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Author Topic: The Stunner (Cyber Criminal)  (Read 113 times)
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Freakishly Strange

Fame 33
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Posts: 1,649

^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« on: July 19, 2018, 02:56:19 PM »

This is a work of fiction, but more specifically, Reverse Profiling.  The crimes described here are extrapolated from the profiles, instead of looking at the evidence, and trying to deduce something about the perpetrators.  I use it as a literary technique for character generation, among other things.  You have to be 18 to legally read sex stories, but I would argue that there's never a good time to expose yourself to worse.


Bad Man  (gM Origin)

"Hihihn!"  He is a bad man!  I can tell, because he looked at my butt.  So, I bent over, and shaked it at him.  "Ihihihn!"  Jumped up, and got away, before he could grab it.  "No, no!"  I shook my finger at him.  "You can look, but don't touch!"

"Okay," he looked around, "Little GRLH!"  he grabbed at me, but I ran around. 

Laughing really really hard now, but I got to slap his butt before he could turn around.  "Bad man!" 

"Not so loud?"

"WHY?"  Even louder, "You scared of somebody hearing?  Help, help me, the bad man wants to get me!"  Not so loud, but it's like tag, only sexy!  "Sexy sexy butt tag!"  Stick out my tongue, "NMH!  Can't catch me, tehehen!"

"All, huh.  Right, huh!"  He's panting like a dog!

"Huh huh huhl!"  Grinning, "Arf arf!"

"What do you want from me?"

"Let me see it."

"Huh!"  he rolled his eyes.  "What would you like to see?"

He grinned, just playing along, but he stuck his hips out, so I pointed.  "That, get it out, Now!"

"Okay, heh heh heh.  I got what you want to see right here.  You like it?"  It didn't even flop out, it stood straight up!

"Yeah, now do it."  I pumped my fist, "Yeah yeah.  Pull it, not so fast!  I can't see."

He slowed down.  "Huh!  Well, I can't see your privates, so it's only fair.  If I show you, you show me, right?"

"Bend over, and show me your butt."

"Oh, okay."  he didn't stop, but while he's bent over like that, he can't turn around and get me.  So, I backed away, and pulled my skirt up.  Showed him my panties again.  "Oh!"  He groaned, and looked under his legs like that, but I pulled them out, and shimmied them down.  My skirt flopped down between my arms so he couldn't see, but I know how to play these games.  I wish I could play them all the time, but he followed me down here.  I could tell by the way he looked at me.  He was a bad man, and he wanted to get me, and sex me, but no.  He just gets to watch me bending over, and teasing him.  Shaking my booty so my skirt swings this way and that, but I can see right up there, and pull the pleats so they swing higher, and higher.

"Stop it!"

"Uhn!"  He held onto his hanging stiffy, but stopped pulling it.  "Get down on your knees, like a dog.  And bark!"

"Woof woof!"

"Bad dog!"

"Ah hahahah!"  Now we're having fun, and he shaked his butt, just like I showed him.  "Bad bad bad bad.  BAD DOGgy!"  Back and forth, then I slapped them both, then both of them together. 

"Hah hah hahl!"  He panted, and licked his lips.

I saw a doggy dick one time.  There was this girl dog, and she was howling, and he sniffed her butt, and licked it under her tail.  So, I bent over. 

"Sniff it, lick, my buhN!?"  I Jumped.



"Hahl hahl hahl!"

"Ooh, nhm, hn?"  I shook my head, "That's not my butt."


"Ihihihn!  Yeahyeahyeah, ahn, nuh gee gigiginhnhn!"  He was really licking fast!  "Uhn!"  I fell down, and tried to crawl away.  "NauhnNnNnH!"  My legs were shaking too hard, and my knee got in the way so I fell over.  "Ahn, han!  Wh, no.  Ngh, stop, don!  Grlh!" 

I was drooling, but then he touched me.  My butt, and my privates, and his finger slipped, and then his dingle was right there in my face.  I screwed up, big time.  It felt so good, I let him catch me, and now he's got his finger in me!  "Auwh!  Holgoolwgh!"

"Yehn suckfguh!  Auhn!  AAAHHH!"

"Spl sptphft!"  I wiped my face, but it's all over my face, and in my mouth, and now it's on my hands, "Hugk guhk!"  I'm gagging, and that just makes me pinch tight on his finger, and he wiggled it deeper, and deeper.  I wanna barf, but I can't, I just get this "Ugk!  Hugk!"  I just kept trying to barf, even after he stopped, and then he was gone.  He just left me there, crying, and all covered in snot.  Hiccupping, and crying, I messed it up so much. 

How could I be so stupid?  I knew what he wanted, and what he'd do if I let him catch me, but no.  I just had to tease him, and dare him, and take it too far until he tricked me.  Let me get close, and then he tore me open inside, so now I'm bleeding.  "What'migonna telmom?  Mommy, mahahahameee!  I'm sorry, I'll never dowid agn, wuh uh uhuhn!"


Stunner  (G Solo Evolution)

I begged my daddy to get it for me, and I even zapped myself!  It really hurt, and I fell down.  Even through my clothes, I didn't like it, but it sure worked.  I couldn't do anything for a long long time except think about what I'm going to do with it.

I told him it was for boys following me, but that's not true.  They don't try to get me, in spite of all the stories I read.  I knew he was scared of it, because he told the worst ones of all.  In the bathroom at the Walmart, one man cut off all of one girl's hair, so she would look like a boy.

Another girl got snatched on her way home from school, and then they found her naked.  Strangled, and thrown out in a dumpster like a piece of trash.  Raped over, and over again, with cigarette burns, and ligature marks.  That's the marks the chains made on her arms and legs.  Crisscrossed over her body, and around her neck when he strangled her, but those were different. 

Paler, because he did those last, and her blood wasn't pumping any more.  She was dead, so he was done with her, and just threw the body away.  They covered up the pictures too, so you can't see her face, or her private parts.  Her breasts, so she wasn't a little little girl.  I couldn't tell how old with the black box over her face, but he told me she was a fully grown woman.

It's not just little girls, he has to protect me as a child, but even when I grow up, I have to protect myself, and now I'm starting to.  A little, up front.  I can't really call them boobs yet, because they don't boob, and I got my period too.  That was the best, because it made my gash wet, and slippery like a wound.  Gritty, and chunky too, but that reminded me of that girl that was just stabbed in her kitchen.

He didn't kidnap her, or even strip her clothes off, but of course the knife cut them up pretty good.  She had an apron on, and he cut her face a lot too.  So, they didn't have to add any black boxes at all, and I could see everything.  Even the knife where he dropped it, and the fluid he left on her pantleg.  It was still fresh, because a neighbor heard her screaming and called the police before it dried up.

Semen, still white, and shiny.  Bubbly, since it's thick, and beaded up in shiny white bubbles, with dark spots under them where they soaked into the pink leggings.  Also, all the blood, there was a lot of it, he did stab her 14 times, and then got an orgasm from it.  When she was already dead, he didn't even rape her, because he was a Picarist.  That's like a Frotteurist, only instead of rubbing their bodies on him, he gets off on stabbing them.

He guessed it was phallic displacement for impotence.  He didn't get to talk to him, or the doctor much, he's just a photographer, but then he told me they were married.  The man and the woman, he killed her, and not himself, which means he didn't feel no remorse.  He just did it, and then had a orgasm, but you could tell it was after she was dead.  There was such a fight, broken dishes everywhere, and the chair knocked over.  The perfect semen stains would've been messed up if she was still struggling, and fighting for her life, but I can move now.

I don't have to fight.  Just as long as I keep this stunner charged up, it's just ZAP!  Then the fight is over, but I don't have to try that again.  Too bad he's not a full blown police man, or he'd have handcuffs to arrest people with.  "Hihihn!"  It would be pretty silly to put them on a dead body, and tell her "You're under arrest.  Watch your head."  It's too late, she's already dead.  "Hiehahuhn!"

He's got cable ties, and tape though.  I don't know, the cable-ties leave marks, but the tape leaves sticky behind.  Evidence, I better try both.  If he's got long sleeves, or tough pants on, will that leave marks from the cable-ties?  "Nhm hn!"  I tried struggling real hard, and even fighting for my life.  As hard as I can pull them with my heels together, and even pushing my knees it won't break, of course.

"Ow."  I felt my tummy.  Where I hit myself with the stunner, and now that's starting to sting.  Even through my clothes, they're not burnt, but really sting like pinches, and tingle around them now too. "Hm," must be the nerve endings, but if I stop feeling them, the tingling stops.

"Well," my boots protected my ankles pretty good, so better get the clippers, and cut the cable tie off.  Then take off my boots, and try it again with the pantlegs of just my jeans.  "Nhm hn!"  Do the struggling thing, and push my knees apart with my heels together, until it does start cutting into my ankles, but I can just imagine.

Him looking down, in a mask so I don't recognize Him.  Holding my mouth so I can scream, and jamming His hand down my pants roughly.  "Mhn hn!"  The man at the Assembly, with the police men.  He said you can't trust anybody.  It's not just strangers you have to look out for, it could be someone you know.  Somebody you're supposed to trust, like a teacher, or a preacher, or even somebody in your own family.

Like that man that stabbed his wife, 14 times.  The picarist, but when she found out what he was doing, maybe the little prickers he was using.  To poke women's butts on the busses, or maybe he wrote about it, but I'm not that stupid.  She trusted him, and then when she confronted him in the kitchen, he grabbed a knife, and KCH! KCH! KCH!

So much passion in that act.  So much betrayal, and secrets revealed.  She might have thought she knew him, and then she found something she didn't like.  Was it the fact that he did it to other women, complete strangers, or that he hurt them?  He didn't kill them, it was over so fast, he must have run off to beat off quick before the excitement wore off, but nothing like this.


The knife wet with blood now, and casting off spray to splatter the door to the cabinets, leaving lines like an airbrush.  Like an artist, painting in blood, and the knife is his paintbrush.  Dipping it into her like the nib of the fountain pen to flick another dotted line, then hit an artery.  The thick bloody gushes in time with her heart beating out of control, and the 1 lucky cabinet door where they crossed.

"Hn, snh!  HhHhHhHhH!"

Then slowly the pressure dies down, her heart beating out of control, but running out of blood to pump as far.  Passing out, but still leaking, and spreading in a pool to grow a dark skin of gore on top by the time the police show up.  He was gone, leaving bloody footprints, his whole hand wrapped around the knife, but of course, it was his knife.  Driving off to leave the driveway empty, and the neighborhood quiet until the sounds of sirens pierced the night, and got louder.  Closer until you could see the lights flash down the street.

"Huhhhhn!  Whew!"  Better cut the cable tie off, and see if it left any permanent marks.  That seems about perfect, but the seams on the side, and some wrinkles where the denim bunched up dug in.  Rub the compressed tissue to get some blood flowing back in, and see if they heal.

Of course they did, I'm still alive.



I'm going to just leave it at the lies, misdirections, and psychological clues.  For the reader, and incidental characters to pick up on, then try to put together into some cohesive picture.

Feedback is always welcome.
Freakishly Strange

Fame 33
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Posts: 1,649

^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« Reply #1 on: July 19, 2018, 03:28:09 PM »


Note, in this case, the character code (G) signifies under-development.  It could be an organic cause, like starting early development, then puberty ending with minimal growth (Like Tina Fey, for example)  Or, it could be hormone suppression, for instance the competition diet of a gymnast, or ballerina.  I mention it here, because this is another causality that's not detailed explicitely in the main body of the story.



She knew what she was doing, going out dressed like that.  Well, other than the fanny pack, that looks 90s as fuck, but other than that.  One of those tiny teenies, wearing extra tight clothes to show off what little she's got.

Cute, though.  Cuter then the last one, and somebody really should tell her about going off alone.  Doesn't she have any friends to go with her?  Maybe she snuck out to go meet them, but I better hurry to teach her a lesson.  

Practically skipping in that jeans skirt.  Mini-skirt, if it were a pair of shorts, you'd call them daisy dukes, but she's not old enough to get the reference.  What's with the corn-rows, anyway?  They look silly on a white girl, if a black guy, or girl saw her like that, they'd probably have something to say about it, but it's a cool summer night.  She out alone, and her pale thighs shine even in the relative shadows between street lights.

