Barton City Nights (Closed except for Killingmoon and myself)

[Studio PC]

OOC: Superhero Porn. Sex that could topple entire buildings. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Just sit back and let us do the driving . . .

IC:
Barton City, 3am

" . . . and police remain closemouthed about the explosion at the DaiNai chemical production plant. A spokesman for the police commisioner said that the cause appeared to be equipment failure. However, unamed witnesses have told this reporter that the explosion was caused by Barton's own mystery vigilante, Catman, who was fighting with a woman in black leather and clown makeup."

The sound of the radio drifted out the open window and into the night air. Summer nights in Barton were always stifling, and tonight was no exception.

On the roof of the apartment building, a man crouched. He was of average height and build. He wore black canvas pants, a dark, long sleeved shirt, and a mask.

At one point, the mask had been a ski mask, but someone had altered it, adding bits of metal to fashion it into a catlike face. His eyes were visible, dark green, something hungry lurking in their depths. His feet were covered by boots and he wore gloves.

His thoughts were on the chemical plant. He really had no idea who the hell the woman was or why she'd broken into DaiNai. They were a makup manufacturer for Pete's sake!

He tapped a finger on his knee and then leapt into space, easily clearing the width of the street and vanishing into the shadows of the rooftop across the way.

 

[Killingmoon]

The woman in black landed silently on the stone balcony high above the city. Pushing open the double french doors she stormed into the penthouse, peeling off the elbow high gloves as she headed towards the bathroom.

Peeling off the skintight leather catsuit she stood nearly stark naked before the mirror, the white cake make-up was a stark contrast against her natural sunkissed complexion. The over exagerrated red lips and eye makeup made her look rather clownish....of course that had been the original idea-taken from the comic book villians of her youth....now it seemed rather ridiculous.

She turned on the water, steaming hot and scrubbed the thick mess off her face vigorously, letting the hot water now white and red and green run down her arms.

Once she was clean she unbraided the thick dark braid, letting her long soft loose curls hang free and unbound, spilling nearly to her waist.

She emerged from the bathroom and slipped into a black silk kimono her father had sent her from Japan a week before he died....

She sprawled out on the leather sofa and flipped open the small silver cellular phone.

"Mr. Black, I need a copy of the DaiNai securty tapes for this evening...you know not to question....what I want I get. Yes...by breakfast, very good." Click.

 

[Studio PC]

The bar lay on the worst street in the worst section of town. City Maps reffered to it as Peters Street, but the locals had another name it; "Hell Street".

The bar had once been named McKay's, and most still called it that. It was a dilapated wooden building, two stories tall and badly in need of a paint job . . . or perhaps a wrecking ball.

It had been Mick's place. Good old Mick. Never a bad word to say about anyone . . . unless they deserved it of course. Everyone liked him. He sold booze for cheap, after all.

Still, someone must have taken a dislike to him. Four years ago, he'd been found by the delivery man on the floor, most of his chest gone, courtesy of a shotgun blast at point blank range.

No one knew who'd done it, but they were pretty sure it hadn't been Kevin.

Kevin had been Mick's son, though not by blood. Mick had brought him back from some outing. A two year old boy as feral as any alleycat and twice as vicious.

"Man needs a legacy," Mick would say when asked why he was attempting to civilize what could charitably be called a monster. "An heir to his empire."

Somehow, he'd managed to mold his son into something human. Old timers often chuckled at seeing Mick go by on his old Harley, Kevin perched on the seat behind him, colorful old backpack on his back, hands gripping the older man's leather vest or jacket.

As the years came and went, Kevin gained civilty, learned to read and write and tend a bar. All, in Mick's view, important skills.

And yet, Kevin's high school diploma, stained with Mick's own tears of joy, hung behind the bar, just over a light up sign for a popular beer.

Kevin himself was lean, with green eyes and brownish blond hair cut short. He moved purposefully, with a certain catlike grace that was as fascinating to watch as it was unconiuous.

Amazingly, not one person suspected that in Kevin's small apartment over the bar, in a secret closet compartment, Catman's costume lay, waiting for night to fall once more . . .

 

[Killingmoon]

She awoke snuggled beneath black satin sheets, the room was still dark save for the bit of light that managed to drift under the heavy black draperies.
She sat up and looked to her right, the man that lay there was blindfolded and gagged, bound at the hands and feet.
She ran her long slender fingers over his naked form and realized he was cool to the touch. Not typical corpse cold, but definately recently dead.

With a sigh of disgust she pushed him off the edge and let him land with a soft THUD on the lush plush carpeting.


