Urban Legends 0.01

You should read The Park 0.1 before this.

The thunder of a high caliber pistol filled the air, round after round announcing its presence with their roars. The massive bullets tore into a brick wall, exploding chunks of red debris outward as they left shattered craters or outright holes in their wake; but after nine barks, the gun fell silent.

“Fuck me!” A greasy-haired man in a canvas trenchcoat dropped the empty revolver to the floor of the gas station convenience store, turning now to run from the target of his previous aggression. But he does not make his exit under his own power – instead he finds himself sailing through the air, his face shattering the glass as he falls with a wet scream onto the hard asphalt

Breathing through his shattered nose and clawing shards of glass from his bloodied face – he scrambles to his knees only to feel the toe of a boot press into his back.

“Be a nice boy, and wait for the cops. Don’t make me have to come back.” The sneer is audible in the Goddess’s voice as she towers above him with her hands resting at her hips as she presses her boot ever more sharply into his back to emphasize her point.

And with that – she is gone, and the beaten criminal waits in a daze in a filthy puddle of rain discolored by motor oils and his own blood as distant sirens approach.

***

The loud metallic screech and rattle of a passing City-Rail elevated train fills the small apartment, the light from its carriages casting their glow in through open windows against a stained wall badly in need of fresh paint and plasterwork. A lonely yellow bulb casts a wan glow over the single room apartment – illuminating a cramped space occupied by a bit of counter top and kitchen appliances against one wall, a surprisingly large and comfortable bed against the other and a simple round table and chairs in the space between.

There is no one here, only an empty room.

Then, there is a soft rattling sound – barely distinguishable against the noise of the passing train – and one of the windows jiggles open as a dark figure on the fire escape outside lifts it gingerly. And then she slides in, one wedge-heeled boot at a time, and then lifting her torso through in a single motion using only the strength of her hips and abdomen – ripples of light sliding over the liquid sheen of her leotard and boots.

“Another fucking worthless punk with a gun. Why does it feel like it gets worse every night?” The tall dark-haired woman mutters to herself as she chucks off the unbuttoned trench coat still hanging around her shoulders, and begins a slow – almost sensuous – process of disrobing.

As she slides off first one thigh high boot, and then the other off her long legs – the plasticky leatherette and vinyl composite collapses onto the floor atop the solidity of the heavy wedge heels. Now barefoot, she pads silently to the far wall and flips off the light – letting the neon glow of the signs outside fill her little apartment with their bright clashing colors as the train at last rattles into the distance.

There, in the layered shadows and neon rays – she opens a door that leads into a miniscule bathroom, and with a metal squeak, the sound of water spraying can be heard. She resumes disrobing then, tugging at her arms, she pulls free her long gloves – letting them fall onto the floor with the boots. At last, she tugs gently at the front of her bustier – which so improbably remains affixed to her torso, as if glued there. With a few pulls of hidden catches, something seems to come free – and she plucks again into the deep valley of her own cleavage, pulling the dark armored chest cups forward. There is a soft pop, and they come away from her chest, her cleavage settling naturally into a more natural shape against her chest – through still stupendously firm and impossibly perky against her toned torso.

And at last she is nude, and slips into the hot shower with a relieved sigh – and never seems to notice the shadowy figure on the fire escape outside, peering in.

***

“Late night Captain.” The Goddess’s voice has depth and richness – not girly at all, but neither masculine-sounding – as she alights on the ceiling with a muffled grunt.

A gravely-voiced man, unremarkable in height or build with tousled brown hair and a disheveled beard clad in a detective’s uniform and coat turns to face the dark woman as she arrives. “You know I don’t like your methods. But we’ve got a new meta-convict loose. Out-of-towner. He’s fast. Faster than you, faster than Shanks too it turns out. And stronger than him at least. Put Shanks through a wall. He’s fast but not tough enough to take that. So I’ve got my go-to guy in a critical ward at Sea-Heart’s and a super lunatic loose in the meanwhile.”

She smirks down at him – her height a clear advantage. “I’ll take care of it. But I can’t promise to hold back if he’s playing for keeps.” She pauses. “You know I don’t like hurting them…or worse.”

