“Now for this scene I want you to be really frightened, I want you to show how beaten down you are. You have struggled and struggled but you cannot escape the Womanbreaker! He has captured you, taken your clothes, bound you and is now having fun with your deliciously helpless body. Do you understand?’
Mia Travis nodded, hate filling her eyes. She was nude, her arms trapped behind her in a latex yellow arm sheath that seemed custom made for her. Her large, dark breasts were thrust into the eager director´s smiling, face. A large yellow ball gag filled her mouth, causing drool to drip all over her big, sweaty breasts.
Mia had been run all over the underground set by the so-called “Womanbreaker,’ a massive idiot wearing leather pants ten sizes too small. She wore nothing but the arm sheath, ball gag, and a new golden ring in sex.
The director pulled on the ring, causing the 5´4 Mia to stand on her toes.
“I don´t like that look in your eye Mia,’ he said in a low, dangerous voice. “I need you to be professional, or else I might get angry. You know what I do when I get angry, don´t you, Mia?’
She looked into his brown eyes and shrank before him; she nodded and hoped the right amount of fear was now showing in her eyes.
“Good!’ he exclaimed, then began ordering everyone into their positions. Mia struggled to get comfortable and prepare herself for the scene. She had been wearing the arm sheath and ball gag for six hours, with only three short breaks. But she was in no position to complain, because despite being the star of the show, she held no power on the set.
“Action!’ the director roared, and Mia fled before the hulking Womanbreaker, her big glistening breasts bouncing.
An assistant walked up behind the director, whispering that his expected guests were arriving. With a sigh, he tore himself away from the sight of the buxom Mia fleeing the Womanbreaker and walked offset, to his office on the floor above.
Waiting for him were a collection of strange individuals. One was a handsome South American man wearing an expensive suit and a cheesy grin. Next to him was a man whose ordinariness was striking in a way. Then came two young, nasty looking women dressed as nuns, they grinned mockingly at him as he entered. Last was a burly, bearded Eastern European whose cold grey eyes made the director a little uncomfortable.
“Welcome, I was just shooting “Womanbreaker 5’ with my new star Mia Travis; she is one of the first ones we pulled off the street and actually made something out of,’ he said, beginning to laugh but the effort died as he looked into the faces of his guests. “Well I´m Michael Pace, the head of Studio Q productions, and I called you hear because we face significant problem. Now I don´t need to explain what needs to be done to you, I sent files along with down payments to all of you. I just wanted to make clear that I want all targets alive and with as little harm as possible. You are all professionals so I apologize if this seems insulting, but I feel that this could be a watershed moment for Studio Q, and stars of the caliber that I want you to acquire will get this enterprise anywhere it wants to go. So do you have any questions?’
The men and women said nothing, merely gazing at him. He nodded.
“Well, you all have your assignments, so get started because the sooner this ends the better off everyone will be. You are all welcome to stay and watch movie magic at work!’
The hired guns filed out, not one saying a word. The meeting hadn´t been necessary, but Michael wanted to get a look at what he was paying for; he was not the type of man to just take someone´s word on a product. Overall he was satisfied; he couldn´t wait until they started delivering.
He had always dreamed of having the 7th Street Angel as a one of his actresses. Now he was days away from that being a reality. If she died, well he would be disappointed, but one way or another she would be out of his way. The same thing with the cops, they thought they were the hunters, but they had just become the prey.
The best part, Michael thought as he got up to return to the set, was that there was no one to stop him. Whistling to himself, he knew that you couldn´t stop what you didn´t see coming. He and his brother were about to become legends.
Helena West sighed heavily as she looked at the woman waiting in her lobby. She was a private investigator, and she loved taking cases that put her in the center of the action, and also allowed her to help other women.
But messing with a case that was still fresh to the police was something that she did not like. Police attention was something she worked to avoid; they would not view her with friendly eyes. So that was why the person waiting to come in her office made her feel so conflicted.
