Echo: Dark Damsel: Betrayals 1/? (Superhero, MF FF Anal Humil)
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Subject: Echo: Dark Damsel: Betrayals 1/? (Superhero, MF FF Anal Humil)
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Note: Contains semi-consensual sex. If this turns you off, bail
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Dark Damsel II: Betrayals by Echo .net
Chapter 1
Dark Damsel laughed at the surprise on the faces of the
thieves. Well, 'faces' was inaccurate as they were wearing
ski-masks. Yet, even so, surprise was there to be seen. They
had not expected anyone to be there, and certainly not Dark
Damsel.
"So, what will it be, boys?" Dark Damsel asked. "You can
try to run; you can try to fight your way out; or you can just
bow to the inevitable."
Approaching sirens let the thieves know that the inevitable
was just what she said it would be. They were fairly trapped.
Three of the four started to tense up in preparation for a
desperate fight for their freedom, but the fourth relaxed and
laughed out loud.
"But, Dark Damsel," he said, pulling off his ski-mask and
looking surprised and hurt, "we had no idea that this part of
the museum was off-limits."
It was an interesting ploy. Dark Damsel relaxed as well.
There would be no fight here. The leader of the thieves was much
too smart. A fight would be an admission of guilt. There was
always the possibility that their lawyer could explain away the
lock-picks, the masks and other paraphernalia; explaining a
pitched battle with Dark Damsel and the forces of Law and Order
would be something else entirely.
"Yes, I'm sure the tapes from the new surveillance cameras
will bear out your story of taking the wrong hallway." Dark
Damsel grinned as the man's countenance fell for an instant
before he could catch himself.
"I'm sure you are right," he replied with a confidence he
should not be feeling. Dark Damsel's eyes narrowed slightly.
Could he have some trick up his sleeve. "In the meantime, how
about we sit down and wait for the Police--those sirens do mean
that the police are on their way here, don't they?"
As if there could be any doubt. The sirens faded and died
as the police cars surrounded the museum.
The four men sat down on the chairs which patrons used
to relax and enjoy the exhibits and the three followers copied
their leader and pulled off their ski-masks. Glances were
exchanged. The light was dim, which must have contributed to her
lack of perception, Dark Damsel thought as the long flowing hair
of one of the thieves caught the Damsel's attention and closer
scrutiny proved her to be a woman. She was slightly built,
which had contributed to the Damsel's mistake. The woman
looked quite upset and Dark Damsel had a flash of pity, but no
more than a flash. They were crooks. She watched attentively
as they sat quietly in the chairs and waited. Too late, Dark
Damsel noticed that their hands were busy. She groaned inwardly
as the Police burst into the room and turned on the lights. All
that was left of their masks was the wool thread which could have
been anything. The bastards--and bitch--had unraveled them
while Dark Damsel had stood by watching and doing nothing.
"A good job, Dark Damsel," Commissioner Delcourt told her.
Dark Damsel smiled wanly at the praise from her 'Uncle Teddy'.
Too bad she could never let him know that she was Renee Jimsen,
the daughter of his late partner. On the other hand, if he knew
he would only worry, so maybe it was best that he never know
that his quiet 'niece' was Dark Damsel.
"True, it was a pity they were able to dispose of their
masks, but a good job nonetheless. The evidence we have is
overwhelming. I don't think they'll see the light of day for
some time to come." A smile of sweet victory softened his
features as he contemplated the wheels of justice rolling over
the quartet of evil-doers.
"They've lawyered up, of course, and guess who their lawyer
turns out to be?" Delcourt ran his fingers through his still
thick, though graying, hair. "Benton Frondell."
"The Organization." Dark Damsel was surprised. The powerful
'Organization' had their criminal tendrils into practically
everything. This was known, but unprovable. They were very
clever and very powerful. They had the best of lawyers, though
they had a reputation for rarely needing them as their planning
was usually better than that which had been evinced in the museum
job. Perhaps they had had a loss of which the forces of Law
and Order knew nothing. Dark Damsel hoped so. There had been
nothing on the grapevine, but there rarely was with regards to
the Organization.
