To Snare a Cloud

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Masked Hero's Girlfriend In the Clutches of a Villain.
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Wifetheif
Wifetheif
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"I know you know the identity of The Nimbus, Miss Brooks. I also know that you are my conduit to him."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, Mister "Jones"". replied the beautiful brunette with a trim, enticing figure. "The Nimbus is a myth. The product of gossip of deluded underworld thugs and naive housewives." finished the woman firmly. "Now, if you will excuse me ..."

Brenda Brooks turned on her sensible heels and made a move to exit the nondescript office in the almost empty commercial building in the heart of Manhattan. She could not risk having her cover blown, she also had to find some way to subtly inform the mysterious agent of vengeance, The Nimbus, that someone was sniffing about the periphery of his existence. Only Brenda Brooks and a small cadre of operatives who made up the inner circle around The Nimbus, knew of his reality. Together, they fought against criminals, gangsters, smugglers, and other vermin operating in the Big Apple. Their methods were usually extra-legal and just as often, quite lethal for the evil doers.

The Nimbus, Brenda Brooks, and their team of associates funneled whatever cash the criminals left behind into a secret fund. Much of the wealth went to various charities in the greater New York area, the rest helped fund The Nimbus's lavish lifestyle. There were high tech gizmos created for the exclusive use of The masked vigilante and his cadre. The money also provided verisimilitude to The Nimbus's secret identity of Lamar Hazard, millionaire playboy, and investor. Brenda was his partner both in crime fighting and the bedroom. No one suspected that the boisterous, muscular, and oh so handsome playboy was in actuality the masked and caped avenger with a footprint so nebulous, not even the most astute police inspector on the force, believed in his existence. Like a cloud, he came and went almost imperceptibly, hence his moniker.

Brenda was just at the vestibule of the office when the hulking form of two powerful thugs loomed into vision in the hallway. Both men moved in her direction. Brenda Brooks sought an exit. The weapon in her purse would not be accessible fast enough for her to level it at the thugs. Realizing that she lacked the speed to escape the two men, she prepared to battle them using the many martial arts The Nimbus had taught her. She planted a satisfying kick in the groin of the first man and planted a firm punch into the solar plexus of the second man. Both went down. Unfortunately, Brenda could still not make her escape for as soon as she withdrew her fist from the second man's belly, she felt the barrel of the pistol on the back of her neck. Her original interrogator said firmly and evenly, "Our interview is not yet concluded, Miss Brooks."

Her two assailants grumbled loudly as they returned to their feet. Each produced a handgun of their own and Brenda froze in place. "Now I see that you have decided to be reasonable, Miss Brooks." stated the disembodied voice behind her.

One of the men liberated Brenda's purse from her shoulder. The other thug reached into his suit coat and produced a pair of handcuffs. The menacing voice behind the trigger, a man Brenda knew only as the obviously phony alias of "Jones, was insistent upon pressing against Brenda's neck and stated in a very oily manner,

"Now, Miss Brooks, unless you want my burly friends here to force you. I would suggest that you place your wrists behind your back so that they can be cuffed together. I assure you that you shall not be wearing the "bracelets of obedience" for anything like a long period of time."

Finding herself in an unfamiliar posture of defeat, Brenda considered her options and quickly deduced that she had none. The Nimbus had trained her to be fast, but bullets were faster. Brenda considered the fact that they no doubt wanted to take her alive, so if the men DID fire upon her it would not be to kill but to maim. Could Brenda make her escape with a bullet-torn knee or perforated arm? She decided that she could not. Letting them shoot her meant pain and limited mobility, more importantly, if one of the thug's bullets inadvertently tore through an artery, Brenda would bleed to death in moments. No, there could be only one option she realized. After a hard swallow, Brenda brought her arms together behind her back. She was cuffed immediately. All three men appreciated the fact that the manner in which she was restrained, forced Brenda's ample breasts to jut forward in a most alluring way in her clingy designer dress.

"It is apparent that The Nimbus does not employ nitwits." stated the voice behind her with a smugness that Brenda despised with every fiber of her being. The three men steered Brenda down the deserted hallway and onto a service elevator. The button for the uppermost floor was depressed and the elevator began moving. Brenda appraised her trio of abductors. The two bruisers were the easiest to categorize.