She turned to her left, where the dead man's girlfriend lay shivering, crying through her own gag and blindfold. The girl's rosy nipples were hard and pointed skyward begging to be teased and suckled. She leaned over and caressed the girl as if they had been longtime lovers, taking one of her small supple breasts in her mouth and rolling it with her tongue, savoring it as her hand moved south past the freshly shaved patch and into her warm slit.
The girl shivered with both pleasure and anguish as her fingers worked harder and faster, until the girl's dripping wetness soiled the sheets.

But she soon grew bored of this game and stopped abruptly despite the girl's pleas. She rose from the bed, wrapped herself in the black kimono, and after licking her fingers clean she leaned in for one last kiss...
"You don't want a girl like me, precious..." she purred, lingering just inches from the girl's ear, "....I'm poison."
She pulled the ball gag out and their full lips met, tongues entwined...but again she pushed the girl away and pulled out her small silver phone.

"Mr. Black, I have two more for you...both dead-" in the background the girl cried out, and exhaled her last breath, "and thank you for getting me what I asked for. I'll be in my study, I expect that they will be gone by the time I return."
Click.

Then with tape in hand Ms. Belladonna Rosellini headed into the study....

 

[Killingmoon]

oops

 

[Studio PC]

"Kevin! Give us another, won't ya?"

With smooth, practiced motion, Kevin jerked the bottle from the cooler, snatched the opener off his belt and popped the top off the bottle before sliding it down the bartop to the patron and rehanging the opener on his belt.

The bar was mostly empty. Many of Hell Street's residents preffered to drink their breakfast and lunches, so McKay's was never empty.

And like his Father, Kevin liked an orderly bar and the prostitutes liked to be safe. So a few women sat along the walls. All in all, nice and peaceful.

He nodded to himself and pulled the remote from his back pocket. Aiming it at the old TV, he flipped it on and channel hopped until he came to the news.

"And DA Marvin Bent, in what many are calling a bid for the mayor's office, today called on Federal and State Authorities for what he calls 'An end to Barton's lawlessness'. Although the details aren't known, rumor has it that Bent is envisioning nothing more or less then a lockdown of the city, followed by a house to house sweep in search of both Catman, and some of Barton's more notorious criminals." The screen cut to Bent, a, handsome man in his early forties.

"What I envison," he said in his deep bass voice, "is a cleansing. A chance to make Barton safe and secure once more. As your District Attorney, I promised to do whatver it takes to establish law and order in this town. Catman must present himself to the police, he must give himself up. His motives are laudable, but vigilantisim is never the right course."

Back to the anchor. "Critics have already spoken out on Bent's scheme, citing the money, manpower, and risk of lives."

"Put on the game!" someone cried.

Kevin flipped on the game and put the remote away.

This was bad. Very bad.

 

[Killingmoon]

Belladonna's study wasn't exactly what you would picture it to be.
True the walls were covered in bookcases fifteen feet high, and a massive mahogany desk sat in front of floor to ceiling windows, but other than that it was unlike anyother study in the city....
With a click of the remote a flat widescreen slid down from the ceiling, and she popped the tape in the VCR.

The security tape wasn't entirely clear but she was able to see her attacker from a variety of different angles.


Catman

Not entirely original, but he was certainly a worthy advisary...and such lovely eyes....

She paused the tape and headed over to the far end of the study where a variety of exotic plants almost glistened under artificial bright lights

She misted the plants, but her thoughts kept going back to Catman...how the hell had he known that she'd be at DaiNai...

She hit speed dial,
"Mr. Black, I need you to gather all the information you can on this Catman...I don't care how, just get it." Click.

 

[Studio PC]

McKay's had an office, well, really, it was a small storage room, but given how much the patrons drank, it rarely got used as such. As a child, Kevin had spent his time there doing homework while Mick smoked an old cigar and supervised him.

More security minded then his father, Kevin had moved the office to his upstairs apartment when he inherited McKay's.

With McKay's only employee minding the bar, Kevin tried to work on the books, but his thoughts kept wandering back to Dai Nai and what had posessed him to go back.

It had been the smell that did it. A musky, cimmamon sort of smell that called and beckoned him into the plant. When he had seen the woman ransacking the offices, well, Catman had did what he was born to do.

DaiNai . . . he looked up at the photo of Mick.

Why DaiNai?

 

[Killingmoon]

After a long shower Bella dressed in black thigh-high stockings, a short black leather mini, black lace camisole and a matching fitted black leather jacket with a pair of 4 in stillettos.
She was applying a scarlet lipstick of her own design, appropriately called "Harlot Scarlet" when the small silver phone on the vanity began to ring.