"Yes." Delcourt straightened up in his chair. "But there
is some bad news to go along with the good. There was a bank
robbery last night, too. They actually tunneled in from the
sewer system and broke into the vault. Strangely enough, most
of their efforts were concentrated on the safe-deposit boxes.
Considerable cash was left behind. The job reeks of the
Organization. Oh, and they seemed to discriminate between
boxes, too. They knew which ones they were looking for."
"A feint?" Dark Damsel wondered out loud. Could the gang
have sacrificed some of their members in order to divert police
investigators? Clues had filtered in about the museum job and
the Hub City Police Department had put major resources into
breaking the case. It had been their best chance in years at
finally doing some damage to the Organization. Everything had
been in place, yet even that would have come to naught had Dark
Damsel ignored her hunch that everything was just a little too
pat. According to the information they had, the museum robbery
should have taken place somewhat later on the following day.
Fortunately, the Commissioner had gone along with her
hunch and they had been ready. Even so, they had almost
missed out as the job had been going down while Dark Damsel
was still making her preliminary tour, before settling in to
await the break-in.
"My thoughts are running the same way, I'm afraid,"
Commissioner Delcourt admitted. "Still, we may get lucky. I
don't think the young lady you apprehended is going to enjoy a
first hand look at the Hub City Pen. She may crack and give
us the lead we've needed to finally get to the Organization."
"Perhaps." Dark Damsel wasn't so sure.
Commissioner Delcourt looked at the raven-haired bombshell
in front of him and shook his head in dismay. Such a beauty
shouldn't be spending her time fighting criminals, he thought.
One day, working alone as she did much of the time, she would
get in trouble too deep to get out of. It would be such a
waste. He thought of broaching the subject of her working more
closely with the Hub City Police Department, but rejected that
idea. Her answer today would be no different than the one
she'd given him a dozen times before. Unfortunately, it would
take a disaster to get her to see the truth of his position.
He only hoped he wouldn't be around to see it. Lost in those
thoughts he didn't notice Dark Damsel slipping towards the
exit.
"I'll be in touch." With that, Dark Damsel stepped out
the door and disappeared.
Damn, damn and double damn. She'd been careless and now
she was going to have to pay the price. Fortunately she still
had an ace up her sleeve. Well, perhaps not an ace, but a Queen.
Colleen O'Brien looked in the mirror--O'Brien wasn't her
real name, nor was she Irish at all, but it fit, so she used
it. She liked what she saw. She was a beauty, no doubt about
it. Long, medium dark red hair cascaded down over her shoulders
and brushed the tops of her shapely breasts. A good diet and
daily work-outs saw that she stayed in the best of shape. She
would never let herself go. Too much hinged on the perception
of others. Perhaps Mafia Dons could be overweight and still
impressive; it would never work with her, though. She knew
this and it was a goad which prodded her on the days when she
wanted nothing more than to forgo her morning exercise regime.
She put on a close fitting black dress which had just the
slightest touch of 'DOM' about it. Power and the perception of
Power went hand in hand. It was a lesson she had learned early
on her climb to the top of the underworld in the Hub City. It
was a lesson she'd never forget.
Power. She liked the word. Power had its privileges; she
enjoyed those privileges to the hilt. The flip side of that was
that power, rightly used, carried with it obligations. One of
those was Accountability. That was something which was stressed
in the Organization--and it had been she who had stressed it the
most.
And there it was. If she evaded her responsibility, showed
that she, as Chairman, was not accountable, then that would
filter down and the Organization would lose prestige and, above
that, the loyalty of its membership. Loyalty unto Death: It was
no trite phrase which made up the motto of the Organization. It
meant just what it said. When you joined he Organization you
joined it body and soul and for life. There was no retirement.