She stopped, and then there was a flash, lighting up her pretty face.  Oh, she snuck out to smoke.  Somebody should tell her it's bad for her, but leaned back on the fence like that, she really should watch her back.  Anybody could just cut around it, and come in down low.  In the shadow, my black trench coat blending into it, and a dry stick visible in the cracks between the slats.

Stepping over it, instead of the snap under my boot, I can hear the zipper on her fanny pack.  Yeah, I'll pack your fanny all right, I've got the rubber right here, and looking up from the shadow of her legs crossing the pale light shining through the slats.  All those years of playing Flashlight tag payed off.

"Uh, MNH!"  She relaxed, didn't even kick and scream when I pulled her over the fence, she must have been waiting for her boyfriend.

"Slut!"  Her eyes saw mine, and didn't recognize them.  Nor my voice, she just looked at me, and took a deep breath.



Now I'm on the ground, but it lurched, and toppled over me.  I can see the grass, and even smell it, but feel nothing but the pain twisting around in my arms and legs.  "Uh!"

I grunted, and heard a weird VIP!  Sound.  Like plastic sliding over, I don't know.  Something behind me, and now I'm shaking.

"Hihihn!  Is that what you have to tell yourself?  I'm a slut, so I deserve it?"

The world flipped over again,a down she looked down at me.  "Huh!"  Smiled, and her eyes got closer.  Looked up to the side, and she shook her head.  "Is there something wrong with your face, or are you afraid I'll recognize you?"  She pulled the corner up off my chin, and shrugged.


"Doesn't really matter, I guess."  Stuffing the bandana in my mouth, "Huh, I know what you are, and that's all I care about.

Looking down, she sits back, and pulls the fanny pack up.  Feeling around for something, she pulls it out with that same VIP!  Sound.

"Hold still."  A tie wrap, she slipped it under my hood, and wrapped it around before threading the end through the buckle, and tightening it over my mouth.


"Good, you're coming around."  She pulled open the front of my trench coat, and my hands stopped tingling with pins and needles.  Now, they're starting to hurt, crushed under my back, and I can feel what I'd have to guess was the first tie wrap she pulled out

"Too late."  She held up a bright plastic box with black buttons, and stripes.  TK TK TK TK TK!

Lit up her grinning face with an electric arc.  "NWH!  NGHZVH!"

I turned my head, and squeezed my eyes, bracing myself for another cruel shock that never happened.

"I won't need this any more."  Instead, she unzipped my hoody, and felt my shirt inside.  "Ooh, your nice and warm.  Can you feel this?"

"MRH!"  She pinched my nipples, and twisted them hard through the dry rough cotton of my teeshirt.  She didn't just bring a stun gun, she somehow slipped the tye wraps into the belt of that fanny pack.  Look, I'm a child molester, I know what that means.

She prepared for it.  This, for me.  She got dressed up, and even cut slits in the belt of that fanny pack for the tye wraps to tye me up when she had me right where she wants me.



And she brought a knife.

"Hold still, I don't want to cut you."



Also, at this (Victim Rehearsal) stage of her evolution, she fantasized what the Stalker might be thinking.  As a defense mechanism, to cover subconscious fears that she's becoming the monster.  "Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process they do not become the monster."  ~F. Nietzsche.


Stunner (Face/Heel Turn)

"Huh!"  If only it were that easy.  I'd start with his shirt of course, but the problem is guys like Kyle are a dime a dozen, and he knows me.  I should probably add some sort of mask to my kit, but honestly the best disguise is a complete stranger.  

But what if somebody catches me at it?  Well, that's not going to happen without a real live badguy to lure, incapacitate, and punish!  Kyle's just a low level misogynist, and yeah he deserves it, but where's the challenge there?  He's a douche, if he had any real balls, maybe he could become something more, than that slut's boyfriend.  

I think she's really into it.  The way he treats other girls, but not her.  I bet it makes her feel special, but dad's already proved how hopeless the dream of becoming a crime writer really is.  "Oh, I'll just write a novel!"  Just like that, and become rich, famous, and respected.

I even bought into it, god I was so Naive.  I even bragged about him being a big time crime scene photographer, instead of just the DMV.  At least he gets work, when if he was a CSP, he'd be out of work.  Nothing happens around here, except for maybe the occasional drug deal gone bad downtown.

Just like my stupid silly daydreams of being a crimefighter, but at least that's original?  I don't know, maybe the world isn't ready for stories about a young woman, that doesn't look like a movie star, or a model.  Heck, they're not even ready for a pop singer that doesn't look super sexy, but I'm going to have to come up with something better than a stun-gun.  

I mean it works, but it's boring to write about.  ZAP!  Fight over.  I'm not built for fighting, neither.  Honestly, I haven't grown a whole lot since I was 13, all my clothes still fit, and I still get pulled over by cops asking to see my "Learner's Permit."  

"God!  I'm 17, see?"  Nobody takes you seriously when you still look like a middle-school girl, and just my luck, I happen to live in the safest suburb for young girls.  If you're lucky, you just might get your ass slapped by a teenager, and that's about it.  

"Will you step out of the car?"

"Uh, It's not a fake ID.  Go ahead, and check it, it's my car, it's insured, I had my seatbelt on, and I wasn't speeding.  Are you just looking for an excuse to charge me with resisting arrest?  Looking young is not a crime, maam."

"Just have a seat."  At least she let me in shotgun.  Well, it's bolted down, to the metal wall behind the seats, and the cage up above that I can check out while she goes around the front.  

Pulls out her knight stick, and slides it through the crisscross bars.  "It's not a school night, and I'm not under any curfew."

"Well, let me just run your license, and you'll be free to go."

She sat down, and shifted the other holster on her thigh.  To close the door, but she's right handed.  Her regular pistol is right there, and her backup is Tazer Yellow.  Typing it in the mini-laptop mounted to the dashboard.  

[NEC Moblepro]

"Huh, is that a Tazer?"

"Just be a minute."  She nodded.

"The cool one with the wires!  How long do they extend out?"

"Five Yards?"

"Huh!"  I need to get me one of those.

"Oh," She shifted in her seat to reach back, and unsnap her handcuffs.  "Vivian Cowley, or whatever your name is.  You're under arrest for falsifying documN!"



"You really should have searched me first."  Careful not to touch anything when I got in, I held the stungun between my knees, and pulled a pair of gloves out of my pouch.  "I'll take these, too."  

The handcuffs, I don't have a key for them, but oh look.  There's one right there in the dashboard, and I have to put my elbow across her lap to reach the thigh holster.  RIP!

"Ooh, Velcro, huh?"  Tuck that in the pocket of my hoody, and pull the handle on the side.  Kick the door, and back out.


"You have the right to remain silent..."  Giggle, backing up, and looking around for the corner.  Feeling it with my arm, and keeping my eye on her, then turning to run!

"Huh!  Huh!  Huh!"

What a rush!  The car was stolen anyway, but I guess the owners didn't report it gone yet.  Left it at the garage, with the keys so the mechanics can drive it around, right there in the office!  She probably should have run the plates first, but it's a pain to get the ring split.  To take off the key for these cuffs with these stupid gloves on.

"Huh!"  Kachink!  Better get lost quick, but at least I know the neighborhood.  I should, what with all the patrols I been on looking for trouble, but I make it to the drainage.  It's like tunnels, they go all over, and a good secret system if you know what you're doing, but I feel around the bend before I get my penlight out of my utility belt.

"I'm a criminal now."  It's official, but oh well.  Not like there was much crime to fight around here anyhow.  "We'll see about that.  Nihehahuh!"

I need to work on that laugh, though.  Nobody's scared of a giggle.


Romeo (Mf Frot)

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Trying to get to class?"

"You goth?"

"No, why?"  She shook her head, "Just because of my backpack?"  She shook her head.

"You like Raven?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "She's powerful, and black matches everything.  That's why I don't wear all black, or dye my hair black.  Like a Goth, it's just a backpack."

"All right, all right.  I get it.  So, you going to school here?"

"Yeah, I'm not just here to visit my boyfriend, I'm not taking my GED, I'm taking summer classes."

"Electronics?"  I guessed.

"Yeah, that's what I was doing in the Electronics lab, detective.  You with campus security, or just harass girls that look too young to be here?"

"Well, you don't look that young."

"Yeah, I do.  That doesn't answer my question, so should I call security, and ask them if they know about you, or.  Where you going?"

"I have to get to class."

"Uh huh?  Your class this way?"

"Why are you following me?"

"Why you running?  You're not scared of a little girl, are you?  Or is it because I threatened to call security?  I'm sorry, I'm not going to call them.  I was just kidding around, wait up."

I stopped.  "Why, should I?'

"Because you are, kinda cute."  She smiled up at me.  Arms behind her back for some reason.  "You want to go somewhere, blow off class, maybe.  Fool around a little?"

"Really?"  I knew she was a little slut.  Just the way she dresses like a slut, with that compact little spinner body, and those cute little A-cups stretching out her tight top.

"Yeah, come on."  She just turned, and walked off, but I followed her backpack before.  Even disappearing in, and out of crowds walking by, she's not hard to spot.  She's not trying to be hard to see, she stands out.  She's just short, and petite, and dresses like a middleschool girl, but you don't have to talk to her very long to find out that she's not.  She knows exactly what she's doing, walking around dressed like that.  She wants it, it makes her feel sexy, and I just bet all the other girls get a lot more attention.

Without that getup, there's a special kind of guy that likes a girl that looks like this.

I don't know what he's thinking, or feeling.  I can guess, and with the barely concealed lust, I have to stop.  "Check my watch," but hold the backpack steady so the wireless camera doesn't shake around.  

"Huh!"  He's looking around until he spots me, but I need a more stable mounting that isn't obviously a camera on the back of my head.  

"Almost lost you there."  I kept walking, releasing the Screen button on the side of my smart-watch, so it switched back to the analog display saver.  Just a clock face, animated gears and stuff, from a Steampunk skin, but other than that, just a watch.  I have to squeeze the button to unlock the screen, so it doesn't do stuff at random bumping into things, but the rest is all untested prototypes.

"Here we are."  Unlock my car.  

"This your car?"

"Huh!"  Not even going to bother with the sarcastic quip, "Yeah, get in."

Boring conversation anyway, but he doesn't hit his head sitting down, and I just have to look around real quick to see nobody's going to walk up, and see us through the windshield for a minute.

"Nice cackgkgkgk!"


"Huh!"  I didn't want him to talk.  "You talk too much."  Already had the clear plastic tape, so it won't look like he's tied up in the passenger seat, if nobody really looks.  Handcuffs, pull my jacket out to drop on his lap, and tuck in under his hands.


The handheld charged back up, as soon as I stuck it on the plate wired into the dashboard.  The last pip in the charge meter lit up, but I just left it there.

"Don't try anything funny.  Don't signal anyone, or try to escape unless you want to get zapped again.  Got it?  You can blink your eyes, once for yes, twice for no.  You understand?"

He blinked.

"Good, now let's go."  I backed out, carefully, and resisted the urge to speed.  "Huh!  You guys, 'predators' so intent on your prey, you never even get a whiff a trap, just as soon as you think you smell pussy."  Shake my head, "Well, it's a long drive, so I might as well get the urge to monologue out of my system.  Hihehahuh!"  Still need to work on that.  "Huh!  You have any idea how long I've been watching, and waiting, looking for a guy like you?  6 years, you believe that?  It took 6 fucking years for someone to finally fall into my trap, but.  I suppose that's good, and bad.  Huh!  I'm just glad I've finally got a victim, a real live victim to experiment on!  You have any victims?"

"Mh hm!"

"Oh good, you're starting to come out of it.  Huh!  You don't know what you're missing, but I bet you felt that.  This rush of excitement, when you thought I was a victim, and you'd finally get me alone to force your perverted lusts on my young little body, huh?"


"Hihnehahuh!"  That's a little better.  "Don't lie.  Come on, man.  You weren't offering me a cup of coffee, or dinner, and a movie.  You never noticed me before I showed up dressed up like a middleschool girl, in college.  Did you?  No, of course not.  I got in under your radar, until it was time to show myself, but you haven't seen me yet.  Not the real me, and you're in luck.  Nobody has, and you'll be the first.  The first to see what I have become, and it will be Glorious!"