The captain frowns and fishes a cigarette from a crumpled packet in his coat pocket. “Yeah, but you leave a lot of broken men behind you. Lieutenant Estevez bet that he could track you down by finding all the guys with broken pelvises checking themselves in at Sea-Heart for treatment who say they ‘fell down some stairs’. But detective Maria had a good counter argument to that one.” He chuckles drily and lights his cigarette, taking a long drag from it as he sweeps a bored gaze past his rooftop counterpart to the city behind her.

“Don’t leave me hanging. What was this amazing counter argument for me shattering my lovers’ pelvises?” Her tone is unreadable – one step away from either anger or humor.

“You could be a rug-muncher. Or a bottom.” His response is dry, as if he’s talking about laundry.

She’s about to respond when the radio at his hip squawks, and he pulls it to his face with urgency – conversing with someone on the other end in a rapid exchange before looking up at her again.

“He’s at Sea-Heart. I think he’s trying to get to Shanks. You have to…” The captain never gets to finish as the woman called the Goddess turns and sprints to the edge of the roof – and leaps in a single bound to a neighboring building, and then another after that.

The captain’s gaze can’t help but follow the well shaped contours of her ass as she fades into the distance.

***

The Sea-Heart Hospital – a decrepit gothic monstrosity set hard against the seaside, jammed between the heart of the city and the waves – is the City-by-the-Sea’s main hospital, a place perpetually struggling with the pall of suffering and violence that has hung over the city as long as anyone can remember.

Now the city’s sins have come to it’s very doorstep – where an array of police cruisers form a semi circle in front of the main doors, and cops crouch behind them, popping up to try and take shots at the figure darting about at astonishing speeds slowly picking them off one by one. Ambulances lay on their sides or driven off the road – discarded like trash – and the normally busy drive up the hospital is an abandoned warzone.

A man in a blue tracksuit – with a dirty white stripe down his left side and a shock of exposed blonde hair sticking up past his white hockey mask – is the heart of the disaster, laughing with a kind of maniacal high pitched whine as he avoids their attempts to gun him down with apparent ease.

“Ha, ha, hahaha! I own this city now! It’s just me and that crazy bitch – and I know you boys in blue don’t love her! Maybe worth making a call now though? Ha, hahahahahaha! Because I think your ace in the hole is about to just be…in a hole!” He ducks around the back of a police cruiser, and a panicking rookie finds himself held up in the air by his shirt – his gun knocked aside like a toy – struggling futilely to break away from the unnaturally strong grip of the blonde masked man.

“They did call.” A woman’s voice cuts through the sounds of the policeman’s struggle, and a fast moving black-clad fist almost catches the blond man in the back – but he is too fast, and drops the policeman and darts to the side at the last possible moment. The Goddess’s fist strikes the cruiser instead – the impact hitting the door so hard that it leaves both a head-sized dent and shatters the window above.

“Oh shit, honey you’re no slouch! But gotta move fas…” The blonde runner’s comeback is cut short by a second fist catching him in the abdomen, knocking the air out of his lungs and smashing him back against the police cruiser. He doesn’t have time to react, as she’s already got another fist coming. But it is she who is interrupted now, as she finds herself screaming in pain as sparks leap from her back and the momentary flash of a pulse of electricity lights the night.

“Fuck, you took your time showing up!” The blonde man calls out to a red-haired and red-suited man standing behind the Goddess, holding a large taser-like device as she falls to her knees in pain.

“Fuck off. You got her where I wanted her. Now go deal with the cops.” The red man’s response is dismissive, and oddly – the blonde runner has no quip in response, and simply returns to handling the remaining police.

“Now bitch, you’re mine.” The red man grabs the woman by the arm and pulls her to her feet, dragging her stumbling behind him as she seems disoriented and weak – she is taller than him, especially in her heels, but he seems to manage her in this state with ease. Pulling her in through the ambulance entrance to the evacuated emergency ward – he kicks open the door to an examination room and pulls the Goddess with him.

“Fuck you’re heavy. Wasn’t expecting to get a work out on my vacation!” He laughs at some inside joke, and pushes her onto the hospital bed in the room. She falls onto it face first, bending over it at the waist, her heels still on the floor as he comes up behind her.