The Organization owned you. And you were personally responsible
to ensure that the reputation of the Organization never suffered.
In turn, the Ogranization looked after you . . . 'til death.
That was the problem with society today. No personal
accountability. Well, in the Organization there *was* personal
accountability. Your body, quite literally, was on the line from
the moment you took the oath. She had taken the oath. Her very
body would be on the line this day.
But there was Royale. Colleen smiled at the thought of her
good friend. Royale had been with her from the beginning. From
before the beginning. They had gone to school together, been
friends forever. Royale, the quiet one. Ever supportive, and
smart. Smart enough to have distanced herself, in public, from
her Chairman. Better that the rank and file--and even most of
the Board--didn't know about their connection. It was always
an advantage to have secret friends.
Early on, Royale had acted as her bodyguard and trainer.
Several inches taller than Colleen, her mere presence had often
brought a 'respectability' to the smaller woman that her own
size did not seem to warrant. Once in the Organization Colleen
had kept her in the background while she, herself, made her
own presence known through her intelligence and ruthlessness.
Royale had then ascended the ranks surely and quickly with
Colleen's hidden help. Now she was on the Board, and it was to
Royale that Colleen would hand the gavel.
Colleen took a last look in the mirror and smiled. A woman
of power looked back at her. Power both in the sureness of her
carriage, her bold gaze and power in her sexuality. Her cleavage
was an overt exclamation of the power she held. It said that she
dared to be sexual, dared to use the power of a woman in this,
the bastion of men. Pity the poor soul who tried to challenge
her on her own ground.
The man howled his pain and Colleen replaced the flogger in
its holder. He wasn't faking it. She sat down, her heart
pumping rapidly, face flushed with the excitement of it all.
This was *power*. Part of the exhilaration was due to the fact
that she knew she would soon be in his position. In fact it was
the very next order of business--the final order of business for
the day. Colleen looked around at the members of the Board.
They all avoided her gaze, but she could sense the anticipation,
see it in the way they held themselves.
The man was released with a nod and allowed to pull up his
trousers before being led from the room by the clerk. The
cameramen followed. They would be back. That was the part that
Colleen disliked the most about what was to follow: the permanent
record.
"Well, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Board. We come to the
final business of the day." Colleen's voice was low and well
modulated. She stood and stepped inside the circle. One needed
power to do such and not feel fear.
The Board sat in a large, circular, high ceilinged,
windowless room. The members sat on the periphery of the room,
looking down into the centre. On a level just below was a
walkway which was used by the Pages to bring them such documents
as might be required. Below that was the main floor. There
stood the docket, the punishment rack and the Clerk's desk. As
well as those were three Cameras, which recorded that which
needed to be recorded, standing at the ready. Punishments were
one of those events which needed recording.
Colleen strode upon the walkway, looking at the members
opposite her. It was an effective strategy. She did not need
to look up as much as she would have had she addressed those
directly above her.
"Yes, the final business of the day," she smiled grimly,
as she walked, gavel in hand. "And, as the one in the docket
this time out, another will have to become Chairman, pro tem."
There were looks of expectation and several furtively
licked their lips. It wasn't often that a member of the Board,
let alone the Chairman, was to be in the docket. And with
this chairman, it might be a great pleasure to wield the flogger
and to hear her howl.
"So, to whom shall I pass the gavel?" She looked at them
one at a time as she circled the room. "Some want it too much,
and thus do not deserve it." She smiled as her gaze went from
face to face. "Others want it not enough and likewise do not
deserve the honour." She smiled again, at the irony in the
statement. "We want leniency as little as we want the iron
fist." Her smile faded and her voice grew in power. "We are
the court of final appeal," her words rang out, "and in this
chamber there must be *Justice*."