Shake my head.  "Huh!  Listen to me.  What?  It's exciting, okay?  I told you, I've been planning this for 6 long years, and I finally have someone to talk to.  So, forgive me for monologing, okay?  I'm still pretty new at this."
« Last Edit: July 19, 2018, 04:53:29 PM by psiberzerker » Logged

Feedback is always welcome.
Freakishly Strange

Fame 33
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Posts: 1,649

^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« Reply #2 on: July 19, 2018, 03:45:42 PM »

[Unknown Caller] 

"Hello?"  I answered my phone, even though the number was blocked. 

"Jason Gagnon?"

"Who're you?"

"My name is Detective Ernst."  Well, that answers what this is about.

"You work with the FBI, Police, State?"

"No, not yet.  I'm just a private detective, but I have a personal connection with this case."

"Oh yeah?  What?"

"Well, it's a long story, but I saw the story on the news, and recognized the girl that kidnapped you?  Huh, well.  In the interest of building trust, I suppose I should tell you that she attacked me too.  She robbed me, I pulled her over, and underestimated her.  I let down my guard, and assumed it was just a routine stop.  She looked suspicious, but I didn't have anything concrete to suspect, other than driving without a license, and having a forged ID.  It turns out the car was stolen as well, but from what I read in the news, it seems that she's escalating?'

"You out for revenge?"

"Huh!  I don't know.  I don't consider myself a vigilante, but what keeps me up at night is all the questions.  Who is she, how did she learn all these criminal techniques?  I suspect she might be trained, obviously from a young age, but."

"Don't let her looks fool you."

"Of course not.  I'm not going to make that same mistake twice, but the articles said she's calling herself the Stunner, and she put on a supersuit?"

"Yeah, and she monologued, about monologing like Syndrome from the Incredibles?  Yeah, she's insane, she calls herself a supervillianess, and she's an electrical engineer.  That fetish suit she put on isn't just for looks, even though there's pretty obviously something sexual about it."

"Oh?  How so?"

"Well, for one thing, she accused me of being a sexual predator, and stalking her.  Which couldn't be farther from the truth, she came right up to me, and tried to seduce me.  Then when that didn't work, she knocked me out with a stungun, and when I woke up, I was in her car."

"Hm.  Well, she used a stungun on me.  Did it happen to look like this?"

I looked at the screen, then switched back to Phone, and put it on Speaker.  "No, but she had one of those.  The one she used wasn't the pistol grip kind, but a regular one.  With the prongs on it?  Yeah, she got close, and hit me with that, but I think it was home made."

"The one she used on me was a mass market civilian model, made by Saber."

"Well, apparently she was using the electronics lab at school to make her own.  She called it a prototype, and she also had.  A whip."

"An electrical whip?"

"Yeah, made out of wires, but with the ends sticking out.  So, it got thinner, and thinner every time a wire stuck out, and wrapped with rubber tape.  Not electrical tape, the kind that stretches, and doesn't have any adhesive for evidence.  So, it only sticks to itself."

"So, you got a good look at it."

"She told me all of this.  Wouldn't shut up about it, but that plugged into the arm of her suit.  Then, she tested it on me."

"She whipped you with it?"

"She shocked me with it, to see how well it worked.  Over, and over again, then played with her smart watch until I could get up, and try to run again."

"To adjust the shock?"

"Huh!  Huh, huh!"

"Jason, are you all right?"


"You sound like you're having a panic attack, or flashbacks?"

"I have to go."

"I'll come se';"

I just hung up.


Detective (Investigation)

I stopped by the lab.  Not the crime lab, but I talked to the Electronics instructor, and asked about her Identity.  Fake ID, but after that, I discussed things like stun-guns, charging circuits, and the collar she put on him.  Said something about not having a miniature tracking device, she could just stick to his clothes.  So, if he ran, she could just find him again when he got tired.  Lost out in the woods, no idea where to run, but she didn't.  Run, she just patiently walked like a horror film, he said.  She used the opportunity to work on her prototypes.

Apparently, the rubber suit is insulating.  The victim saw wires running down the legs, with cable ties holding them on.  Just like everything else, but rubber is an insulator, and the grounding wires give the current somewhere to go.  The trick with sub-lethal electrical weapons like stun-guns, and Tazers is Voltage isn't what kills you, it's the Current.  I took Criminal Justice, then went to the Police Academy, and then went back to another Community College to get certified as a PI. 

After I got fired.  Yeah, she got me fired, but I fucked up.  In my defense, nobody would look at her, and think master criminal.  Just the kind of girl you make dump out her purse to search for cigarettes, and maybe small items from shop-lifting, and a fake ID.  She also seems to have some sort of Hero complex, or anti-hero, anti-vilain?  I should probably stop by a comic book shop or something just to talk to the nerds there, and get a line on their culture. 

Okay, my therapist said I've got a bit of a hero complex myself, and I'm starting to have vigilante fantasies, but with that being said.  I can at least understand her victimology somewhat.  She monologues, about monologing, and the first known victim was a cop.  Was, a cop.  Stolen car, from an auto-shop.  No sign of forced entry there, but she broke in to get the keys to the car in the first place.  So, she probably stole the keys to the garage somehow, but she's not just a criminal.  She sees herself as a criminal mastermind, and calls herself The Stunner.

The supersuit turns out to be pretty low tech.  She had a smart watch, that's about as cutting edge as it gets, and a hatchback.  He didn't get the driver's license, he was a little too busy getting terrorized, and used as a Guinea pig for testing an electrical whip on, but her intent is to incapacitate, and not kill.  I think she's probably undecided, or trying to justify her crimes as going after a sexual predator.  It's okay, he's a child molester, and registered sex offender for exposing, and photographing his 12 year old sister with her 13 year old friend. 

He didn't just play the victim.  He is a victim, and that doesn't make what she's doing right.  What she's doing is getting ready, for something.  My guess is kidnapping, and torture, at least the FBI Profile seems to suggest proto-Anger Excitation serial sadistic torture, but I'm just looking for answers here.

Right?  I don't know, I want to believe that.  I'm not out for revenge, but this whole case has got me redefining the concepts of victim, and perpetrators completely.  Now I know that a lot of criminals consider themselves the Hero in their sick psychotic scenario.  So therefore, every time I start to think about myself as The Hero, I have to remind myself, that's just what they think.

I'm starting to wonder if there ever were any real heros, or not?  This experience changed my life, and honestly, I didn't even have it that bad.  So I got Tazed.  It hurt, and ruined my career on the force, and humiliated me.  I don't really have all that much to seek revenge for, but electrician classes don't really cost all that much, and I can take them back home with all the evidence I have all ready.

It's also retracing her steps.  She had to go through all of this, and she's developed safeguards to protect herself from her own weapons.  Latex fetish?  Her male victim, or the one I've found seems to think so, but if I'm going to take her on, I'm going to need some Armor, at least.  While I'm at it, it is fairly simple technology.  She can make it out of simple household wiring, and rubber tape, so it shouldn't be all that hard for me to understand.  The basics, I don't know about those heiroglyphics he drew up on the white board, but I got a picture of that as well.

She needs capacitors, and coils.  To oppose each other in parallel, whatever that means.  Maybe I can find someone who can trace that.  She doesn't have to buy commercial from Saber, or steal a Police Issue Tazer any more, but she hasn't even fired that.  She only has 2 shots, and unless she has a cop friend she can't buy any more, but if she robs another cop, then her MO is already in the system.

So, the biggest thing I have to worry about is that whip.


Feedback is always welcome.
Freakishly Strange

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^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« Reply #3 on: July 19, 2018, 04:01:16 PM »

Stunner (G Solo Tentical Fantasy)

"HUUUUUUHN!"  My primal orgasmic yell echoed in the alleyway, and it bulged deep inside of me untl I stopped gripping the bulbs as tightly.  "Huhn huhn uhn.  Whew!  Hihnehahuh!" 

Well, that sure worked!  Like all my best ideas, it came to me in a dream.  I don't remember all that well, but I had been hitting the tenticon hentai a little hard, and then I slept on it.  The important part is somehow my unconscious mind is able to keep working on things, even in my sleep, but the trick was finding the proper solution.

The material is easy.  Latex, it's so useful for a fluid barrier to contain evidence, prophylactic, insulation to prevent electrical discharge until I'm ready for it to go off, but in this case the flexible properties are what came into play.  The first model was simply a condom, filled with fluid inside me.  So, I could feel it gush in, but contain it.  Then, when it started to bulge out, I found that I could over-fill it.  Squeeze the bulge on the outside and squirt it inside so it gushes, and expands, and the rubbery tip squeaks against my cervix.

That was intense, but then I got some liquid latex, and started making molds.  The second model is more like a worm, only in tapered segments, with bands in between so they bulge inside me, but also stretch deeper, and deeper.  Squeezing the reservoir between my thighs for expanding, contracting, squeaking, rolling, and pistonlike action all at once.  Which is incredible, and arguably more pleasurable than even this one.

What the Mark III has isn't more stimulation, nor even complexity.  It's relatively simple, so not even as many Kinds of stimulation as my fat fuck grub, but instead I upgraded the Control.  3 of them, just tapered tubes with bulbs on the end, but coated together into a triangular cross section.  So they can expand, and contract differrentially. 

"Huh!"  So, squeeze one bulb, and only that side grows, making it flex around the other 2.  Squeeze the other 2, and they grow back the other way, around the first shrinking, and contracting.  I'm going to need more practice, to see what other tricks I can do, but with both hands I can't really squeeze all 3 at once, equally.  Except for just sitting down on it, and we're talking about a filthy alley floor here, but that's a big part of the scene.

That first guy was out in the woods, which was all right.  Safer, I guess, with nobody around to hear him scream.  So, he could run himself ragged while I tested the range on the tracking collar, but I'm Urban.  I don't want to go camping, or hiking, what I really need is a Lair.  With a dungeon, and maybe a nice secret entrance, but I was just out scouting locations when I got excited thinking about what I could do to my victims when I get them there, and now I have to pity fetishists.

Latex especially, but the same goes for PVC, Neoprene, Lycra, pantie hose, crossdressing, lace, satin, or whatever.  Yeah, I have a latex fetish, but your typical ones are just.  "Cosplayers, huh!"  Just playing dressup, you miss out on all the wonderful possibilities in a material like Latex.  Sure, I like the way it feels, and especially how it squeaks inside me, or the groaning rubs when it stretches, and slips over my body.  Even the clingy feeling when my rubber suit fills up with sweat, but that's not all it can do, and they seem to think they're so creative. 

"Oh yeah.  Fashion.  That's great, you look just fine, but what can you do with it?  Just fuck?  Phft!  Your parents must be so ashamed of you.  What, do they get a dirty little thrill, and brag to their friends about how kinky they are?  I WEAPONIZED sex.  You see this?  I weaponized latex, with sex, and what did you do?  You put on a rubber suit to look sexy.  You're pathetic!"

Too bad nobody will believe I'm even old enough to drink, so I can go in a fetish club, and show them how it's done.  "I Rape Men.  Well, a man.  Once.  Huh!  Well, no time like the present."

Now I'm ready for #2.


Detective (Fm Dom)

"Welcome to Sonic, can I take your order?"

"Is Jason working today?"  His PO said he should, and she has his schedule.

"Jason V. or Jason G?"

"Jason Gagnon.  I talked to his PO, and I'll pay for a.  Chicken Fried Steak basket, with onion rings, and a Malted Milkshake while I wait?"

"What size?"

"Route 44."

"That'll be a buck fifty extra.  Your total will be nine seventy eight.  He'll be right out in a moment."

He's a sex offender, and on Parole, but I don't guess there's any chance of young girls going in, nor even getting out of the car.  Maybe sitting out at the tables in the middle, when it's not raining, or possibly following them around to the restroom.  Does it require a key, like a gas-station?

I don't know, his past crimes are less important than what they can tell me about him, but you're not a profiler, Barbara. 

"Detective Ernst?"

He looks older, of course the photo from his records were when he was 14.  Then 16 when he got out of Juvenile Hall, and now he's 19.  Skinny, maybe if he ate more, and started working out.  He could be more useful to me, but I need help, and he's motivated.  By revenge, I'm not going to do anything illegal, but I'm done counting out the money, and gave him a tip.  "Keep it."  Set the tray on the passenger seat.  "You clocked out?"