“Huhhhnnng. Wha…did you hit me with?” Her voice is slurred as if drunk, and she starts to move a little, but seems unable to stand up straight, barely able to lift her head a little from the bed.

“Fuck, you’re a tough whore. This thing is supposed to bowl you right over. Quite a light show to boot! Now shut up and let daddy have a taste.” The red man reaches out for where her leotard wraps over her ass – not quite a thong, nor fully covering the firm fleshy moons of her rear – and with a strong tug, showing off either significant strength or surprising fragility in the garment, tears it open completely.

The Goddess grunts with surprise as she seems to realize what he has done – “No! What are you doing! Get off me!” But it is too late, and with grunt and single forceful jerk – the red man has buried his unimpressively average penis fully into her, bottoming out in a single stroke.

“Huh yeah. That’s the stuff. God you’re tight. And shit, I knew it…but this super hero shit really does get your motor running doesn’t it? You’re ready to go.”

He begins to saw his penis in and out of her – when, without warning he is struck from behind, with what appears to be a bedpan, the metallic clang ringing out like a bell as it impacts his skull squarely. Slumping suddenly, he falls to the floor, his penis flopping about wetly as he does so.

The Goddess manages to stand, a thin stream of moisture leaking down the inside of her thigh from her exposed sex – her eyes still a bit unfocused as she sees a normal seeming man, a simple bald civilian standing near, holding a bedpan in his hands and smiling.

“Hope I was able to help! I’m a big fan. Big fan of your work. Keeping the city safe and all that you know!” There’s something almost corny about his tone, as if he were a playing out a role rather than an unarmed civilian in a dangerous situation.

“What? I…didn’t…know I had any fans.” The tall woman is even taller than this bald fellow, and she has to lower her gaze to his – to find his eyes firmly affixed to her chest.

“Oh yeah, you’ve got tons. You okay there? You look a little….flustered. Can I help?” He smiles, and she can’t seem to help herself but to grin slightly back at what she can only perceive as a kind of boyish charm – though he appears to be a middle aged man, who is currently speaking directly to her cleavage instead of meeting her gaze.

“Help? No, you’ve helped plenty. You should find somewhere safe while I deal with this one and his running friend outside. I’m sure there’s somewhere safe to…uhh!” She’s interrupted when the bald man promptly sticks a finger inside her exposed and moist vagina, and begins to work a second one in soon after as if he’s discovered a new toy to play with.

“Uhhhh, what? Please….you need to gooooo…” Her blue, starlit eyes roll up with pleasure as a tremor spasms through her body, and it is the bald man who speaks next.

“Nah, I like it here. Safest with you right? Also, looks like I found a way to help! You’re all worked up from that creep, you won’t be able to focus on being a hero like this, I’ll get your head cleared up right away!” His tone remains comically corny now – bright and utterly unbothered, as if he were in a child’s story rather than a city where you can be killed for your shoes in the wrong neighborhood – or flattened by a rampaging meta-criminal drunk on his own power.

He continues to finger her for a few minutes, but seemingly keeps her on the edge rather giving her another tremor of pleasure – until he lifts his other hand and wraps it around the back of her head, tugging her face down to his. They kiss then, wetly – and she doesn’t know why. She feels strangely obligated to this would be civilian savior, and though she has brought herself pleasure before – he has a strange magic to his fingers that is driving her to the edge in a way she’s never managed herself. So she happily gives him her lips, and when he presses his tongue forward, she lets him tongue-fuck her mouth to his heart’s desire, until it seems he needs a breath, and at last releases her.

“Fuck that was hot shit! God that felt good. Can I see ’em?” The objects of his desire are obvious, his gaze once again firmly locked on her chest, and he doesn’t wait for a response – seemingly expecting the assent that is about to tumble from her lips before she can even give it. His free hand grabs at her cleavage, and tugs – and it gives way with ease, flopping forward to expose the thick, hardened eraser-head nubs of her nipples to the cool harbor air flowing in from the emergency ward outside.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, and is soon suckling happily like a giant bald babe at her tit, his tongue playing with her nipple and his lips leaving a wet slobbery trail as he works his mouth over her flesh as if were trying to suck the entire massive breast into his mouth at once.