Silence. Not a one made a single sound. Colleen felt
the exhilaration of the moment riding high within her. She
stopped in front of Karl Hoffman's seat. He looked at her,
expressionless. She began to raise the gavel, holding Royale
in her peripheral vision. Royale, too, betrayed not a whit
the surprise she must have been feeling. The gavel was supposed
to go to her. That had been the plan. Karl did not immediately
reach forward to take the gavel as Colleen knew he would not. He
was one of those who wanted it too little.
"No?" Colleen asked in surprise, then turned to Royale
who sat in the chair next to Karl. "Then you?"
Royale, with utter dignity and seeming indifference to the
power she was being handed, reached forth and accepted the gavel.
If any of the others were feeling disappointed, or upset, with
Colleen's choice, they were too wise to show it.
"Then it is done."
[Story by echo @ nym . alias . net]
Colleen walked with stately gait to the stairs and descended
the three steps to the main floor. Without pause she moved to
the docket and took her place within.
The gavel came down hard on the bench, echoing throughout
the room. Summoned by a hidden buzzer, four lower echelon members
of the Organization walked into the room. Three took their places
behind the cameras to record the verdict and punishment--the trial
itself would not be recorded for obvious reasons--the fourth
made the circuit of the walkway placing a file on the desk of
each member of the Board. That fourth then took her place behind
the desk on the main floor.
Bam! The gavel once more descended.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Board. These proceedings have
become necessary due to the lack of forethought used in carrying
out a plan which was not meant to be carried out." Royale spoke
out, her voice carrying across the room. She then laid out the
specifics of the case. Witnesses were called forth by the Clerk
and testimony was given. Royale's blond tresses were pulled back
and held by a barrette, giving those who looked her way a clear
view of her face. It was a strong, yet sensuous face, slightly
squared, yet pretty nonetheless. Just now, her blue eyes were
cold and piercing and she looked every inch a Chairman of The
Organization. As Colleen looked up at her from the docket, she
shivered involuntarily. The trial went on and Colleen's attention
returned to the evidence givers. She had no quarrel with them.
They were doing their duty.
A plan had been made to divert the attention of the Hub City
Police Department while preparations were made for an undertaking
of major importance. The diversion of Police resources was to be
caused by leaking bits of a plan for a robbery. This robbery was
never to be made. It was only a diversion. The plan had been
passed by the Board. The Chairman had taken it upon herself to
allow the diversion to go through--though 26 hours ahead of the
supposed schedule. She had timed it to run concurrent with the
actual undertaking. Her reasons? It seemed a shame to waste
the plan. As well, the items to be appropriated were to the
liking of the Chairman.
The final witness left, throwing a hesitant, somewhat
fearful glance at her Chairman. Colleen's attention, however,
was now back on Royale.
"And what was the result of this decision to go ahead?"
Royale asked. "The result," her voiced deepened in anger, as
she answered her own question "was the capture of four of our
people. Four people who should never have been placed in any
danger whatsoever. The result: Damage to our reputation; damage
to the confidence of our people in the field in us, their
Board--their trust has been violated; and finally, pain--pain in
the hearts of we who must sit in judgment on one of our own.
Yes, that and the humiliation of knowing that there are others
who are laughing at us and enjoying our little reversal of
fortune, benefiting from our lapse." Royale stopped speaking
and looked down upon Colleen. Their eyes met and held.
Colleen thought that Royale was playing it a little rough.
But Royale knew what she was doing. She always did. And it was
easy enough to see where this was leading. Pain and humiliation.
Good for you, Royale, Colleen thought. A few lashes and it will
all be over. The "humiliation" of being flogged in front of the
board and the "pain" of the flogging. Truth be told, she didn't
mind a little pain now and again. Yet she could trust Royale to
hold back just that little bit which would make all the difference
and, on her part, a little acting would make it seem to the others
that the pain she felt was considerably greater than what it was
in fact. There would be no doubters, no comeback.
"At this point, Colleen O'Brien, is there anything you
wish to say in your defense? Are there any mitigating
circumstances of which we should be aware?"