"Yes...
You've got it?....Excellent. You'll be rewarded for this.
I'll meet you in the limo downstairs in five minutes." Click.


Five minutes later Bella slid across the leather seat in the back of the limo. Across from her sat her longtime companion and business associate Mr. Black, as dark as his name his smooth ebony skin was only a shade or so lighter than the all black ensembles he tended to wear, his smile tended to be a blinding contrast to the darkness...but he rarely smiled.

"Good afternoon Mistress," he greeted her with a bow of his head as he handed her a thick black leather portfolio.
"How thoughtful of you Mr. Black, to coordinate with my ensemble." She chuckled. "This is all of it?"

He nodded, "All that I could come across at this time, I used all our usual channels as well as some new ones. I hope you'll be pleased."
Bella only nodded as she opened the file....

 

[Studio PC]

Sadly, the file contained very little that hadn't already been released to the public.

Catman had first been sighted just eight months ago. Originally dismissed as Urban Legend, he'd saved the life of the mayor and his guests by averting a terrorist attack in front of live TV cameras. Since then, public opinion had been divided on whether he was a good or a bad thing.

He stood somewhere between five seven and six feet two. Very strong, fast and agile.

Ethnicity unknown, age assumed to be somewhere in the mid-twenties.

In fact, the only thing of interest was that Catman seemed to have a particular interest in Hell Street and the surrounding blocks.

That was a good or bad thing. Hell Street was a borderline war zone and many a cop refused to set foot anywhere near it.

On the other hand, his interest in it suggested that Catman made his home there . . . or at least had something to hide.

 

[Killingmoon]

Bella closed the file, nothing that she hadn't already known.
"Useless..." she murmmered tossing the file on the seat beside her.
"I've failed you-"
"Yes Mr. Black, and you'll be punished for it later." She winked, and she could almost swear that beneath the darkness and the hard cold exterior Mr. Black blushed.

She pressed the button for the intercom,
"Driver, take me to 5200 North Ave."

~~~~~

They arrived at 5200 North Ave., the offices of one Mr. Marvin Bent-District Attorney.
"Do you wish for me to accompany you Mistress?"
Bella shook her head, "no Mr. Black, this is something I'd best do alone..."

~~~~~

Once upstairs she found herself confronted with a young blonde woman, obviously Bent's receptionist...and probably his afternoon fuck. Must be nice to have a willing fuck at your beck and call at the office-ah the wonderful things taxpayer dollars covered.
She turned her smirk into a fake smile and strode forward,
"I'd like to see Marvin Bent please."
The girl gazed up at her with a bored yet questioning expression,
"Do you have an appointment."
"I don't need an appointment," she replied curtly, "just tell the sonofabitch Belladonna Rosellini is here to see him."
The blonde picked up the phone and murmmered something into the reciever, then with a defeated look she hung up,
"go right on in, Ms. Rosellini."

~~~~~

District Attorney Marvin Bent stood at the wet bar pouring two brandies, "it's been awhile Bella..."
"It has been Marvin...too long...not since the Comissioner's Ball."
He chuckled, "true, true....You're looking quite well, as beautiful as ever."
Bella took a sip of her own brandy, "Mr. Bent I do believe you're coming on to me..."
He chuckled, "Well isn't that why you came?"
She laughed, "Please Mr. Bent.....I came to discuss your Cat problem......."

 

[Studio PC]

Bent

Bent sat back, a slight frown on his face. "Cat problem, Bella? Why would you be interested in my . . . cat problem?"

 

[Killingmoon]

