her plump lips, pulling her compliant mouth open. He slid his fingers over her tongue, smiling at the way it squirmed against them instinctively.

Starling watched through fluttery eyelids as the detective unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped, then took out a long, hard cock. He pulled her forward inserting easily into her gaping mouth! The groggy heroine moaned in futile protest, as his manhood slid to the back of her throat.

Keeping hold of her hair, Quinlan began fucking her slack-jawed face. Starling could feel his manhood thrusting back and forth but couldn't do anything to stop it. Worse, her tongue and lips seemed to respond on their own, twitching and squirming around his shaft. As if her body wanted to suck his dick!

Every few strokes his cock stabbed into her throat, gagging the heroine. He would pull back then, letting her gasp a breath before thrusting back in! Starling whined miserably, feeling the heat of his member as her senses returned ever so gradually.

"Hope you boys don't mind sloppy seconds!" Quinlan rumbled.

He grabbed Starling on both sides of her head and pulled her all the way down on his throbbing member. She whimpered in surprise feeling the tension in her mouth, and then a warm gush! She was dreadfully aware as he filled her mouth with cum.

Even as the detective was pulling out, Ramirez darted forward. He clamped the rag, freshly soaked, back over her face. Quinlan's load slid down her throat even as the chloroform befuddled her once more. It was as if she became more susceptible to the chemical each time. The latino's leering face filled her blurry vision, watching with relish as her pretty green eyes glazed over. The rag pulled away once more, leaving the heroine in a stupor.

Starling swayed, barely conscious, as Ramirez freed his own cock. She watched blearily, vaguely aware of his intentions, dreadfully aware that she was utterly helpless against whatever he did to her.

He yanked her scarlet hair and his cock slid into her mouth! Just like Quinlan, the officer thrust until she gagged and let her sputter on the thick strings of cum and saliva clinging to her lips. He gave her a slap before shoving back in, resuming her face fucking.

I've never felt so helpless...Starling gazed up at Ramirez through blurred vision. I can't fight back or move, I can barely even think... She could feel the slippery mix of saliva and cum in her mouth, making it harder to breath. ...It's hopeless...

She gagged and Ramirez pulled back, splattering drool across her naked tits. Starling sucked in a breath, then whimpered as his hand whipped across her mask-covered cheek. He held the rag to her face and the heroine sank deeper into her stupor.

Ramirez thrust back into her slackened mouth, groaning in satisfaction. He savored the vacant look in her pretty green eyes. Having the hapless heroine completely at his mercy was such a turn on he came like a geyser!

Starling felt the sticky liquid fill her mouth again, half gushing down her throat. The other half oozed over her lips and down her chin. When his cock left her mouth, the drugged redhead collapsed onto her side. She lay still, mewling miserably as the remnants of the Latino's load continued dripping out of her mouth.

"Your turn, big man," Quinlan chortled.

"I don't know," Russel replied. He regarded the once proud heroine, now slumped at his feet, barely conscious and coughing mouthfuls of cum onto the floor. "You guys worked her over pretty good."

"Shit, Russ, you goin' soft on us?" Ramirez chided.

"Nah, it ain't that," the big man replied. "Watchin' you guys I just realized...well, maybe I prefer a girl conscious if she's gonna blow me...and also not already drowning in another man's cum?"

"What a prude!" Quinlan laughed.

Starling felt numb. She could hear her abusers laughing and joking with each other, taste their salty left overs in her mouth. Her body remained weak and unresponsive. The fog clouding her mind was so thick it made it difficult just to think. She knew she was in danger and that she was utterly helpless, it was like being a prisoner in her own mind.

Chapter Five

They kept her in a stupor for a while longer but did not subject her to any more sexual torment. The witless heroine had no sense of time, drifting hopelessly through her foggy mind. Eventually, Quinlan sent the two officers to retrieve the cars...it was time to move her.

The detective hauled her to her feet. "Time to find your legs, little missy," he grumbled bracing her against the wall. "I don't feel like carrying your cum-soaked ass."

It had been several minutes since her last dosing, and Starling was coming back to her senses, slowly. She was pleasantly surprised to find her legs underneath her, wobbly but supportive. She had almost begun to wonder if she'd even remember how to walk.

As he stepped back, Starling thought she saw another figure behind him. Must be Ramirez back already, not big enough to be...

The figure made a motion with its arm and Quinlan fell down.

Starling blinked, struggling to comprehend. The figure came forward, saying something and reaching out for her. Instinctively she recoiled, trying to back away and nearly toppling over. The figure caught her and her blurred vision pulled focus. He was an average looking man, with light brown hair and kind eyes.

"I said, I'm getting you out here," his voice finally cut through her haze. "Hold still while I take off your cuffs!"

Starling obeyed and a moment later her arms were free. The new-comer took her by the wrist and pulled her away from the wall.

"Can you walk?"

"Looks like it..." Starling followed him unsteadily, her knees threatening to buckle with every step. "...barely..."