"Let me just run this back to the register, but yeah.  I can go.  Is this about."  He looked around, "The case?"

"I talked to your PO, and she said it would be all right if you helped me out with it.  If you don't mind."

"I'll be right back."

While he was in there, I pulled out the foil wrapped cardboard "Basket."  Checked the bottom of the bag for ketchup, and tore open the package for my chicken fried steak strips.  Munched an onion ring while it was still hot, and he came out in a raincoat. 

I put the tray up under the menu, and unlocked the door.  He just draped the military green hooded jacket over his arms, and shook it off under the roof before he got in.  "I don't know what else I can tell you."

"Mh." Set the shake down in the cup-holder.  "Well, I was thinking about what you said, and I decided that I do want to go after her.  Buckle up."  I started up the SUV, put it in gear, and turned around to back out.  "Anything you tell me could help."

"Well, she just killed the last one, so."

"I know that.  And I know it's scary, but you know she has to be stopped, right?"

I pulled around the back, and stopped at the ramp.  Not much traffic, so I just turned, and headed for the hotel.

"Of course I'm scared, I'm lucky to be alive, and now she's electrocuting people to death!"

"I know, and I developed something for that, so you don't have to worry."


"Armor.  It's all very complicated, but you remember when she told you the latex was for insulation?"

"And fetish."

"Yes, of course."

"She kept rubbing her body on me, in between shocks."

"I know, I read all about it, and the FBI has a theory."

"Oh yeah?"

"It's called Frotteurism, and Picarism.  A lot of serial killers like Albert Fish engaged in similar behaviors as part of their victim rehearsal."

"So you're a profiler, now?"

"Oh, no.  I just read the profiles.  There's a lot of them, what with the publicity, and popularity of the case.  She's gotten a lot of attention, and they updated the preliminary profile based on what she did to the body of the second victim."

"What did she do?"

He looked at his lap.  Holding the basket for me.  "If you're hungry."

"Oh, you don't want it?"

"I thought I'd try them, since it's a new limited time item, and they had a deal on them, but they're kinda dry, and overcooked."  Compared with the Dairy Queen ones?  "Save me some onion rings?"  I took another pull off my milkshake, and put it back.  Thought, "Well, they got a lot of epithelial, skin cells.  From the body, and his clothes, which is consistent with frotteurism, but naked, instead of wearing latex."

"Oh, she did that, too.  After she got undressed, then she shocked me again, and put on her suit.  Then, she did it again, and again."

"She also upgraded her heels."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Among other things, there were indetations, with scorched organic matter in the soil.  Also on his body, but they seem consistent with electrodes, wired into the tips of stiletto style heels."

"Mh, yough mindh?"

"No, go ahead."  He pulled the cap off, and washed down a mouthful. 

"Well, she is really short, and petite."

"Exactly, so adding heels not only makes her taller, but also grounds her, for delivering DC shocks."

"Direct current?"

"You take any Electronics?"

"No, not really.  But I know the difference between AC, and DC."

"There were also puncture wounds.  Shallow needle marks in his biceps, pectorals, glutes, and quadraceps."

"What for?"

"Well, other than the picaristic pleasure of stabbing his mucsles, there was also nerve damage consistent with electro-shock. and the electrodes were in pairs."

"What the hell for?"

"If I had to guess, galvanic response.  Directly, once she had him incapacitated, she could stimulate his muscles, to play him like a puppet."

"Dear god, I knew she was sick, but.  That's just plain fucked up!"

"She also sodomized him, and suffocated him with something forced down his throat.  So, all this basically adds up to an Anger-Excitation Sexual Sadist.  She's way outside the typical profile here, but the MO is exactly the same."

"How is she different?  Then the typical sadist?"

"Well, she's a young girl.  Typically, they're all men, at least in their thirties, but that's mostly because of Means, not Motive."

"Means, meaning.  You mean."  He shook his head, "As in Privilege?"

"Hahuhe, you're not turning into an SJW are you?"

"Well, aren't you?"

"No, I was.  A cop, I guess I had a social justice.  I don't know, I'm not sure what that actually even means, but it was really just a joke.  Just trying to lighten the mood a little."

"Oh, yeah.  So, what you're saying is you have a plan, to stop her?"

"Well, it's not so much a plan at this stage is getting my hands on everything I need.  Then, I can start working on a plan, based on what I have to work with."

"So, what do you need me for?"

"Well, honestly manpower.  2 is greater than one, and I figured if we can get on either side of her, she can't fight us both at once."  Especially if he's in some sort of Uniform.  "Between us, we should be able to at least double our odds, but first we have to find her."

"How do we do that?"

"Well, I was thinking the best way to flush her out of hiding, especially sooner rather than later would be to piss her off.  The best way to do that is to steal some of her publicity, and while we're at it.  I'm running out of money, honestly.  I haven't taken any paying jobs, and while I had a lot saved up, that's just about dried up.  Spent it mostly on gear, and this."  Tap the dashboard with my hand.

"Yeah, nice truck, but.  Don't you think it's a little obvious?"

"How so?"

"A black suburban, with tinted windows?  You don't have Government plates on the back of this spook mobile, do you?"

"No, but.  Huh, I guess that is a valid point."

"You know, I don't know."  he shook his head, and looked down at the basket in his lap.

"Know what?"

"I don't know what i expected you to look like, but.  You wear a lot of makeup, just like she did."

"I know, it's how she disguises herself."

"She wore a wig, too."

"Oh yeah?"  That wasn't in the reports.

"Yeah, when she took it off, she was shaved bald.  Completely bald, I mean.  Not a hair on her, not even eyebrows."

"What about eye lashes?'

"I don't know.  I don't remember, I can't.  I can't even think about her eyes.  If I could even look at them before, and now I couldn't even tell you what color they were."

"Well, you do avoid eye contact."

"I do?"

"Yeah, and it's creepy.  You know, that's one of the reasons people don't trust you?  That's why look me in the eye is so cliche'.  People subconsciously think you're lying, or you have something to hide if you won't look at them when you're talking."

"Oh."  He looked over.  "The light changed."  They're brown, and honestly uninteresting.  I honestly couldn't tell you what I expected to see in them, but at least he was made aware of it.  Whatever his role in this, he's not much good for being the Muscle,

"Okay."  Of course, that makes sense, when you're trying to hide something like child pornography. 


Feedback is always welcome.
Freakishly Strange

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^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« Reply #4 on: July 19, 2018, 04:23:36 PM »

"Uh, I really have to work on this."  The arm clamp, or all the mechanisms I tried to come up with for gripping my arm.  So I don't have to hold onto it, but I still have to strap it on.  Plug it in, and wait for it to initialize.

It came up on my Heads Up Display.  Built into my visor, so I started by uncoiling it, to roll out on one side.  The edges of the control plates clicking against the pavement, and watched the tip.  Twirling my thumb around, then rotating the other way to check the servos.  Then, my pinky.  Pulling the cables between the bracing gimbals, then my ring finger, longest, and pointer until I had a fist, and a coil.

"Uh!"  It's heavy, I really should be working on the powersuit.  So I'm strong enough to lift it, and hold it out.  It's still a prototype, and it covers up my whole arm, so I don't have that hand to manipulate things, and 2 would just cover both of them.  It extends out in a long powerful tentacle, but I still have to roll it.  Swinging out, but striking neato sparks off the pavement when the steel control plates hit a piece of flint, I would think.  "Uhn, huh!"  

Practicing my aim.  I can control it, but I miss a lot, and it's hard to get it to grab the I-beam where I want it.  Too low, I let go, and "Ngh!"  Jerk it up to grab higher.  I'm never going to get someone's arms, bouncing it off the ground, and I need the power-suit for Mass too.  I'm too light, but swinging around like Batman, or Spiderman is just plain stupid.  

I have a car, and I can drive, but not with this big heavy thing strapped on.  I need a quick disconnect so it snaps on.  It's just this body isn't really designed for quickly attaching an end effector like the tentacle to, but at least it works.  And the power pack makes me a little heavier too, but grabbing someone won't do me a whole lot of good if they can just throw my 97 pounds around like a rag doll.  

"Huh huhn!"  It sure wears me out, too.  "Well, at least something works.  Uhn!"  There's a barrel over there I can knock over, and roll up with the thumb tip catching it, and tightening it with my pinky first.  Carefully pulling it in to a fist, and gripping it, tighter, and tighter until the sides start to buckle.


"Uhn!"  I have to yank, with both arms, and step back to twist, and swing the whole thing out.  Pointing, and flicking out my fingers one by one until the hourglass shaped metal drum is released to bounce across the pavement into the metal wall at the end.  "Ihihihnahuh!  Huh, hehn hihn!  Whew!"

That thrill re-energized me a little.  "Well!  Wh!"  The wig got in my face, though, and now it's slipped crooked on my head.  I almost hit myself, but the weight of the tapered cable held me back.  So, I had to straighten it with my left hand, and pull the errant strands out of my face.

"COOL!"  A boy?  Running up.  "What is that, a robot toy?"

Make a fist to pull it back.  "It's a prototype, of my own design."  I looked at my nails, and buffed them on my shirt.

"What's it for?"

"Grabbing stuff, uhn!"  Roll it around, and back to the structural support behind me, but I had to step back again.

"Like Dr. Octopus, from Spiderman!"  he clapped, jumping and laughing.  Stopped, and made a face.  "Spiderman 2, I think.  Not the new one, are you gonna make 3 more?"

"No, maybe another one."

"Nowait, like Whiplash, from Ironman 2?"  He held up 2 fingers.

"Yeah, maybe more like that."  I sure could use an Arc Reactor.

"Can I try it?"

"Huh!  It's not a toy, and it only fits me.  My arm, I didn't make it for you."

"What's your name?  My name's Bobby, what's yours?"


"Ooh, cool name!  Are you going to be a superhero?"


"A villain?"

"Yeah!  Uh huh?"

"Cool!  Let me hear your evil laugh."

"Well, ihnm.  No, I don't have an evil laugh.  It's silly."

"Oh, okay."

"I don't need a sidekick."

"Okay, but can you sign.  Uhm."  he looked for something.  "Let me find something, real quick.  My friends probably won't believe me, but when you get on the news."  He stopped.  "Wait, did you say, Stunner?"


"Oh."  he nodded, "I, have to go.  Now."  He ran.  I thought about sweeping his legs, but he was gone too quickly, and besides.  I kind of liked him.  I better pack it up, and leave, before he tells somebody, and they come back.

But still.  He heard of me!  I have a fan?  That's pretty awesome.



"Oh," something she said, "Where do you think she gets her money from?"

"I have no idea.  She's probably rich."

"Well, I was thinking, since she's so seductive, and obviously sexually motivated.  That's the kind of serial killer."

"I know what that means."

"Yeah, so anyway.  You think she does prostitution?  There was this one, serial killer, and she was a hooker."

"Eileen Wournos."  She nodded, and hit the signal.  To turn, and take a dirt road.  Over by the wind farm, but we didn't go very far.

"That's actually not a bad idea."  She put it in park, and cut off the motor.

"That your trailer?"  It looks like one of those toy haulers, which explains the big black SUV.  Of course, she's also a cop, or she used to be, and out for revenge on the girl that ruined her career, but I'm not stupid, and this profiling stuff isn't that hard.  You just have to pay attention, and know people.  What makes them tick, but she's motivated.  

Doesn't talk much, and then it all comes out in a big lecture, or she thinks out loud, but right now she's just unlocking the padlock in the back.  It's not a door, it leans down like a ramp instead.  "You need a hand with that?"

"No."  She just steps back, and sets it down, but the inside has rails up it, that stop at the wheel wells.  2 sets of wheels, but close together, and a door. No race-car, or classic car, or nothing back there, just a garage, but nothing in it.  Lots of tool boxes, and cabinets on the sides, though.  "Huh, that would explain.  I don't know, mark it down as a possibility.  Huh!"  Inside, the front is just like an RV, I guess.  No windows, but there's a shelf with a bed on it, and a tiny little kitchen.  Another door in front, I guess goes to the trailer hitch, but that's it.

"Good idea, going with the RV.  So if she moves to a different city, you can follow her, right?"

"You know anything about child prostitution?"

"No, but she's no child."

"I know that, but passing as one is a major part of her MO."