"I have a business interest in DaiNai, and I know for a fact that our little vigilante has been snooping around there as of late. I don't like that. And besides Marvin, like any good citizen in this city I despise vigilante lawbreakers who think that they are above our legal system." She took another sip of brandy and slipped out of her jacket, and she noticed the sight of flesh only seemed to peak his interest.
"I've been looking into this 'Catman' and I think we can help each other if you're willing....." she winked.

 

[Studio PC]

Bent frowned ever so slightly. Like her Father, he was damn well aware that what a Rosselini wanted, a Rosselini got.

On the other hand, Bent was no longer a youth who'd escaped from Hell Street and he didn't fear Bella's considerable anger.

"What did you have in mind, Bella?"

 

[Killingmoon]

"You give me the information you have on Catman and I'll take care of the rest. Family money can buy a lot more than taxpayer dollars Mr. Bent. A lot more."
She drained the glass, "think on that Mr. Bent, you have my number."

She slid the jacket back on and headed for the door...

 

[Studio PC]

Bent sat there for a moment, frowning, and then pressed the button to summon his secretary.

"Sharie, I need you."

She came in a moment later, and reached up to her blouse, but stopped when Bent raised his hand.

"That woman who was just here."

"Is she always so . . . intense?"

"A family trait. Gather everything we've got on Catman and send it to this address." He scribbled an address on a card, but didn't hand it to her. "And not a word to anyone."

"Of course, sir." She paused for a moment. "Was there . . . anything else?"

Bent smiled and pushed his chair back from his desk.

She returned his smile and came around the desk and knelt before him, long fingers massaging him through his slacks. After a few seconds of that, she unzipped his pants and reached inside, through the flap in his underwear and pulled him out.

Slowly, she ran her fingers up and down the shaft before doing the same with her tounge, bathing every sqaure inch until he was fully hard.

Even then, she continued, using both her fingers and her tounge.

Finally, she wrapped her mouth around him and began to bob her head, her warm mouth taking all seven inches. When she reached the base, she slid her tounge out and began to move back up oh so slowly, her tounge soft on the underside of his shaft. When the head left her mouth, she flicked it with her tounge and then dropped her head down, once more enveloping him in her mouth.

When she moved upwards again, she did it fast, causing Bent to groan loudly.

Again, down slowly, up fast. Slow, fast, slow, fast slow, fast.

She grabbed his cock and began to pump hard, his shaft, soaked with her spit sliding easily in her hand. She varied the speed and power of her strokes. Slow, fast, gently, hard.

Then released him and enveloped him with her mouth, once more using her tounge as she move upwards.

Again and again she did this, never using either one for too long, holding him at the edge, never letting him relax or go over until sweat was soaking his forehead and the muscels of his thighs taut under her hand.

And then she squeezed him tight and he went over as she captured the head in her mouth, his sweet seed flowing into her mouth, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, her hand pumping him dry.

Only when he was empty, did she tuck him back inside his pants and zip them up.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" She asked, once more the professional assistant.

Bent took a deep breath as he handed her the card with Bella's address on it. "No, thank you, Sharie, that will be all."

"Very good, sir," she said, and left the office.

 

[Killingmoon]

As Belladonna descended the office steps Mr. Black stood holding open her door,
"Thats alright Mr. Black...I have an errand to run and I don't believe this one requires either you or Davis' services...at least not until much later. I just need a cab....."