Cunning and sly but not profound thinkers. No doubt adept with a firearm and keen in a fistfight, Brenda concluded that they were probably hired muscle. Working with The Nimbus, Brenda had dealt with men like this often. They were a known danger. The one who really unnerved Brenda was the ringleader, "Jones." Slightly below average in height, he peered at the world through coke bottle glasses. His gaunt features reminded Brenda of a weasel or a ferret. Still, there was great intelligence in the man's close set and watery blue eyes. This was an adversary, Brenda realized, despite his meek exterior, who already knew a great deal about her and believed absolutely in the existence of The Nimbus. This man was supremely dangerous, thought Brenda. As the elevator rose, he smiled at Brenda with a malevolence that chilled her heart.

The elevator arrived at its designated floor. The two hulking thugs walk/dragged Brenda to the door opposite the service elevator. The ferret-like ringleader opened the door with a flourish and Brenda was compelled over the threshold. Brenda's heart fell. The room was a laboratory of some kind with a half dozen folks in lab coats. To one side a line of armed thugs. An open skylight revealed the never quite inky darkness of the 1930's Manhattan midnight. The ringleader handed Brenda's purse to one of the technicians and said, "You know what to do with this." The man nodded as he received the item. Brenda knew that she would never see that purse again.

Her chief abductor allowed Brenda a few moments to drink in her surroundings. He knew that she would conclude that escape was impossible and obedience was her only course of action. After an interval he stated,

"As you can see, Miss Brooks, I have thought of every eventuality. The only access to this room is via the skylight, through which I expect The Nimbus to arrive shortly."

He glanced at one of the thugs and stated, "I believe you can release her now, Vincent."

Her arms freed, Brenda stood a moment rubbing her wrists before the man spoke again.

"This can be very simple, Miss Brooks or it can be an ordeal. I have no doubt that, on your person, is at least one or more means of summoning The Nimbus. You can either turn that device or devices over to me or you can make us look for them. Said search will be EXTREMELY thorough!"

Brenda immediately realized the implication of her adversary's threat. The man had, in fact, discerned the truth. However, Brenda had been trained to deny the existence of The Nimbus even under threat of the most extreme torture. She also realized that even IF these men discovered her communicators, they would be unable to crack the code The Nimbus and his agents used. Lamar WOULD realize that Brenda had been captured and where she was. Brenda knew that The Nimbus would never plunge blindly into a trap, no matter how cunningly devised. Brenda understood with complete conviction that Lamar Hazard would rescue her, somehow, but not until AFTER she now realized, she had endured a very humiliating night. Brenda inhaled deeply, squared her shoulders and replied firmly, "I have already stated the truth, The Nimbus is a myth!"

"And I'm Pocahontas." returned "Jones". He sighed and continued, "All you are doing is wasting everyone's time. But sometimes logic is lost, even on the wise."

The ferret-like villain gestured at the phalanx of armed men who leveled their weapons at Brenda.

"Very well, Miss Brooks, surrender your shoes."

Brenda tried to stall for time.

"Obey, Miss Brooks or be compelled. I'm sure my men would enjoy your continued recalcitrance."

Brenda spied the leers of the armed henchmen from the corner of her eye. She assuredly did not want those brutes handling her. With a heavy sigh, Brenda bent and unfastened the buckles of her highly polished shoes. She stepped out of them, exposing lovely arched feet clad in nylon. One of the lab-coated assistants materialized to spirit the shoes away. Brenda observed with thinly veiled horror as the technicians began to disassemble them.

Her chief antagonist spoke in an almost bored tone. "What I am looking for is most probably not in your footwear. Too much chance of sudden impact setting it off accidentally or, conversely, rendering it inoperable."

Brenda received this information with a nonplussed expression.

"Still intent on extending this charade, Miss Brooks?"

Brenda returned a defiant, haughty look.

"Very well, I can prolong this at will. Not that I think they will be of any value, but surrender your nylons."

Brenda forced her lips together as she reached under calf-length skirt and reached for her garters. The henchmen could not help but notice that as Brenda's skirt rode up as she completed the task, it revealed a magnificent set of gams. Brenda felt their eyes upon her as she unrolled each stocking in turn off the legs that, The Nimbus had told her in private, men would kill to fondle. Not willing to aid in her humiliation one iota, Brenda stared at the ferret-faced "Jones" hotly and simply let the cast off hose tumble to the floor.