"I don't know.  Now that I think about it, she probably wouldn't be able to resist the urge, and then she'd have a lot more victims."

"No, but you, how should I put this.  You are a child pornographer."

"Not any more.  Honestly, I just helped Cherese, and her girlfriend."


"Yeah, I just let her use my phone to sext her girlfriend, because they're lesbians."

"Ha, as if you weren't into it."

"Well, yeah.  Of course I was, but I got caught up in it, and I learned my lesson.  Honestly, I'm terrified of girls that look like that now."


Ms. Demeanor

I don't know what to believe, but I'm sure not able to relax, and why did I bring him home with me in the first place?  Okay, maybe his story checks out with the facts of his case, and it's a sympathetic enough story, but if he was a child molester, then he would make excuses like that, and he had over 5 years to think about it.

What am I doing?  Why am I even attracted to him at all?  He's creepy, and a perp, and what was I ever thinking he could possibly offer as a partner in crime?  All right, to be fair he did have a little insight, and it's nice to have someone to discuss the case with informally, but in his defense the prostitution angle was something I just hadn't considered.

"So, what's this plan you wouldn't talk about on the road?  It sounded like it had something to do with getting money?"

"Oh, yeah."  That's what I needed an accomplice for.  It's a 2 man job, at least, and I can't scrub off the Cop look after I spent so much time trying to fit in at the Academy, and on the force.  "Well, we have to wait for it to rain again."  It wasn't much, and blew over so fast, there wasn't even any mud out here, if the thunderstorm even made it out here.  "But first, we have to get ready, which means fitting you for an insulation suit."

"Like yours?  Where do you keep it, anyway?"  He looked around, but it's not as if I have a whole lot in the way of privacy here.  I live alone, it's minimalistic, the bathroom is really too tiny and tight to change in, so.  "Well, you mind wating outside, or in the garage while I change?"

"No, not at all."

I know, I'm not his type.  Sure, even if what he said was true about his sister, and her girlfriend sexting on his phone, he went after her.  She was proud enough of herself to release the footage of him stalking her around the campus, and I mean.  I'm no expert, when it comes to sexual predators, but he looks like a child molester.  

It's not a look you can get out of a photograph, but on video.  The way he kept his head down, turned so the bill of his ballcap was out of the way, and he could glance around it from the corner of his eye.  Trying to be inconspicuous only made him look more suspicious, especially in the context of following a girl that looks more like she would belong at a jr. high school, rather than a community college.

Unless she was a child prodigy, a genius, and talented at electrical engineering.  She bragged about that, and her electrician instructor showed me her forged class schedule.  At least the college's official schedule, based on forged identity.  Birth certificate, social security, claiming to be 19, but still looking no older on her official student ID than she did on her fake license, 3 years ago.

"Huh!"  I should take a shower, I'm sweaty enough to stink, but settle for a cat bath with the dish towel.  Get my pits, and under the tits before I pull on the sports-bra.  I'm going to have to wash it anyway, not getting any dirtier, but the dry-suit is a pain to hose out, and hang up inside out to drain.

I'm still not used to how much I've changed, and again.  As much as I blame her for ruining my police career, I have to admit that was a bit of a dead end.  I was already experiencing the resistance.  Nothing as overt as sexual harassment, but I had other rookies from the same class.  Men, who the veterans just automatically trusted more.  

It's not even a conscious choice, or it didn't have to be.  Just looking over the squad room, the sergeant had to decide who to send to follow up with a violent offender, or patrol a dangerous area.  While I ended up without a partner, because nobody would work with me.  Running speed traps, and writing tickets for driving without a seat-belt, when I always wanted to make a difference, and had a Hero Complex.

"Huh!"  Zipping it up, and turning to hold open the bathroom door.  Doubles as a closet, to hang the dry-suit over the tub, so it could drain after hosing it out from training in it.  "Well, now there's at least 1 super-criminal out there."

Fuck it, straighten up, and lock my knees with my feet planted wide, and my fists up akimbo on my hips.  Puffing up my chest, and rocking my hips so the small of my back relaxes, and my abs flex.  Pulling themselves into position in the tight, practically corseted waist of the cobalt blue neoprene.  A bitch to sew, and seal, I'll have you know, but I have a super suit, and damn it.  I don't care if it's a fantasy or not, if it covers up my insecurities, and failures, or I'm going to die.  Electrocuted to death by a pipsqueak I keep underestimating, I like feeling like a hero, and now I look the part.

Well, lets see what he thinks about it.



Note:  He was right, on the money.  Being a legal aged girl with a body like that, not to mention getting ideas from his entry on the Sex offender Registry (Where she found him)  She quickly discovered she could make a lot of money doing pseudo-incestuous childporn on sites like Xvideos.  I'm not saying that she is Kenzie Reeves, or Lili Rader, but just the fact that there are such videos (Just do a quick search) shows that there is a market for that sort of thing.

So, if you can't use your own imagination, the same basic body.  Only without the tattoos, and her natural haircolor is brown.  However, she shaves her head, her eyebrows, and her whole body to wear wigs, not to mention a latex fetish suit wired to ground it, and power her various prototypes.  I'm not even going to come up with a porn-star name, she probably has several, because they aren't the sort of alter-egos she would be proud of.

What she wants to be known for is a sexual terrorist.  Stunner, that's the only name she really cares about, striking fear into the hearts of men.  She's willing to Kill, just to prefect her prototypes.  So, having sex on camera, and saying "No, daddy.  I don't want to do this" is literally child's play to her. The means to an end.  So, while I wouldn't have any trouble writing those parts, I won't.  They're inconsequential, not to mention, you can just type in a search for Sleeping Step-Daughter and Lili Rader to see videos like the one's she's performed.  TBPH, there's too much prep involved just with prototyping, and testing in secret.  

Even that's not going so well, as evidenced by the fact that whenever she used an abandoned warehouse long enough, inevitably someone caught her at it.  He was lucky to be a starstruck little fanboy, and not a threat.  A security guard would have just become her next victim, but that encounter only increased her delusions of grandeur.  Instead of her paranoid persecution complex, and rage to cover up her insecurities.  There is no in between, her worldview only accepts 2 kinds of people.  The strong, and the weak, and she hates feeling like the latter.

Ultimately, that's what drives her, along with her sexual motivation.  (Also, spoiler:  She was sexually harassed, and covertly molested by her father.  In other news, duh.  She buried it in her subconscious, because she hates being the victim.)

Feedback is always welcome.
Freakishly Strange

Fame 33
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^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« Reply #5 on: July 19, 2018, 04:49:56 PM »

Grappler [Text Drug Deal]

I can't help shivering.  Even with the slick layer for the rain to run down my back.  I'm scared, but I have to face my fear.  Underneath the overhang, I check my messages.

[The Glass House]

[Who is this?]

[You don't know me, but some Blues came buy, and busted all the windows in my house.  So, I need a lot of glass installed, but a friend of mine says I can get a discount, for a large enough order?]

[What friend?]

[Why?] She told me what to say, [You going to give him a discount for the referral?]

[How many windows are we talking about here?]  Of course, I already knew that Glass was a code word for Crystal Meth.  A pretty good front for selling drugs, since they do deliveries, and big jobs.

[A lot.  Unfortunately, money is tight, so I can only afford $15,000.00.]  The Messenger Service automatically capitalized the first initial, and added the period on the end when I hit [Send)

[Where's this house?  We'll come to you.]  She figured that would be plenty of money to get their attention.  Since they cook it, she doesn't know where, but in large enough batches to sell to the dealers that go to all the trouble of selling it to tweekers on the street.

[Out in the country, by the windmills.  I'll send you the location.]

It took quite a while.  Eiither to get that much together and loaded, or to cook enough batches.  However that much is in Crystal Meth, I don't know.  She tried to explain to me why we're offering to buy, instead of sell.  Since we need money, and not drugs, but I guess it makes sense they're more likely to come out here, and take such a big risk for a big score.  Than to spend money on their competition when they can make it, I guess she just found the suppliers a lot easier than the dealers they deal with, but the important part is that my shivering.  Pale, and skinny, huddled out in the middle of nowhere makes it easy for me to pull it off.

I'm supposed to be a meth head, trying to score some drugs.  To sell, but he'd test it out too like the junkies from Trainspotting.  I'm actually terrified.  After all, I'm out here waiting for drug dealers, and they pulled up in cars.  I could see them from the highway.  Turning by their headlights, then my phone buzzed again.

[Almost there.]

[I see you.]  Delete the whole conversation, and get out my flashlight to wave it around.  The one in the back stopped, while the other cars turned off, and roared around.  Spraying wet mud behind them like rally cars.  In fact, I think they might be either Imprezzas, or Lancer Evos.  Hard to tell through the rain, and in the dark with nothing but head, and tail lights behind them on the parkway, but the stopped one honked.

[Message from The Glass House:

Well, what are you waiting for?]

[You said you'd come to me.]

[We're not about to drag this out in the rain, and mud.]

[There's a concrete slab, and a loading dock right here.]

[All right.  Who's in the Suburban?]

They spotted her!  I almost paniced, but then I remembered what She said if they asked: 

[Just my driver.  I'm not going to carry it all on my back in the rain, and mud, neither.]

[All right, but tell her to keep her distance.]

He drove up slowly, and the other 2 cars roared around.  Sure enough, rally cars.  3 of them, I don't know enough about motorsports to tell you what models with the badges taken off, but they look new.  No numbers, or stickers on them, but they don't sound like your run of the mill street racers, any more than they drove a van with glass windows hanging off the sides.

Instead, they turned around, and backed in.  With brake-lights, while I tried to shine my flashlight around as best I could.  Until I was boxed in, and the loud purring sounded like thunder, only sustained, and then they pulled handbrakes.  To keep them running, but the passenger side doors opened, and seats folded up.  More guys got out, until there were 10 of them.  Including the driver of the main car. splashing through the ankle deep water flooded in from the ground around us.

"You got the money?"  They all stood by the trunks, ready to unlock them, but holding guns.  An Uzi, some MAC 10s, and Tech 9s, it looked like.  Scoks folded out by their shoulders, but held down diagonally instead of pointed at me.

"Of course.  Your boys can pile it up there, on the loading dock."

"Had to pick a night like this?"

Wasn't my plan, but I walled back by the stairs.  Where an alluminum breifcase was standing up, and I could shine my flashlight on it.  I just had to make it to the tops step, and keep my hand away from the metal pipe bent up to the loading dock as a guardrail.

"AGH!"  I looked back, but there was nothing to see.  No sparks, let alone movie special effects lightning bolts lashing out to hit the cars.  No nothing.

Just the gangsters, falling down and thrashing in the shallow water, screaming.  The cars cut out, though.  It was dark, and the screaming stopped.  So did the seizures, so she must have shut off the kill-switch. 

I just backed up the steps, pulling up my wet sleeves, and hearing noises.  From the cars, doors opening, but no splashes of anyone getting out.  I'm pretty sure that was guns cocking, though.  In the dark, over the white noise of the rain, but I can feel the cables, and the toggles dangling on the ends when I pull them out.  Slip them between my fingers, and grip them.  Careful just to hold them tight across the backs of my hands, but then there's lights. 

2 of them, pointing from both sides.  Out the doors, they must have radios to talk to each other, and time it so they both aimed their guns at me at the same time.  I doubt I could hit either of them, much less both at the same time, but at least I don't have to.

"Hands!  Show me your hands!"  One yelled, but I just held them up.  Open, the toggled still caught between my fingers.

"Naugh." The other one, from the other car.  "Here's what you gonna do.  Pick up that money, slowly, and bring it down here.  To me, if you try anything.  If you even move funny, He shoot you in the back, and I shoot you in the front.  Feel me?"

"I, don't shoot.  I'll do whatever you say, I don't even know what the hell is going on.  I thought we had a deal, I had no idea they were planning this."

"Well, hopefully."  Behind me, "She's not going to light up the water again with you standing in it."

"It's the Stunner."

"Nah.  Can't be.  She don't do this."

"Who else could it be?"  I know better.  "I didn't believe her either, but now, after she just electrocuted 10 guys, I believe her."

"Where is she?"

"I can't drive, we stuck here man, just give me the money."

Finally, there was a lightning flash.  I think, you can't time the weather, but only a matter of time before the thunderstorm cooperated.