The woman was Mrs. Audrey Leigh, mother of the missing Kara Leigh. She had been all over the news; hoping to generate some lead by being constantly on camera and offering large amounts of money. But so far nothing worked and the police and media were now shifting their attention to the sensational return of the 7th Street Angel.
Helena got up, and began walking to the door without any plan in mind. As she opened the door, she decided to hear the woman out and then go from there.
“Mrs. Leigh, sorry to keep you waiting, please come in,’ Helena said, flashing her best professional smile.
Mrs. Leigh nodded and stood. Well, she is as impressive as her daughter, Helena thought. Mrs. Leigh was about 5´10, with long smooth muscles and golden blonde hair. Her blue eyes were beautiful, the lack of sleep and the toll of worry only enhancing her natural looks. Her large breasts bounced in her loose white blouse.
Mrs. Leigh in turn studied the private investigator that everyone said was leagues above the others, and even gave the best of the police a run for their money. Helen stood 5´6, with jet black hair and vivid blue eyes that could bewitch any man or woman that looked too long in them. Her body seemed to be perfect to Mrs. Leigh, full breasts, great athletic condition, and strong full limbs. Mrs. Leigh saw nothing wrong with the young woman. She wore a white blouse with a dress coat and an incredibly short skirt, revealing tan, perfect legs.
“I was expecting someone older and far less attractive,’ Mrs. Leigh said, as she took a seat across from Helena. “You certainly don´t look like a PI.’
“I hear that all the time,’ Helena said, smiling. “My father says that I should take it as a hint, but I prefer to judge my career by the results and how I feel in the morning, don´t you agree?’
Mrs. Leigh nodded, the friendly smile on her face cracking slowly, and then the woman dissolved into tears.
Helena frantically searched for tissues, but had none in her office. Finally Mrs. Leigh pulled a small pack of tissues from her purse and began wiping her face.
“I´m sorry,’ she said. “It´s just that my daughter is about your age, and she is so talented and tough, I was just thinking that you two would get along so well.’
Helena sat still, not sure what to do. She already knew that she was going to take the case, but she tried to deny it. In her head she was listing reasons that taking the case would be a terrible idea. But the thought of this poor woman never knowing what happened to her daughter was more that Helena could bear.
“I have seen you on the news,’ Helena said. “I would love to help you, but I don´t know what I could do that the police haven´t.’
“The police!’ Mrs. Leigh sneered, hate filling her voice. “They were incompetent. The minute I told them that Kara and I had an argument over her choice to try to join the FBI; they treated the case like she was a teenager that ran away from home. She´s 27 for Christ´s sake!’
“Okay,’ Helena said in a low voice, hoping to sooth the distraught woman. “I need something to go on, anything would help.’
“That man that died last night, Oscar something?’ Mrs. Leigh said. “Well I got someone at the police station that says a woman came in and said she saw him near an area where a few prostitutes have disappeared over the last six months. The cops, being idiots, filled it away and no one is looking into it, so I came to you.’
Helena leaned back in her chair and silently contemplated how to approach this. She would be taking on a case bigger than any she had ever faced before, but she was sure she could handle it.
“Okay, you get me the name and address of the woman who visited the police, and I will get to work.’
Mrs. Leigh grinned as she dug back into her purse. She pulled out a notebook and handed it to Helena.
“That´s all the information that I have gotten through my secret source. Also I want you to know that I will pay double all your fees. Just please find my daughter, she is the most important person in the world to me.’
Helena nodded, and then escorted Mrs. Leigh out of the office. When she returned to her desk, she dove into the notebook, determined to not let Mrs. Leigh or her daughter Kara down.
“So a big fat day of nothing so far,’ Rachel McQueen said.
Her partner Marcus Funangi nodded, focusing on the road that would take him to Oscar West´s apartment. So far every lead was another dead end, Oscar and his dead friends seemed to have specialized in being nobodies. None of the evidence brought them any leads, and Oscar´s apartment was the last stop of a frustrating day.
“Whatever he was a part of, it was big league stuff,’ Marcus said, as they pulled into the parking lot of Oscar´s apartment complex.