It was the standard question.
"I have nothing to add." Only a fool would try to defend
herself at this juncture. The verdict had been decided before
she had entered the docket. The only judgment left was the
appropriate sentence. Pleading for mercy would have the
opposite effect of that intended. The best thing Colleen could
do was to take whatever she had coming with all the dignity
she could muster. That was what counted: Accept responsibility
and punishment without flinching. Anything less and she would
never get her position back.
"Then you accept the sentence of this Inquiry?"
"I do." One could take a lighter sentence if one wished
demotion. Colleen did not. Now to find out what Royale had
devised for the sentence.
"Then to the rack!" Royale ordered.
The rack was a simple H-frame affair with adjustable
arms. A padded bar across the top would be set to the height
of the victims hips so she could lean over it. Then she would
grasp a pair of hand-holds stretching her out, her body parallel
to the floor. The victim's wrists could then be fastened to the
hand-holds, feet to the uprights. Crude but effective.
Colleen walked over to the bar, leaned over and grasped
the hand holds and hooked her heels behind the uprights. Royale,
as executor, held up the cuffs in front of Colleen. A small
smile played across her lips as Colleen declined the offer. She
stepped back.
"Do you wish the gag?"
"I decline," Colleen replied. It might be nice to have
something to bite down on, but it was a sign of weakness and she
dared show none. It took will power to stand and take the
punishment without trying to interfere and protect oneself.
Should she give in to the impulse to do so, the consequences
would be devastating.
Royale lifted up Colleen's dress and grinned. "I see you
came prepared," she chuckled lowly, as Colleen's bare buttocks
were exposed, "but just how prepared?"
There was something in Royale's voice which caused a small
quiver of doubt in Colleen. What *was* Royale up to? She gave
a tiny, almost imperceptible jerk as Royale's fingers found the
zipper on the back of her dress and pulled it down to her waist.
What was going on? This was no part of the plan. Royale then
drew the dress up past Colleen's hips and over her head and arms,
over the hand-holds and let it fall to the base of the rack.
Colleen was now naked.
The cameras were now on her and she could see herself in the
monitors in front of her. One camera panned across the faces
of the onlookers and a rare interest was being shown. That was
for Colleen's benefit. It would be worth the life of the
cameraman to actually place on tape the whole of the Board of
the Organization. Then all three cameras focused on the body of
the prisoner. Now the tape would begin to roll. Colleen
had to admire herself. Very nice lines. Her breasts, hanging
down, nipples turgid with the excitement of the moment, pleased
her.
"Legs apart," Royale ordered and Colleen obeyed, placing
each ankle against the outside of the H-frame support. There
were cuffs there as well, but they, too, were rarely used. Cuffed,
the prisoner could attempt to close her legs without being
successful. Uncuffed, any such attempt would bring down harsh
reprisal. Again, it was a question of will. If one didn't have
the will to maintain the position, one's position in the
Organization would not be maintained either.
"In looking at a penalty for your actions we had to look
first at what your actions had wrought. As I stated, they
were: Damage to our reputation; loss of trust in our leadership;
humiliation and pain."
Colleen shivered at what the words implied. '*We* had to
look', Royale had said. There was more going on here than the
understanding between the two women.
"You, Colleen O'Brien, have a certain reputation within
the Organization." Royale was now in front of Colleen. She
reached out and held Colleen's chin in her hand, raising her
face until their eyes met. Looking deeply into Colleen's
gray-green eyes she smiled. "You have a reputation of using men
to your own joy if not theirs. You are always in control. You
control the speed, the depth, the time. Your pleasure comes first
and woe be to any who defy you. Well, when word of this gets
out, as it will, your reputation for always having it your way
will be damaged." She looked up over Colleen's head to the Clerk
and nodded.