"High, boys."  She stood up.  At the top of the ramp, her arms on her hips, heroically.  I saw it, but they could hear her, even over the rumble fading in late.  So, it must have been far off, but they're terrified.  "I'm going to let you go, but you better run on foot."

"All right," they just ran.  Took their guns with them, but with the lights attached, so they could at least see where they were going.  To the highway, they got out of the water as quick as they could, and just kept running.

She just laughed, long, hard, and loud, coming down to pat my shoulders, and hug me. 

"It's all right, man.  It's over, and you did great."


"Yeah, I'm proud of you.  Now, gimme your phone."

"Oh, okay."  Then, she called the cops.



Remember "The Stunner?"  Whoever she is, she made a big splash a few years ago when she arrived on the scene to take revenge on pedophiles.  Well, it seems that the former wannabe serial killer is all grown up, has a side kick, and declared war on drug dealers.

At least a new Patreon Account was created, under the name Ms. Demeaner with exclusive footage.  As this includes mass execution by electrocution, we can't link it directly, and the independent funding site has since removed the illegal footage.  However, not before a record in the hundreds of thousands of dollars were donated to alert them to the illegal content.  Among others, this author was able to access it while it was still available, and let me tell you, it's impressive.  For legal reasons, we can't publicly support mass murder, and vigilantism, but I have to give her points for style. 

Without going into too much technical detail, she appears to have accessed a small local power station.  I'm sure you've seen recent action movies, such as Thor: Goddess of Thunder, Wonder Woman: WW III, and Mrs. Marvel: Femizonia.  We're not saying that Disney's new renaissance of super-villainesses have drawn any inspiration from the masked terrorist, but need I point out at least 1 massive electrical attack in all 3?  What we can say is that, for those in the know, you can't just drop a couple of wires into a swimming pool, and expect it to deal a significant shock to everyone touching the water. 

Running some quick calculations, the width, length, and slope of the ramp should have contained approximately 450 cubic feet of water, which is a lot to electrify with enough juice to kill 10 men, and short out 3 compact cars.  I honestly can't go into any more details, and this is just a theory, but I seriously doubt the the choice of location just happened to be a small local power plant, and I'll leave it at that.

Officially, the Triangle Area Taskforce have only released this statement, requesting she surrender in return for taking her change of heart into account:

[Watch Video: RTP Task Force Press Confrenece on...]

As for her mysterious sidekick, there's little information on him, other than identifying himself as The Grappler.  As a lifelong fan of comic books, superheros, villains, and unrepentant Geek Girl, I have to say that this mystery is intriguing.  Unfortunately, he's chosen to hide his face, but just the fact that The Stunner saw something in him, and the possibility of him maybe going on to a solo career?  Only time will tell, but my email is in my bio, should you find yourself alone, and looking for a new partner.


PS:  To The Stunner, please don't take that comment about being a "Wannabe Serial Killer" as a personal insult, nor a challenge.  I for one am glad that you could stop with only killing one.  I'm sure those last 10 were just an accident, in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Please don't track me down, and electrocute me, I only have the deepest admiration for you, and what you have done.  Also, I have no interest in pedorasto, child pornography, nor dealing crystal methamphetamine.  I'm just an editor, and a big fan.


Feedback is always welcome.
Freakishly Strange

Fame 33
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^Lady Lisa Lyon^

« Reply #6 on: July 19, 2018, 05:04:38 PM »

"Huh!"  Well, maybe not a side-kick, but I'm starting to realize that I can't go it alone.  That, and whoever hit those meth dealers.  I don't know, backlit by the lightning flash, can't see much besides the outfit, but obviously not me.  At all, she might have "Grown up" in the past 8 years, but I'm still the same size 4 I was in middle school.  

Copycats, so it's time to make a public appearance.  Unfortunately, the closest thing we've got to a Fetish bar is gay, but beggers can't be chosers.  I rolled up, and locked my drive wheels.  Standing up, a little hunched by the weight of my backpack, but that can't be helped.

"Cute," the bouncer looked unimpressed, "But you're going to have to take off the helmet, and show som I Deahgh!"

KT KT KT KT KT KT!  I just grabbed his arm, in the Talk to the Hand stance, and gripped tight enough to press the electrodes into the contacts.

"I am The Stunner.  That's the only Identity you need to know."


"About time she showed up on the scene."

The boys gathered around, fangirling.  Mostly leather, a lot of PVC, but it's not a dark and stormy night.  It's summer, and gay, but hopefully that means they'll keep their hands to themselves, or each other.

"Let's go inside."  This back wheel, and the molded graphite plate for it is uncomfortable, the ballistic vest plate, and utility pouches don't quite balance it out, so I zip it off.  

"Open the door."  Some hands politely help me remove it.

The guy behind the counter doesn't even say anything, he just hits the solenoid.

So, the door opens, and the thudding bass is joined by abrasive electronic music.

<a href="" target="_blank"></a>

Wall to wall men, gay men, but butch.  Muscular, at least the topless hunks on the dance floor, with lesbians?  Blown up on the screen behind them, with intelibeams flashing, strobing, and panning around.  Gay guys, in the capital of transphobia, where the Bathroom Bill was written.

I'm sure to find Allies here.  No love lost for the powers that be, and they're starting to take notice of me.  Taking off my helmet, and holding it out for someone to take it for me.

The music stops.

"Hi, guys.  I know I'm not your type, but I thought I'd stop by, and make you an offer."

Let's see how many of them refuse, Me.

"Who do you think you are?"

"You can call Me, the Stunner!"


Audry (F Solo Flight)

The real trick was getting to the top of the PNC Plaza, with all my gear.  Well, not all the way on top of the sloped roof, but there is an observation deck, and everything is fairly light.  Then, the tourists started to notice me stripping down to pull out my flight suit.

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?"

"My name is T T."  Pulling out the power pack, so I can show them, proudly.  Stark naked, it's a skintight wingsuit.  Commercially made, though "This is a Twin Turbine of my own design.  If you'd like to take a look."

With their cell-phones already out.  The men I can't do anything about, but I don't really have much to be ashamed of.  "Are you a nudist?"

"No, I'm a superheroine, it's just a form fitting suit."  Shrugging it on over my shoulders, "You have to understand that human flight is tricky.  So, every ounce counts."  So, I can zip it up, and then, bend to pick up the light weight aluminum housing.  For the counter-rotating electric turbines.  Settle the control boards built into the vest.  Buckling, and tightening the harness before zipping in the wings, and the gusset between my legs.

"You're going to take off, from here?"

"That's the plan, yeah."


"Can you hover?"

"I can short-take-off, from the ground, but I thought the extra 500 feet would be free altitude I don't have to burn energy to reach," and I need the publicity.  Hooking up the exhaust tubes to my arms, and legs.  Part of the reason why the suit has to be so tight, they have to stay in place.

"So you're going to fight crime?"

"My plan is to help Law Enforcement, but yeah.  If there's going to be masked terrorists like Stunner, Misdemeaner, and The Grappler out there, then they could probably use a little help, don't you think?"

"How?  What can you do, just fly?"

"Yeah." Trapping on the go-pro (Tm) and hooking it into the communications board on my left breast.  "As an Eye in the sky."  Point at it.  "So, I can follow them, and help them track them if they try for a supervilain getaway."  The telemetry readouts boot up when I plug my helmet into the other board.  On the other side, I don't know what that back motor, and heel wheels can do, but she's limited to the streets.  Finally, I have to zip the wing panels out under my arms.  Since they don't allow me to raise my hands to my helmet, I had to build fingertip controls into the backs of the hand nozzles, like the engine startup.

"Don't they have helicopters?"

I just nodded.  Then let them step back from the rising whine of the turbines.  Becoming a shriek, and balancing on the 4 nozzles as I slowly got lighter, and lighter.  This is the tricky part, keeping both eyes on wind-speed, and vector.  Since my spread eagle flight position is basically a sail standing up, but the engineering challenge was making everything light, and powerful enough for a positive Thrust/weight ratio at full throttle.  

And now, I have to clear the high glass wall all the way around the observation deck.  Turning my palm thrusters to stabilize myself, keep me upright, and turn around to put the wind at my back.  Basically just elbow bends at the ends of the tubes, but it's cold thrust.  Nothing more than compressed air, but 4x3" tubes fed by 2 intermeshing turbines like a roots supercharger spinning at 90,000+ RPM.  The other digits blurring in the throttle readout, and burning up my charge meter quickly, but with the wind at my back.  Clearing the rooftop, I can level out, dive, and pick up forward speed.

Heading for RDU International Airport.  Restricted Airspace, where they will order me to land, and probably arrest me for it.  Having proven my point, no telling how many more phones will capture it, and flood social media with the debut, but all I really need is the Police frequencies to broadcast the live feed to.  In pursuit of whoever they want me to pursue.

I don't need any weapons, I don't plan on fighting crime.  I just plan on covering it from the sky.  I don't suppose anyone should be surprised that the criminals got their hands on this kind of capability first, but that opened the door for me.  The first Flying Superhero.

Let's see if they can appreciate how much they need me.  As a good example.  Of course they have helicopters, there's one now.  How much battery do I have?

"Catch me if you can."

Full throttle, I know my top airspeed it about 300 MPH without going into a dive.  Depending on the air pressure, which I can't accurately gauge at this speed, because of compression ahead of me, and relative vacuum behind me.  I'd need an Aeormetric probe out front, and I didn't have one, much less the weight to spare on adding it, but close enough is close enough.  I can't see them, but I can hear their Radar behind me.  

There's no way that Airbus H155 can keep up, it's got rotors.  No helicopter can.  Police, military, maybe if they had a Harrier, that's fixed wing, but local Police don't have VTOL Strike/Fighters.  They have helicopters.

No contest, but I better back off.  I still have to make it to RDU with enough energy for a powered landing.  With hover, I've got a parachute for safe landing regardless, but I'd consider that a failure.  That's what it's for, in case of failure, and this is a demonstration flight.  The whole point is to show what I can do for them.

Everything I can do.


Grappler (mF Talk)

"Well, it's official."  She said, "She's got some sort of thing for police, and security uniforms."

"Yeah."  Could have told her that.  "I forgot to mention, but she even accused me of playing campus security, and threatened to call them on me, when I met her on campus."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, so what does that mean?"

"I don't know, just something to add to what we do know, until we figure out where it fits."

"Is it time to call the FBI?"

"I've already sent them anonymous tips.  Online, there's no telling what they think of them.  If it's not something they already figured it out, but they don't have any way to reply."

"Why not?"

"Because, if I do anything more than drop them anonymous tips, they can trace it back to us, and need I remind you we're mass murderers."

"Yeah well.  They're meth dealers, they probably killed more than 10 people on overdoses alone."

"That's completely irrelevant.  Look, I know you're a psychopath, and there's no way around your amorality, but just for the sake of argument:  There's no justification for cold blooded murder.  It doesn't matter who the victims are, they're Our victims.  It doesn't matter that I threw the kill-switch, because you're there, and you led them too their deaths.  Knowing exactly what was going to happen to them."

"Well, not exactly.  Don't expect me to cry, or loose any sleep for them, is all I'm saying, but I know it was murder.  I don't care, I am a psychopath, but if I'm going to play the Hero/psychopath, I might as well have something to say to the cops to explain our actions."

"Well, in that case, you might want to consider Self Defense.  They all had submachineguns, and they would have killed us both as soon as they realized that we didn't bring any money.  Beyond that, you can truthfully say that I lied to you."

"I knew you're planning on killing them, and pinning it on that Stunner girl.  I just didn't know how you were planning on making money off it, or letting the drivers go to report it."

"Well, they sure struck fear into the local Meth market."  She chuckled.


"I'm not the psychopath, I'm the sociopath."

"What's the difference again?"

"Complicated."  Never can get a straight answer outta her.  I don't really care, all I know is she's a badass, and as long as she keeps fucking me, I'll follow her lead.  To the ends of the Earth if I have to.  I don't even care about Stunner.  If I ever even saw her again, and had the chance, I'd thank her.  Never trust her again, but she honestly changed my life, and if it weren't for her, I never would have even become Mr. Ernst.

"So, what do you think about her new suit?"