Rachel grunted something unpleasant as she got out. Marcus fought down a smile. For someone so overwhelmingly beautiful, Rachel had the worst mean streak of any person he ever met.
It was not like anyone doubted her ability. She came from a long line of talented gunslingers, competition champions and US marshals. But she always walked around with a chip on her shoulder.
The two entered the complex building and headed upstairs to 10d, Oscar´s apartment. Marcus split time between surveying the building and watching Rachel´s amazing ass sway in the snug slacks she wore. The reached the door, where the super of the building was waiting for them he was short balding man of about 40.
“Officers,’ he said, grinning. Marcus noted that he did not seem to notice him, he spoke only to Rachel. “Oscar was a good tenant, always paid on time, no complaints, and good guy.’
“I´m sure he was just great,’ Rachel said, not looking at man. “If we need you we will call you.’
With that she entered the apartment, a grinning Marcus following her. Marcus heard him mutter bitch before he shut the door.
“Your people skills are improving,’ Marcus said.
“Bite me, Markey,’ she retorted.
The apartment was neat and well cared for. Nothing jumped out as the two officers searched the place.
“This is pointless, he wouldn´t leave anything here,’ Rachel said.
“You never know with criminals,’ Marcus said, even though he secretly agreed. Whoever these guys were, they were pros.
“I´ll go check the bedroom,’ he said, as Rachel searched the kitchen.
He opened the bedroom door, and was greeted with a similarly neat room, with one difference.
Kneeling beside the bed was the 7th Street Angel.
Marcus froze, but the Angel didn´t. She slammed one boot into his chest, launching him down the hall. Rachel yelled his name and came charging out of the kitchen with her weapon drawn.
“Freeze!’ she yelled. The Angel was framed in the doorway for a few moments, and then retreated into the bedroom. Rachel went in after her.
Bullets shattered the doorframe as Rachel pulled up short. She blindly returned fire, but knew she had no chance of hitting the Angel. She waited a few moments to be sure it was safe, and then peeked into the bedroom.
The Angel was gone, out an open window. Rachel raced to the window, gun drawn, but saw nothing that would give her a clue as to wear the Angel went. With a frustrated sigh, she returned to check on her partner.
Marcus was pulling himself up when she reached him.
“Psycho kicks like a mule,’ he said.
“You all right?’ Rachel asked.
“I´m cool,’ he answered. “Let´s get forensics in here and maybe we´ll finally get something on the Angel.’
Rachel nodded, holstering her gun. She had no hope that anything would come out of this. She cursed herself, a few feet away from the 7th Street Angel and she couldn´t close the deal.
Marcus was saying something, but Rachel never heard it as the front of the apartment exploded in a roar of fire. Both officers were flung like discarded toys across the living room.
Into the rubble stepped two heavily armed women, dressed as nuns. One was tall; ebony skinned with a hard angular face, the other was an angelic blonde with a petite stature.
“Grab the blonde,’ the smaller nun said. “The police will be here any minute.’
The large black woman nodded, scooping up Rachel and throwing her over her shoulder. The little blonde smacked Rachel´s ass as the two warrior nuns and their captive left the ruins of the apartment.
“This is going to be a fun job,’ the black woman said, answered by a giggle from her little friend.
The 7th Street Angel effortlessly scaled the rooftops as she fled Oscar West´s apartment. She should have expected the police, but investigating was new to her, she was used to meting out justice, not finding criminals. She was about 3 blocks away from the apartment when she stopped to rest.
She had found nothing, no evidence to lead her to Oscar´s employers. This investigation was not helped by her lack of patience. She stood there for a few moments, not sure what to do, when she heard a faint boom in the direction of Oscar´s apartment.
She was about to head back for a look to see what happened when a silky rope curled around her right ankle and jerked her off her feet. She drew her guns and trained them in the direction of her attacker, only the both wrists caught by one rope and her guns jerked from her hands by another.
“Don´t worry about the bomb, my angel,’ said the man, clad in a black bodysuit, his bulging manhood noticeable in the tight costume. “You have your own problems.’