He led her toward the back of the building, into one of the side rooms. A cool breeze hit her in the face, and Starling thought she had never smelled anything so sweet. The air came through an open window, which the man went straight to. Starling leaned down, sucking in as much of the cool fresh air as she could.

"I'll go first," the man said. "That way I can catch you if..." he gave her a glance. "When you fall."

"Sounds great," Starling replied dreamily. The fresh air seemed to be making her a little giddy.

He scrambled through the window, dropping the short distance to the ground then signaling her. Starling climbed through, trying her best to focus on the task. Almost immediately she lost balance and tumbled out of the window. The man caught her with a grunt, barely moving.

"Look, you're pretty unsteady and we have to hurry," he said without putting her down. "I hope you won't be offended by this."

"By wha-OH!" Before the heroine could finish her query, he slung her up over his shoulder.

He took off running down the alley, letting her curvaceous body bounce on his shoulder. Starling grunted and giggled, a little embarrassed at having to be rescued this way. Her hair swung all around her masked face and her tits bobbed against his back, alerting her that they were still hanging out of her top.

Finally, they reached the end of the alley. He rounded the corner skidding to a stop at a long gray sedan. He set her down, letting the redhead brace herself against the car.

"Get in," he said, opening the door. "I'll get you out of here."

"Not that I don't appreciate this," Starling said, blushing furiously as she tucked her breasts back into her bustier. They were still sticky and slimy with cum, making her stomach churn in humiliation. "But who are you? And why should I trust you?"

"We really don't have time," he said quickly. "And it doesn't look like you have much of a choice...please get in?"

Deciding he was probably right, Starling stumbled into the car with more effort than it probably should have taken. The man rushed around to the driver side, starting the car immediately.

She pulled the door shut and he gunned the engine. As they raced away from the building, he fumbled something out of his pocket and tossed it to her. At first, she thought it was his wallet, but when she opened it Starling found a gleaming WCPD badge.

"I'm Detective Allen Wallace," the driver said.

Starling sat up, backing away suspiciously. "Another cop?"

"Warden City PD, yes," he replied. "But please believe I'm not associated with those scumbags back there!"

"Well, Detective Wallace," she snapped. "Why don't you tell me what you were doing back there and just where you're taking me!"

"Hey, I'm the cop here, miss superhero!"

"How much did you see back there?"

"A lot more than I'd have liked," he admitted, hanging his head. "I couldn't make a move with all three of them there."

"Well since I was just raped by some of your fellow cops," she went on. "You'll have to forgive my suspicions."

"Yeah, damn them," Wallace spat. "Ok, listen...recently I've had reason to suspect that Detective Quinlan has become involved in possible corruption..."

"I'm not internal affairs, Wallace," the redhead sighed. "And my brain's still pretty mushy, let's talk plainly?"

"Fine, I think he's up to some shady shit."

"Obviously, and?"

"And so I decided to tail him and see if I was right," he went on, spinning the steering wheel and checking the rearview mirror. "Earlier tonight I saw him link up with Ramirez and Russel, they parked a few blocks away and holed up back there..."

"Waiting for me," Starling slumped back in the seat, she still felt pretty weak. "Do you know why?"

"I don't," he sighed, glancing at her. "Care to fill me in?"

"I'm sorry, Wallace, I'm still not sure I can trust you," she said. "So why don't you tell me why you're doing this and then I'll decide if I want to fill in your blanks or not."

Wallace slowed the car, pulling into a parking spot and shutting it off. "I'm doing this, because I found the note you left on Creole Creed and then ten minutes later it didn't exist."

Starling nodded grimly. "So how much do you know?"

"More than I'd like, less than I need," he replied quickly. "Mostly just suspicions, whatever's happening, there's basically no tracks. Quinlan's always been the type of cop that makes us all look bad, but for some reason he seems to answer directly to the chief, that's out of the ordinary to say the least, so he seemed like as good a place as any to start taking a closer look."

"Alright, detective," Starling said. "Quinlan's new to my investigation but just from my experiences with him today, he seems like just the kind of scumbag Chief Maddox would use for his dirty work. Why does Maddox have dirty work, you ask? Because he works for a man who calls himself Dominion. And Dominion is the driving force behind everything I've been working to stop this last year or so, and actually, extending all the way back to the murder of Mayor Jack Kane, which by the way was carried out by your chief Maddox..."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Wallace held up his hand. "That's a lot."

"Tell me about it."

"So, all crime in Warden City is being run by one man, this Dominion?"

"Obviously not ALL," Starling scoffed. "But all the major events, the power plant attack, the Hasselhoff robbery, the Ashton-Uhaul fire...those are all him...well, that last one was kinda me but because of him!"

"I see," Wallace scratched his chin. "And you're further suggesting that the chief of police has been in cahoots with this criminal mastermind going back far enough to carry out the assassination of a former mayor?"

"Maybe it does seem a little farfetched."