~~~~~~

Bella found herself a cab and ignoring the gruff comments from the driver she pulled out the sleek silver phone and made a call.

Hell Street was not a neighborhood that she frequented, but she knew someone who did....his name was Lenny Kraft.
She'd helped Lenny out of a few legal binds before in exchange for information. He was more than happy to oblidge her wishes, provided she pay for a few rounds and gave him a bit of money for...other expenses...so she agreed to meet him at his favorite haunt on Hell Street, McKay's.

~~~~~~

By the time the cab reached the bar it was dark, and it had begun to rain. Bella threw two twenties at the driver,
"keep the change."

The rain was coming down hard now, thankfully it beaded off the leather, but the camisole was soaked through, her nipples hard and visible through the thin fabric as stray dark curls clung to her forehead.

She pushed open the door to the bar and scanned the bar area...Lenny wasn't there yet, which was suprising. So she took a seat at the bar and slipped off the leather jacket,
"Hey," she called out to the bartender, "you wouldn't happen to have a towel back there would ya?"

 

[Studio PC]

Kevin raised an eyebrow when the woman walked into McKay's. Not many prostitutes were out on nights like this. Hell, even he was contemplating staying home.

He shrugged and tossed her the towel hanging off his shoulder when she asked for one and then went rummaging for a spare.

Laundry. He really needed to do some laundry so he'd have clean towels. That was probably the last -- Ah! Here was a clean one. The last clean one. Definitily laundry tomorrow.

He tossed the towel back on his shoulder, picked up a rag, and resumed cleaning glasses, only to narrow his eyes when Lenny Kraft walked in.

Lenny was as close to a rat as a man could be without sprouting fur and whiskers.

Kevin hated rats.

 

[Killingmoon]

Bella took the towel graciously, and began to pat herself dry before moving on to towel dry her hair. She slipped the jacket back on and was getting ready to order a drink to pass the time when Lenny walked in.

Lenny was a short squat man with small beady eyes, a rather large nose and more hair on his body than on his head. He was dressed rather poorly, always was...he looked like a cheap hustler from a 70s porno flick: gold chains, polyester in horrid colors and pants that were far too tight for someone of his build. He looked like scum, and he was. But one would think that in his line of work you'd try to be more discreet.

"Miz Rosellini," he had a distinct nasal accent, "I do apologize for my tardiness." He made eye contact with Kevin,
"eh McKay, two burbons...your best stuff. The lady 'ere is buyin."
He had to literally hop up on the barstool beside her.
"So, Miz Rosellini...how'z biznezz?"

Bella cleared her throat softly before speaking, god did he smell...
"Business is good Mr. Kraft. Excellent in fact, we're in the middle of a takeover that could end up being worth quite a bit more thn we'd previously anticipated."

 

[Studio PC]

Kevin served up the drinks and then looked at the lady. On closer inspection, she wasn't a prostitute. Her leather clothing was expensive, top notch.

No wonder she was paying.

Two bucks," Kevin said gruffly and then clamped his hand around Lenny's wrist.

"Oh, and Lenny . . . You wouldn't happen to have any . . . items on you that might . . . attract undue attention, would you?" He paused for a moment and then continued in a voice colder then death itself. "Because if the cops come nosing around here again because of you, the Rockers are going to find out what you did last month."

 

[Killingmoon]

Lenny shook him off, "get yer handz off me, McKay. You ain't no cop. B'sides yer embarassing me in front of my lady friend here."

Bella put a hundred on the counter and took a sip of her bourbon.
"Lenny, I'm not your friend, I'm not your business associate, you just have something I need. So take your drink and don't make me regret calling you."

Lenny smiled showing off two gold teeth, "we won't have no trouble 'ere McKay, I'm clean...just got some business to take care of here then I'll be out of your hair." He downed the glass in one gulp, "two more...and we'll take 'em at the booth in the corner."
He hopped off the stool and extended his hand, "shall we m'lady."

Bella ignored his hand smiling at Kevin, "thank you for being so patient...whatever he wants I'll cover it. Thats for putting up with him." She rose effortlessly and moved towards the booth.

"Ok Lenny, tell me that you're worth what I paid for..."

 

[Studio PC]

Kevin's smile was razor thin as his hand lashed out, grabbed the chains around Lenny's neck and pulled hard, slamming Lenny chin first into the bartop.

"You're right, Lenny," he said, in that same cold as death voice, "I'm not the cops. But this is Hell Street and I doubt your friend here would be very upset if you were found folded in half in the gutter."

He pulled Lenny upright, letting the chains have just enough slack to keep the little rat from choking. "I'll say it again Lenny. Clean nose, or the Rockers. Your choice."

He let the chains go and smiled at the lady, the hundred vanishing from the bartop as though whisked away by invisible hands.

"Two drinks, coming right up."

 

[Killingmoon]

Lenny straightened himself up and gave Kevin a mean look then wordlessly made his way over to the booth.
"I assure you Miz Rosellini I'm worth every penny." He grinned again flashing those gold teeth.
"Though I don't know if we should talk here...wanna go back to my place and get comfortable?"
There was a click under the table.
"Lenny," she began calmly, her voice even and cold, "I have a .45 pointed at your dick...so either you cool it or I'll blow it off, I don't thing anyone in this place would mourn the loss."
His eyes widened, and he grabbed what was left of her drink and downed it.
"You certainly get to the point doncha Miz Rosellini." He paused,
"alrighty then...as I'm sure you know already dis is his turf, Hell Street. There have been more Catman sightings here than anywhere else in the city."
"Lenny, I don't mean to interrupt but don't you think that is at least partially due to the high crime rate here compared to the rest of the city?"
"Dat may be true, but still...I'z seen 'em. More than once. He's a sly bastard and he's screwed me over on more than one occasion. But I don't think he'll be around too much longer. Too many people in this city crooks and legit's want him gone. But I have to say if you want a glimpse of him or whatever fascination it is you have in that freak you'll hang around my neck of the woods more often."

 

[Studio PC]

Kevin seemingly materialized as the gun clicked.

"You're new here, lady," he said, setting two fresh drinks on the table. "So I'll say this once. While I could care less if you shoot Lenny, you don't do it inside. I run an orderly bar." He held out his hand. "Your gun, please." He paused for a moment. "Yours too, Kraft. And the knife in your shoe and the butterfly in your pocket."

 

[Killingmoon]

With a forced smile Bella handed over the gun, "didn't mean to cause a problem. But a girl has to take some precautions in a neighborhood like this-no offense."
Lenny however wasn't so willing,
"sorry McKay, tooz many people in dez parts want my head in a handbasket. So I thank you for the drinks but I'm outta here."
Squeezing past Kevin, Lenny bolted out the door without another word.
Bella rose from her seat, "this is a nice place you've got here...I'm going to stick around a bit longer if you don't mind?"