“Uhhhnnngh! How are you…so good? Oh god, I’m cumming from getting my….tits suckkkkeeed…” A momentary darkness passes through her mind as she shakes with another tremor, her breasts rippling with it as it passes from them down to where he still has two fingers buried deep in her cunt, though they are doing little more than idly twisting around inside her now.

With a wet pop, he releases his liplock on her breast and grins up at her toothily. “Guess I’m just that good huh? Making the big superheroine lady cum all over my fingers! Man this is a real pick me up, even though I know it’s all bullshit!”

The Goddess blinks blearily down at him, her gaze unfocused in the wake of recent orgasms and the attack before that – and tries to comprehend what he is saying, but he is already pulling his fingers out of her and pushing her to lay back on the hospital bed, tugging her legs up onto it as he begins to shuck his own clothes off entirely.

She protests weakly as he climbs up onto the surprisingly roomy bed and spreads her legs with ease, drawing himself up between them as he strokes his own cock to full mast. “I’m sorry, this is dangerous…you’re…very good, but I have no time…” She trails off as he presses a finger to her lips and silences her as he leans forward over her torso and presses the bulbous head of his cock against her now messily wet pussy.

“Plenty of time for a good time. Right? Now be quiet and let me enjoy the ride.” And surprisingly, she finds herself speaking no more – just offering quiet and energetic moans as for the second time in an evening she is mounted, though she thinks this time with her consent? And he begins to rut against her, sliding his cock in and out as his hands settle on her chest, gripping her tits far too tightly – but again, she cannot but find it is just right.

The hospital bed rocks with their combined weight – but she is little more than a passive participant, a pliant cocksleeve and set of tits for him to penetrate and fondle as he works himself to completion. His face clouds over with focus and a certain tightened expression as he clearly attempts to extend this moment, and some mischievous part of her finds sudden freedom to act. She ripples her strong pelvic muscles around his shaft to draw him deeper in and induce him over his cliff, and resist his attempts to draw out and slow down his own pleasure.

And indeed it is too much for him, his eyes popping open as he makes a weak squealing, grunting noise of surprise at her as she finds herself grinning snarkily back up at his naked rutting form. Then it is there – she feels the warm pulse of his seed draining deep inside her as she lifts her strong legs around his back to hold him in place as he shakes with the pleasure of his release.

***

The Goddess makes it back to her little apartment in time – the new red-suited villain and the other running one well and truly pulverized into submission, a makeshift patch and the general paucity of witnesses concealing the damage to her outfit’s bottom as she did so and then made her stealthy retreat.

Clambering into a hot shower, she feels the bald man’s seed leaking from her a little still – she could feel it drying on the insides of her thighs even as she had bounced the running man’s head off the front of a truck, and had been able to do little about it at the time. But here in her little shower as she cleans herself, her mind is a wash of confusion – it is as if she were not herself, as if suddenly his pleasure had been her paramount concern, when no previous lover had mattered so.

Stepping back out into the center of her apartment and reaching for a towel to dry herself there – the neon lights from outside playing across the smooth planes and firm contours of her sculpted body – her mind can only turn in circles, chewing at the problem.

***

“Hot damn you missed out! I can’t believe you were in that fucking casino the entire time!” The bald man exclaims as he picks up his coffee from an unsmiling barista at the airport cafe.

His counterpart, clad in a sleek gray suit and wearing a small hat that has become all the style for businessmen of repute in recent years, is slow to respond, grinning the whole time at the bald man. “You can’t fuck the hot waitresses at a real casino. And the house always wins there. I got to play strip poker with the the kind of woman who’d have either ignored me or destroyed me at poker out here. In there I owned her god damn world.”

“Who gives a shit about a waitress or some rando’ bitch at a casino? I fucked a god damn superhero!” The bald man speaks a bit too loudly in his excitement, and a few passerby give him an odd stare as the two make their way to their gate, bland announcements sounding in the background.

“That’s every stupid basement dweller’s wet dream.” The red-haired man pauses. “No offense. But it’ll get old fast. It’s not like she can say no.”

The bald man shrugs, his navy blue jacket shifting around his shoulders as he does so. “Ahh, fuck off. Wait, she can’t say no? What if I want her to? I swear I thought that guy in red was you when he hauled her in to rape her. Took me a second to realize that was my cue.”