We went over the footage from the sex club.  Downtown, it's shut down, but she made her point.  Ms. Demeaner isn't her, she's a copy-cat, and sure enough.  Giving her credit not only made hundreds of thousands of dollars in hours off of her marketing, it also caused her to come out in the open.  Reveal herself, and she didn't even attack anyone.  Just found a stage, and made her demands.

"I don't understand the studs all over it."

"Well," she rubbed her chin, and stopped it on a good shot of her.  "She looks like a Cheetah, and called it a Scuff-suit, but her monologing is getting worse."

"Not really."  She hadn't seen it.  "She had a stage, and an audience, and lots of new gadgets to show off.  You think the black studs are like wheels?"  I got an ide, "Even if they don't roll, if she does slip up going down the road like that.  Maybe they could keep her from getting caught on her armor."

"Maybe.  That, and it's a fashion statement.  It looks like she's got 7 nipples, for one thing, and do her breast look any bigger, or padded out?"

"I can't tell."  I looked away.  "Huh, honestly I didn't get a good look before, but."

"Here."  She's smiling in my face, and unsnapping her shirt.  A uniform shirt, except for the brass snaps, and navy blue with a bright yellow bra inside, but this isn't a scary little girl.  She's a full grown woman, strong, and sexy.  She works out, and showed me how to put on a little muscle, but she's not jealous of me.  She knows the last thing I want to do is look at Her.  See her ever again, but she unhooked the clasp in the middle for me, and pulled the ball chain over her head.  Threw the neck knife off to the side, so her B cups jiggle and shake in my hands.

"Don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of."

I never thought I'd ever be able to get it up again, but I only have to open my eyes.  Look up in her's, serious, and bright blue.  She keeps me safe, and makes me stronger.  

I just don't know if she can take her, or how much help I'll be frozen up.  Parylized by fear, but she feels it hard in my pants.  Got that working again, and I can feel down her taut rippling abs to pull out the shirt from the top of her pants, get to work unbuckling her belt.

Tomorrow, at least there'll be cops there.  First, She'll be there if We'll be there.  The shopping center, at the corner of highway 54, and 55.  Almost to Durham, but she can't resist a chance to take her on.  She'll probably take them all on, and that new girl.  

Audrey, she's tall, 5'9" according to her website.  Skinny, though.  Even skinnier than a model, well maybe Cara de Lavigne.  If they make a movie about all this, that's who I'd cast for her, but it makes sense.  Her body is basically the fusilage of her suit, and she put plans on the internet.

I think we might even be able to replicate them, if it's powerful enough to lift me, or her.  That's the trick, she doesn't have an ounce of fat on her.  That I could see, and she stood proudly.  Naked in a crowd with smart phones to suit up.  She has nothing to be ashamed of, but she's not sexy.  She's brilliant, and beautiful, there's plenty of fans, but for some reason I'm thinking about the way the turbines intermesh, instead of sex.

It's called Dissociation.  Since my first time was rape, and she reminded me so much of my sister, and she giggled so cruelly t'll haunt my dreams forever, but this isn't her body.  Rubbing up against me, this is Barbara, and I can think about how the air is compressed.  Between the vanes of the turbines, with the air spinning out on centrifugal force from the intakes.  Also out through the venturi that force air into the tubes over her shoulders.  Under her arms to the nozzles in her hands.  Tilting for control, with more controls at her fingertips with rings to hold them in flight.

Like the ones for the cyberlash, she demonstrated, and showed off on the screen behind her at the club.  She brought a fucking power-point presentation, so I guess that is a bit of an escalation.  She just talked about it, off and on.  Like commercial breaks between torturing me, and humiliating me, but I still don't understand how the intermeshing turbines compress air into the manifold feeding the main tubes between her legs.

"UHN!  Huh?"

It's always a surprise.  Like a trigger breaking to release the sear, and with it a stream of lead shot from the bolt slapping back, and forth in the receiver.  "Uh, huh huhn!"

She kisses me, and caresses my face.  "There, feel better?"

I nodded.  "It cleared my head this time, too."

"Yeah?  What did you figure out?"  She climbed off, and threw out the rubber, while I gathered my thoughts.

She needs me too.  I know more about the electronics, and the engineering than she does.  "Well, if we can get a machineshop, with the proper tools, I think I might be able to make something like that Audrey's Flight Pack."

"Oh, well that might be useful."  She nodded, hooking up her bra, and snapping up her shirt, still untucked.

"I think we might need more wing surface, though.  Since we're bot much heavier than her, how much do you weigh?"

"A hundred fourty seven pounds, last time I checked."

All muscle.  "Yeah, a lot more wing surface, but I'm going to have to research ultralight aircraft, first.  You think she'll be there?  I could really use her help, since she's the original designer.  Maybe if I take that aluminum shroud off, I can trade some weight for drag, but she didn't show how she powers it, or controls it.  Just the engine, and the thrust vectors."

"Well, I looked into the Wing-suit manufacturers, but they said you have to do a minimum of BASE jumps to qualify."

"I was thinking more along the lines of rigid, or folding wings, on the engine itself.  As a sort of flight pack, like Captain Americas?  The new one, the black one."

"From the movie, yeah.  I get it."  We went and saw Iron Patriot for the 4th of July opening.  It was a nice date, but we don't have a whole lot of time for romance.

Maybe after she's gone.  She can't take all of us.  

« Last Edit: July 19, 2018, 06:13:56 PM by psiberzerker » Logged

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Freakishly Strange

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« Reply #7 on: July 19, 2018, 07:30:25 PM »

Stunner (F Solo Heist)

"Huh!"  I don't suppose it's any coincidence that the Twin Turbo girl made her appearence the day before I was supposed to turn myself in to the police.

Yeah, right.  That's my plan, why don't you wait in the parking lot, and close down the entire intersection of 54, and 55 until I show up?  Good plan, how much manpower, and press coverage is over there, while I'm sitting here at the downtown Cary branch of BB&T?

Oh well.  I got here early enough to climb through the back window, unclamp the top from the sides, and suit up in the bed of the half ton pickup.  I don't need the money, that's not the point, but neither was inspiring anyone as a role-model.  I'll take it, with a little pride that out of the first 3 to follow my lead, 2 of them are women, and the third seems to be following Ms. Demeaner's lead.

Don't know much about them, other than giving me credit for killing a gang of meth dealers was somehow supposed to draw me out in the open.  Give me some credit, enjoy the Patreon money you could switch to an offshore account before they shut it down, and spend it on some better tech.  Speaking of which, check out the 10 controls the fly-girl built into her hand tubes on that wingsuit!

Look familiar?  Copycats. Despite that impropriety, I have to grudgingly respect the rest of her design.  Starting with her, Audrey Jackson.  Suiting up in public, then stripping down naked before they could get to her in the middle of a field far away from any of the runways.

I don't know how well you can read a fashion statement, but that one screamed "I have nothing to hide."  All caught on video, bystander's phones.  Then she was clocked at 297 miles per hour, dusting Police Helicopters before apologising to the Air Traffic Controllers for invading their airspace. 

"Sorry, just need a place to land."  Then popped a paraglider chute, and came in for a landing, to surrender.  Just inside the fence, without interrupting air traffic at all.  The police helicopters had to hang back, as soon as they caught up, to stay out of FAA jurisdiction.

I have to laugh.  In this business, there are definitely points for presentation.  Sky blue, bare alluminum housing over the turbo-engine, and flexible spiral wound conduit.  She has a website, of course.  With plans, and videos showing how she made it in her garage.

Arizona, by the way.  Amateur ultralight, and BASE diving Vlog, lots of Likes to Colin Furze's garage designs.  Like that paramotor hovercycle he managed to no kill himself riding a few years back.  29 year old, practically nobody payed attention to before.  Now, she's rapidly approaching a million subscribers in under 16 hours.  Good job!  No seriously, congratulations.  I'm even glad my controls helped her perfect her prototype.

Good luck stopping me with a wingsuit, and a go-pro on the back of your helmet.  "Huh!"  At least she can keep up.  Finally, the Armored Car is pulling up across the street.  So, I close my laptop, set it down, and hook up my helmet.  Locked to the chest plates, so I can slick my hands through the arm holes, and feel for the finger rings of the controls.

[Initializing.]  Twirl my thumbs, and flex my fingers in sequence, to calibrate the sensor thresholds until [Ready]

Once it goes off of the heads up display, the controls are slaved to my fingertips, and I stretch my arms.  The top slides off easily, and I can reach out the sides.  Extending the linear electric rods, in opposing triplets, from the hexagonal sections, the uniformed security guards are already reacting across the street.

Running back to throw the moneybags through the open door, climb in, and slam it.  The truck starts moving before I set myself down, roll out my heel wheels, and lean back on my motor.  Lifting and retracting my arms to balance, and protect my armor as a roll-cage, arching out to the sides, I'm all ready rolling.

Catching up, and turning to track a good sized van I spotted driving up.  I close one eye so the other switches to the palm mounted camera.  Then the other, reaching out to grab the frame of the van through the radiator grill, and anchor myself.  Driving the fingers of my end effector through the middle of the armored back door of the target.  The linear acellerators braking, and recovering energy as the tons stretch them out to the end of travel. 

CRUNK!  The van yanks diagonally, then drags on it's wheels sideways.  Ramming the corner into the back of the car in front of it, before the door rips out with a lot of the back wall, dropping me back onto my feet.

Letting go, I have to support myself on my arms.  Then, just roll my boots out on the heel wheels, and lean back onto my motor pack.

They turn the corner, so I speed to catch up, catching a tree-trunk, and making the turn at close to 4 Gs from the accelerometers.


Oh look, they've got 7.5 BRNOs!  Good thing I rated this armor to deflect .223 rifle rounds at this angle, or I might get worried.  Then, they get creative throwing out the change bags, to burst, and threaten to knock my legs.  Kicked out in front of me, for steering.  And stability, I just can't swing these arms around standing up, so I had to get creative, but with 3 wheels, and the low profile position, I'm also fast.

Not 300 MPH fast, but it took her about 6:48 minutes to suit up, talking to the tourists on top of the building, and I wonder where they're going to let her take off from?  Police headquarters downtown?  I don't care about the money, she issued a Challenge, but I better make it look good.  Braking with my heels, and standing up to plant my arms, and curl them to roll over.

Kicking out, and jumping to land on top, and clamp hard into the sides before I fall off.  Now what?  Shoot through the armored roof of the truck, or bail out the open door?


I've never had so much fun in my life!

Now, Close one eye, and reach back carefully. Peeking around the open door at the guard, raising his hand cannon to aim before the arm slams in to grab him by the trauma plate.

Good luck hitting a moving target.


Debriefing [Transcribed]

Interviewer:  "Just tell me what happened."

Driver:  "Well, sir.  We were doing a routine drop-off, and everyone ignored the pickup parked across the street.  I stopped, with it out of gear, according to proceedure while Toomby, and Harris started unloading their first trip."

Interviewer:  "How was it parked?"

Driver:  "Backed into the corner space, across the entry ramp from the Walgreens.  Isolated space.  Nobody else near it, so I kept an eye on it.  Realizing it was large enough for a small squad, but there was nobody behind the wheel, or in the cab.  Then, all of a sudden the camper top flipped off, and she got up."

Interviewer:  "She?"

Driver:  "Yes, later she identified herself as the terroist, Stunner."

Interviewer:  "Are you sure?"

Driver:  "She made sure, we knew exactly who it was, and denied the killings at the wind farm power reserve station."

Interviewer:  "All right.  Then what?"

Driver:  "I radioed to Toomby, and Williams, who were already running back.  They threw the bags in, boarded, and slammed the door.  I already had her in gear, so I could drop the clutch, and short-shift, just liked I trained to.  Now, I have to say, there's nothing in the procedures on the contingency of being attacked by a fucking robot-tank, sir.  We had to improvise.  I don't know whether it was Toomby, or Williams that dumped the change bags, but in their defense, they are low value cargo, and might have stood a pretty good chance of dislodging her.  After she ripped off the loading door, and they failed at firing for effect."

Interviewer:  "I understand that, and we'll take it into consideration once they're done giving their reports.  Just stick to what you personally witnessed, and your actions."