Colleen heard the door behind them close, but couldn't see
the monitors to find out who had come in. Her gaze was trapped
by that of Royale's. Royale smiled at her, but there was no
warmth in the smile. Was she acting or had Colleen seriously
misjudged her? Royale looked up again.
"Quincy."
Quincy? Quincy was one of the middle echelon men who had
been attracted to, but been put off by, Colleen. She had made no
bones about his worth to her as a man.
"Madam Chairman?"
It was Quincy's voice, all right.
"You know what this is, Quincy?"
"Yes, Madam Chairman."
"Then you know that there will be--can be--no reprisals.
Enjoy yourself." Royale stepped away as she spoke. Colleen was
now at the mercy of Quincy.
Royale looked on as Quincy made a show of walking around
the displayed woman, inspecting her. He was doing just as she had
ordered. Colleen was in for something of a surprise, Royale
chuckled to herself. She had been waiting for this day for a
long time, ever since they had taken over the Norse gang. Now
she was going to enjoy herself, just as she had ordered Quincy
to do. It was all in the bag. Nothing could stop it--except
a sudden change of plea by Colleen, and that one was too proud
for that. Royale smiled again.
Quincy circled Colleen once, taking in her nakedness. There
was a malicious grin on his face. He stopped in front of her and
moved forward between her outstretched arms. Her face was at
his groin. He fumbled at his fly, then brought out his semi-hard
cock.
"Open wide," he ordered. "Better lube it up good, 'cause
I'm going to do you."
Colleen obeyed and took him in her mouth, quickly coating him
with saliva. Who knew how long he'd allow her this, so she acted
accordingly. She was busy concentrating on her task and almost
missed Royale's words in her ear. Almost.
"Get him off like this and he'll be done," she whispered.
"He only gets the one cum." Royale's hands were busy in Colleen's
hair, drawing it back and capturing it in a barrette. All the
better for the cameras to catch her work.
Clever, clever Royale. Very clever Royale. It appeared
that she was punishing Colleen, but they both well knew that
in her rise to power Colleen had blown any number of men--and a
few women. A public blowjob was a little humiliating, yes, but
nothing that wouldn't pass with time. Hell, even a little
late morning fuck wouldn't be that bad. Royale knew what she was
doing and Colleen felt a momentary twinge of conscience for
having earlier doubted her. And, though rumours of what happened
in the punishment circle always spread, the law that nothing
left the room guaranteed that little would be believed, true or
not.
'He gets only one cum', the words hung in her ears. Best to
get it over with quickly. Colleen went to work with a vengeance,
licking and sucking. Her tongue flicked over Quincy's glans,
molded itself to his shaft as she took him deep in her throat,
pressed hard as she bobbed her head up, lips forming a tight,
exciting seal about him, then flicked again. It had been a long
time since she'd performed like this, but she hadn't forgotten.
She made the little noises that she knew excited men, the moans
and hums. And it was working. He was growing harder and his
breath was coming in gasps. He was at the edge. Just a few
more strokes and . . . . Damn.
Quincy pulled back and out of her reach. "Damn, you're
good," he told her admiringly. "You suck like a real pro. You
almost finished me there." But there was no way he was about
to let that happen. Finally he had the bitch right where he
wanted her. He stood back and watched the little signs of a
quickly covered dismay float across the bitch's features. No,
he would have his fun.
He went around to her side and fondled her breasts, pulling
on her already erect nipples. A hot bitch. A hot bitch, but
one who wouldn't want what he was going to give her--not here
in public. He spoke again, recalling his orders. "I hope you
fuck as well as you suck," he laughed as he stroked her neck
and ran his fingers down her back to her ass.
Colleen flushed a bit as she realized that those words
would be caught on the tape of the event. Quincy was purposely
trying to embarrass her to the maximum, secure in his knowledge
that there could be no comeback. But there were more ways
than one for the Chairman to get around that little stricture,
Colleen thought grimly.
End of Chapter 1 Dark Damsel: Betrayals By .net
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