Her abductor rolled his eyes and said, "Aren't you a little old for displays of petulance, Miss Brooks?"

"Drop dead you creep!" shot back Brenda.

"Ah, insults, the defense of the cornered and the witless."

"I'm neither, I'm simply a career girl from Brooklyn about whom you have many misconceptions." lied Brenda.

The ringleader's response was a wan smile. A lab rat hoovered up the nylons. One lab-coated minion sporting a goatee and a clipboard stated to, "Jones", the man in charge, "Nothing in the shoes or purse, boss."

"Fine, Eric. That is not surprising." He turned his attentions on Brenda once more.

"The jewelry is too obvious, as in it would be the first place men like me would look. Still, cede your earrings, faux pearls, watch, and that brooch."

"Is it too much to hope that this is just an elaborately staged jewelry heist?" asked Brenda mockingly.

"In your dreams, Miss Brooks, in your dreams." Replied "Jones." After a pause, he finished with a harsh, "Don't make me wait."

Brenda's hands went to her left earlobe. Despite her stoic demeanor, Brenda was quite angry at the loss of the earrings and matching brooch. They had been gifts from Lamar Hazard, The Nimbus, during a romantic trip the two had taken to Cuba early in their relationship. The day was fixed in her memory. That morning, she had spied the matched set at a jewelry store. There was a wonderful day at a private beach where she and Lamar lazed in sun and made love on the strand. Brenda had not had an inkling that Lamar had noted her interest in the jewels until they arrived with the Champagne at dinner. Back in their hotel, Brenda had rewarded the erstwhile crime fighter with two rousing sessions of fellatio, swallowing each time, and her second ever foray with him into anal intercourse. After that, Lamar dined on her kitty until she purred. She was so spent from sexual exertions that evening, she fell dead away moments after he had come deep inside her pussy. Even if The Nimbus bought her identical replacements, they would not possess the same magic.

A tray, held at arm's length by one of "Jones's" minions, hovered in front of her. With an almost inaudible gasp, Brenda placed the prized mementos, the expensive watch, and the dime store pearls on it and watched as they were withdrawn from her vision.

"It would appear that these items have sentimental value. A gift from a certain anonymous vigilante, perhaps?" stated "Jones." rhetorically. "You can save them from destruction, Miss Brooks, by giving me what I seek."

"Get stuffed, you pervert!" spat Brenda

"Retain that tone, young woman, and before this evening concludes I will have my men administer a firm spanking to your posterior and also have them wash your mouth out with soap." replied "Jones" with equal vigor.

He stood for a brief moment and said, in an almost bored tone. "Your dress, if you please, Miss Brooks".

This was it. Brenda knew there would be no turning back from this point. She did, in fact, have three tiny devices on her. One was carefully sewn into the collar of her dress. One was sewn into the shoulder strap of her slip and the final one, the spare, rode next to the left garter of her panties. Judging by the scale of the operation "Jones" commanded, Brenda was under no illusions that his half dozen or so lab rats would not discover the tiny transmitters. Even if Brenda cooperated, she now realized, "Jones" would compel her to strip anyway. It was a clear case of, "Damned if you do, damned if you don't."

Despite having been something of a party girl before joining The Nimbus's team, Brenda had never been completely naked in front of any man other than Lamar Hazard. Her mother had instilled in her the firm belief that a lady only allowed the truest of gentlemen to spy them sans attire. Preferably, the man she intended to marry. It had been several years, Lamar still did not seem interested in gracing the third finger of her left hand with a ring, but Brenda knew that The Nimbus was the only man for her. He understood her strengths and limitations and never asked her for more than she was willing to or capable of providing.

Brenda had not been this close to revealing all since a case, early in her work with The Nimbus where she had to go undercover as a high-end escort and the target's bodyguard wanted Brenda to strip to prove that she wasn't packing heat or a shiv. In that case, Brenda batted her eyes at the jerk and flirted with him before she allowed him to feel her up for an excruciating period of time both on the outside and inside of her slinky, filmy dress. The creep put his hands in places reserved only for The Nimbus. When the operation concluded, Lamar was only too happy to break both of the thug's wrists and every one of his fingers in retaliation, at Brenda's request. Every disgusting moment of that distasteful operation flooded Brenda's mind as she clenched her teeth and reached for the buttons that closed the front of her dress.