Driver:  "Well, after we took off down Colonades Way I looked back, and saw her in the side mirror.  She grabbed the front of an oncomming van.  I don't know if it was part of the heist, but it was at the side of a predictable route.  I was just trying to lose her.  Sir, but she practically yanked it half over the median, and I felt the jolt when the door yanked off."

Driver:  (Continues) "Jackson turned around in the seat, and reported over the radio.  The boys in back had their ears on, so he reported to them directly through the 2 way, but they weren't on speaker.  I could see the door, on the end of her robot arms, but she held it down, and planted the other arm to sit down again.  I took the next corner, before she could give persuit, but at that point I realized she can hardly stand up without the arms to brace herself, and reported it to Jackson, who radioed it back to the men while I turned right on Kildaire Farm."

Driver:  (Increasingly excited, and panting for breath)  Then, she turned the corner behind us, with the arms up, like this."  Elbows up, and hands down, he even put his legs up in the seat.  "I took evasive action, and then I saw the money bags tumble out.  Jackson radioed back "Good idea, only the change," and they continued the action until the ran out, but she swerved to evade them.  I also saw her put an arm down, several times to catch herself, and skid around.  It's amazing how manuverable she is on those leg wheels, and I saw the rubber tire on her back.  I would guess it's about 20 inch in diameter, and rounded side to side, like a donut, or a motorcycle tire, but I couldn't tell if it was kneumatic or solid core.  Later, I saw it on her back, and it's slick, without any tread.  The leg wheels too."

Interviewer:  "We've got plenty of footage coming in from bystanders on the street.  Just stick to what you saw, and how you reacted."

Driver:  "Well, sir.  I tried to shake her, but honestly, the bus is outmatched for accelleration, and manuverability.  The next thing I tried was braking hard, hoping she'd overshoot, and ram the undercarriage.  I know her legs are armored, as well as her body, but I figured it was the only offensive I had at the time.  I couldn't hit her by swerving, because she always stayed behind."

Interviewer:  "Copy that, go on."

Driver:  "Well, I didn't see it, but somehow she jumped up on the roof.  All I saw was the arms in the side mirrors.  Gripping the side-walls of the box, down to the frame.  They let go, then the 3 spikes on the end punched through the roof.  Right over our heads, like it wasn't even armored!"

Interviewer:  "Understood.  Go on."

Driver:  "Then, Jackson yelled, "They Got Bob!"  That's Robert Williams."

Interviewer:  "Copy that."

Driver:  "Then, I saw him, on the hood of the truck. She just yanked him out the back, and slammed him on the hood.  At that point, I slowed down.  Careful in case she let him go, but she just held him there until we came to a full stop.  It was my call, sir.  Jackson wasn't even in on the decision, I was just figuring that running wasn't effective, and the risk to Bobby's life took precedence over the money.  Also, if I may add that we're risking further property damage, and there was traffic on the street at that hour.  There was a lot of civilian vehicles stopped at the Tryon Road light.  About the only option might've been hopping the median into the oncomming lanes, but I had to make a call, and I take full responsibility."

Interviewer:  (Sighing sincerely)  "Well, I can't make any judgement right now.  I don't have all the particulars, but if it'll take any worry off your mind, you might have saved his life."

Driver:  "I honestly don't know what else we could have done, we didn't have any weapons that could hurt her, and I nearly got in a wreck several times just trying to shake her.  Have you heard anything about Bobby's condition?"

Interviewer:  (Also concerned)  "Last I heard, they're going in to debrief him at the ER, but he had some cracked ribs, and a concussion."

Driver:  "I'm sorry for surrendering the truck sir, but after she let him go, she ripped out the windshield like it was nothing.  That things rated to a .50 Caliber Browning."

Interviewer:  "I've read the specs."

Driver:  "I'm pretty sure she could've tore a real tank to pieces given long enough.  Jackson made the call to surrender the truck, and I support his decision.  The three of us got Bobby off the hood while she took off the armor, but we didn't do anything to provoke her.  We just dropped our weapons, and carried him to safety.  I got a pretty good look at the armor, when she took it off."

Interviewer:  "What can you tell me about it?"

Driver:  "Well, the arms go in the sides, like this.  There's a gap between the 2 front plates, which angle like this, and then the same angle curves down between her legs a ways.  It also curves around the back in a shallow cone, to either side of the back wheel.  After she pulled her real arms out the side gaps, the forearms are bare.  Completely, not even gloves on, and the upper arms are just side plates, strapped on.  She detached the wheels first.  The ones behind her boots, and then the motorcycle wheel from the back.  She just threw them in the radio side through the windshield.  Then the front piece came off the shoulders, and the robot arms went in the windshield next.  Then, a belt holding the front piece.  I think it's 1 plate, folded in half, I don't know what it's made of, but lighter then it looks.  Pretty thick, and it stopped 4 rounds of Seven Five Czech, but under it, she just had on a body suit.  Then, she just climbed on in, with the arm guards, and the leg armor, and took off the helmet inside."

Driver:  (Breaking down audibly)  "She smiled at me sir.  I don't know, she sure looked tiny, and young.  Big old blue eyes, and she waved, then she drove off down Tryon road.  I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know what more we could do.  We're lucky to be alive, and she's a nightmare.  She's bald too.  Completely bald, not a hair on her head at least.  Not even eyebrows, and I can't even close my eyes now.  I need to see the shrink, or something, I ain't never had PTSD before, but I got friends with it.  Veterans, terror war veterans that never seen shit likeat.  Can you call the shrinks?  The best one you can find."

Interviewer:  "I'll see what we can do."


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« Reply #8 on: July 19, 2018, 08:09:03 PM »

I flew around the gathering.  Mostly just a shopping center, with the parking lot cordoned off, and panel vans pulled in for a mobile command center.  Traffic blocked in the intersection, and barriers set up to hold back the gathering crowds.  

A flash-mob, what you get for announcing your intent to make an appearance on social media from the stage of a gay-bar.  I'll keep my distance, but I don't want to burn up my charge flying around.  Wind conditions calm, I start the tricky transition to upright flight by dropping my knees, and raising my angle of attack to a stall.  

Pushing down on the palm nozzles to get the boot jets under me, and straighten up.  Loosing altitude, and keeping an eye on the windspeed reading on approach.  The uniformed [SWAT] labeled officers clearing out, a large enough area, I came in carefully balancing, and throttling back to slowly settle the weight on my heels.  Relaxing, and wobbling while the intakes spooled down, I unzipped my wing panels as soon as the control/nozzles weren't blowing too hard to use my hands.

Finally, the [SWAT] team reached up to pull their hearing protection off in the receding whine.  "T T!"

"You better go press the flesh, before they riot."

"Yeah, thanks."  I unhooked my helmet, and dropped the leads in.

"I'll take that."

"Hang onto it."

"I'm right with you."

"Over here!"

"I'm your biggest fan!"

"Let me see your engines!  Up close!"

"You an engineering student?"  Securing the wing flaps, crossed over my vest, i had to bend down to unzip the middle of the leg gusset.  Rwap that around the tail pipes, so I can walk, but I can zip back in to flight configuration at a moment's notice.

"Are you going to fight the Stunner?"

"Okay, let me get something straight."

"Sign this!"

"I'm not a fighter.  I just fly reconnaissance for the task force, as necessary."

"Hold on."  The SWAT guy tapped my shoulder tube.  "Getting a report, you better suit up."

"Sorry guys."  He handed me my helmet, "Looks like I gotta fly."

"Sky One, Sky One, do you read?"

"Uh!  It's an I, not a 1."   Roll Eyes  "What is it?"

"Fetish gangs attacking downtown.  They seem to be attempting to take over Brightleaf Square."

"Is Stunner, Ms Demeaner, or Grappler with them?"

"Negative on the women.  We already have the man in custody, but there's evidence to support them working with Stunner, sir."

"Huh!"  Never gets old.  "Then cover it with the choppers, it's probably a distraction.  Over."

"Copy that.  Stay ready for the other 2."

My headset pulled out of the Velcro securing it into the helmet, I slipped the band over my hair, and put the mic next to my mouth.

"We got him."

I turned to the SWAT guy.  "Whom?  Pronoun game, could you be more specific?"

"The Grappler," Rolling his eyes, "He turned himself in.  He's got his tech with him, if you want to take a look."

"Yeah.  He under arrest?  Hang on."  Feel the broadcast button on the headphone.  "Air traffic, you there?"

"Sky Eye?"  Got it right, quickly.  

"Copy, you mentioned you had reason to believe they're working with Stunner?"  I followed the back with the [SWAT] patch across his armor.

"Well, there have been arrests, but they all have the same logo somewhere on their.  Costumes."

"Super hero costumes?"

"Sort of.  Fetishwear, latex mostly.  Predominantly yellow."

"What's the logo?"

"You have a screen on you?"

I just flip up the visor with the HUD projectors built in.  

Mirrored in the bioptic displays.  "Oh, ha!  No, that's just a caution sticker."  Danger, Electrical Hazard.

"They're all armed with Tazer weapons, too.  Appear to be all Tazer International brand."  Just the sort of thing a leader in sub-lethal weapons wants to have associated with them.  Terror attacks by a sadomasochistic fetish gang.

"Hey," he got up.  Underneath the portable pyramid canopy, standing up on legs stuck in 5 gallon buckets of cement.  In a green trench coat, with the sleeves unzipped, and pipes strapped on under them.  Looks like cable releases hanging with toggles on the ends.  "T T, right?"

"The Grappler?"  I assume.  "My callsign is Sky I, now."

"Well, I'm not officially part of the Task Force yet, but at least I'm not under arrest, either."

"Not yet."  My SWAT guy came back, with a paper cup.  Full of gatorade.  


"Well, you weren't there, but I already explained that.  She forced me to cooperate!"  he looked like he was going to cry.  "Ngh, she would have electrocuted me, where I was standing, if I didn't do as she said."

"Stunner?"  I squinted, "Wait a sec, why do you look so familiar?"

"This is Jason Gagnon, the Stunner's first victim."

"We know of."

"No.  Ms. Demeaner.  Stunner's Mother."

"Uh!"  I blinked.  

He laughed.  "Hah, I know.  There's a shocker!"

I had to laugh, too.

"Now you really have to suit up."  

"Skyeye, you there?"


"You're right, it was a distraction."  Already carefully fitting my helmet on.  "One of them is attacking an armored car at a bank in Cary."

"Where in Cary?"  Unhooking the zippers from my legs to pull them down the swallowtail gusset.

"Kildaire, and Tryon Roads.  Over."

"I'll be on route ASAP."  Finally, it came up on my minimap.  So, I trackballed on my right control nozzle, and started unhooking my wing panels.  Checking my charge, I knew I shouldn't have flown around so much before coming in for a landing, and "It's going to take time to gain altitude.  Over."

"Understood, just hurry."

« Last Edit: July 19, 2018, 08:44:37 PM by psiberzerker » Logged

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Freakishly Strange

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« Reply #9 on: July 19, 2018, 08:57:10 PM »

Note, this was just Origin Stories.  Also, rather than cut, and paste the first episodes here, I'll just link to prototypical background on Another Site.  Kind of wore out my welcome there, so you guys can help me make it up to Lois by going and supporting them, if you don't already.

That out of the way, if you'd rather I concentrate on my Avengers fanfic, I can.  This one's a little more rooted in reality, at least as far as technological limits, and physics are concerned.  That's why we have the 1 human flight expert talking about charge, gaining altitude, and wearing Nothing underneath her flight suit. (Also, for marketing, sex sells.  Especially in this market.)  Much less extra equipment like an aeormetric probe outside her slipstream to get accurate airspeed, and pressure data from, let alone any weapons. 

It's just barely possible.  Theoretically, with the caveat that I'm a robotics tech, not an aeronautical engineer.  I've never actually designed a flight pack to the prototype stage, about the closest I could get was a powered rogallo-wing engine.  That failed.  (Otherwise, Id be flying it around, and hopefully making money off of it.)

I'm just saying, don't expect to see anything too fantastic, like glowing eyes, and shooting energy beams from biological tissue.

This isn't that universe, but it wouldn't take much convincing at all for me to go back, and most likely insert Superia into my Black Widow Fanfic.  I'll let you all decide...

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« Reply #10 on: September 14, 2018, 08:20:21 PM »

I wrote a Prequel to go along with the Sequel.  Stay tuned for the next installment, this is becoming a bit of a series...

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