The thugs appreciated the view of Brenda's expensive but tasteful blue dress opening. True, the woman wore a full slip beneath the garment but now they could appreciate her fine shoulders and long arms. Her cascading dark brown hair and angelic features made a startling contrast with the stark whiteness of her underthings. What they really enjoyed, however, was the sight of her still concealed feminine hillocks. It was clear to every male eye in the room that Brenda Brooks was nicely stacked. The dress fluttered to the floor and Brenda stepped out of it, donning her most defiant look of the evening.

The dress was retrieved and a team began removing every seam, every button, and every stitch

"The slip, Miss Brooks." stated "Jones" laconically.

"Don't you want to take the time to thoroughly examine the dress?" asked Brenda.

"I have more than one team of experts, Miss Brooks. They can perform more than one job at a time. The slip." this time there was more vehemence in "Jones's" voice.

With a heavy sigh, Brenda began hiking the slip over her head. The libidos of the gunmen reacted most favorably as Brenda Brook's amazing thighs and succulent ass came into view, followed by her flat, toned tummy. After removing it, Brenda pressed the garment close to her body for a long moment before letting it drop to the floor. Perhaps, she thought if it was just "Jones" and his team, this kind of exposure would not be so bad. But Brenda held a very low opinion of the sort of witless goons that criminals tended to rely on. Brenda knew just as sure as she breathed that men like those witnessing her unveiling now were as far beneath her as an amoeba was to Albert Einstein. These were men to be reviled and mocked by upper-class single women such as herself. And under NO circumstances should men like that ever see a woman of class in the altogether!

Brenda eyed them from the corner of her eye. No way was she going to turn and face them. She had pledged her life to The Nimbus, in large part to rid New York, the town she loved, from men such as these. Over the last few years, Brenda had helped The Nimbus eradicate much crime in the Big Apple but the thugs kept coming. For every one The Nimbus neutralized, seemingly two or three sprang up to replace them. It was like fighting the mythical hydra. Still, making the streets safe for other women such as herself and those far worse off was a noble goal. Worth fighting for even at the risk of humiliation. No matter what happened, however, The Nimbus had trained her well, she would not cry and she would show no weakness.

"Why, Miss Brooks, you are ravishing! The Nimbus is quite a lucky man."

"IF there IS any such person as The Nimbus, I am sure that he is a real man. Something, you and your pathetic goons could never be!" rejoined Brenda acidly.

"Jones broke into a wide grin. "For that comment, Miss Brooks, I will have your brassier."

Brenda stood for a long interval, meeting her captor's intense stare with one of her own

"Don't tell me that a brave woman like you is suddenly afraid? What did you just say? Oh, yes, that I could never be a man? Well if there are no men here than you have NOTHING to be ashamed of. Or perhaps you need help in removing the article I requested?"

"NO!" replied Brenda as her hand reached behind her and loosed the catch of the bra. Brenda closed her eyes and forced herself to not shed a single tear as she slid the bra off her slim shoulders and allowed it to fall away. The sight of Brenda's huge and symmetrical breasts, surmounted with enticing pink nipples, inspired audible comments from the phalanx of gunmen. For them, this unanticipated strip show was a very much appreciated bit of unpaid compensation. It occurred to these men, nearly all of whom attended burlesque shows religiously, that the woman on display before them had a better body and nicer tits than ninety percent of the women who took it off professionally. The fact that she was obviously a high-class dame and completely unwilling made her situation all the more delectable to the thugs. Some shifted in their seats as they anticipated their boss requesting her panties, as he was sure to do.

"Well, Miss Brooks." stated the grinning ringleader, "It would seem that I can only make one more request of you at present. Time to reveal ALL of your secrets."

Brenda opened her eyes and met those of "Jones" She appealed to him with a pleading look. "Jones " just smiled wider.

Brenda rolled her eyes heavenward as her thumbs settled in the waistband of her panties. After several deep breaths, the agent of The Nimbus began tugging them off. Every man in the room was sporting a stiffy as Brenda's neatly trimmed dark pubic triangle was exposed. That was, without a doubt, the tastiest looking pussy any man had ever seen. It was better than just about any strip show because, unless you paid major bucks, burlesque strippers never went quite this far. Brenda stepped out of her last vestige of modesty. One of the lab-coated minion's fetched Brenda's intimates but not before taking in a long leering look at her from knee level.

Wifetheif
Wifetheif
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