Tomboy: The Big Leagues (Chapter 14) (Patreon)

Tomboy: The Big Leagues

FEM Fighters Super Heroines in Peril

Chapter 14

“Where have you been?” Gloriosa cried.

Tomboy cringed. Her face heated up. She couldn’t tell her the truth – Friday morning my boyfriend took me and my girlfriend to a lake house with nine of his friends, where we had an orgy all weekend, and didn’t come back until Monday afternoon.

“I’m sorry. It was a… Family thing. Out of town,” she said. Tomboy had just met up with Gloriosa one block south of the Strip, shortly after sundown. “I just got back last night.”

Actually, she collapsed into bed and slept until midmorning. Chase and his horny friends didn’t give her or Carrie five seconds alone. It was Tuesday evening, and she was still tired.

“Okay. Okay,” Gloriosa said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, or pry into your personal life. I’ve just been going crazy. I’m the last FEM Fighter standing in Dallas. It’s never been this bad, and the Hypno Gang has at least one Amazon under their control. I still can’t believe they captured and turned Lone Star, too.”

“I know! It happened so fast,” Tomboy said. “Puritan, Lone Star, and I were winning the fight handily, and then Vixen and Puma slapped us down in a flash.”

“Welcome to the big beautiful world of super heroines,” Gloriosa said. “One minute you are on top of the world, winning at everything, and the next you’re laid out unconscious. Everything happens in an eye-blink.”

Tomboy nodded, face grim. “Don’t I know!”

“So if I understand it correctly, Vixen and Puma have the hypno app on their phones, too?”

“Yes. And I assume so do Puritan and Lone Star now,” Tomboy said. “What are we going to do? They serve the Hypno Gang slavishly, and they outnumber us by quite a lot.”

Gloriosa shook her head. “I know. Our problem is we are trying to capture our friends without hurting them. They can go all out on us. My fault, I should’ve realized the danger sooner.”

“It’s not your fault, Gloriosa,” she said. “We’re dealing with evil men.”

“Yes, and now it’s doubly important to stay on our toes.”

Kelly looked down at the FEM Fighter’s thigh-booted foot. The bright yellow really popped, even in that dim light.

“Easy for you to say in those stiletto boots,” Tomboy said. “I’m just wearing sneakers.”

Gloriosa did a double-take, and then laughed softly. “Ah, a joke. Funny. Now, let’s focus. I think our best course of action will be to visit known family, friends, and accomplices of the men we know within the gang.”

“I only know the full name of one of them,” Tomboy said. “Andre Garrett. Do you know others?”

“Yes, I recognized some of them during our failed attempt to rescue Puma,” she said. “Joe Wilson and Leon Edwards are two you know, I think.”

“Yeah. Leon and Joe,” she said, unwanted memories of hands, lips, and dicks filling her thoughts. “I know them a little too intimately.”

“I understand,” she said, scowling. “I had a similar experience with Leon just two weeks after becoming a FEM Fighter. We call them setbacks, and do our best to not think about them, much less dwell on them. But we always, eventually, get our pound of flesh.” Her eyes narrowed. “Leon still owes me another half pound.”

They climbed onto Gloriosa’s motorcycle and took off. She drove straight to the highway, and headed east. Leon grew up in Mesquite, Texas, a suburb of Dallas. Indeed, his family farm lay at the edge of town, in a still rural area.

And it was dark away from the city lights. Thank God for the moon.

Tomboy looked the place over as they drove up the long driveway to the farmhouse and barn. Behind the barn rested a tractor, and assorted plows and mowers. Well, she didn’t have the foggiest idea what any of them were called, much less what they did. There was also a row of broken down and rusting away cars, with working cars and pickups all around the night-shadowed barnyard between the house and barn.

“We’re visiting Leon’s father, Ernest Edwards,” Gloriosa said. “Ernie has seven sons and three daughters. His poor wife died shortly after the last child was born, so they were all raised to be just like their spiteful father. The boys are all petty criminals like daddy, while the girls vacillate between hooking and stripping. One and all deal drugs at least part time.”

Seven big, mean-looking men came out of the house as they pulled up. None of them were armed, but they looked like stereo-typical “country people” to Tomboy. Three young women stood on the porch in crop-tops and daisy dukes.

“Welcome to the Edwards Farm, or what I call Redneck Central,” Gloriosa said. “Don’t let any of them get behind you.”

“I won’t,” she whispered. “They don’t look friendly.”

“They aren’t,” the FEM Fighter said. “One and all have been to prison more than once.”

“Get off my property,” the most elderly of them shouted. “Heroines aren’t welcome here, girls. So get your asses out while you can.”

Gloriosa slanted a look back at Tomboy, a smirk playing with her full red lips.

“I sent Old Man Edwards to prison two years back. I think he’s holding a grudge,” she said. Turning back to the senior Edwards, “How’d you get out so fast, Ernie? It can’t be due to good behavior. You’re just too mean.”

Tomboy noticed one of the men had picked up a mattock’s handle. She tightened her grip around her bat.

“Do you think they are going to attack us?”

Gloriosa nodded. “Yes. Don’t let any of them get to my bike; otherwise, we’ll be walking home. And these boots are not made for walking.”

They dismounted. Gloriosa held her hand up to keep Tomboy next to the bike, and then walked toward Old Man Edwards. Really, it was more a sassy strut. Every man stopped to stare. Even Tomboy found herself a little mesmerized by Gloriosa’s swinging hips.

“Alright, old man, spill. Where is your son, Leon, holed up?”

“Fuck you.”

“Aww, bless your heart,” she purred.

Tomboy noticed four of the younger men began to covertly move to surround the FEM Fighter, before slowly moving in. Tomboy saw Gloriosa glance left and right, getting everyone’s position. She continued looking confident, but Tomboy wasn’t feeling it. Then the remaining two men, including the guy with the mattock’s handle, began moving toward her.

While Gloriosa threatened the patriarch, the son to Gloriosa’s left rear pulled a hunting knife, kept it hidden, and eased closer and closer. So Tomboy pulled a baseball out of a pouch, tossed it in the air, and swung her bat.

Crack!

“Ugh!” the bad guy cried, the baseball ricocheting off the back of his head. He dropped the knife, but spun around toward Tomboy while rubbing the knot on the back of his head. “Bitch! I’m going to fuck you up.”

Every one of them attacked. Four charged Gloriosa, and three went after Tomboy. The man to the FEM Fighter’s right rear rushed in first, but she activated her left Power Bracer, and he ran headlong into her energy shield.

And squealed like a stuck pig when he touched it.

That made all of the men stop and look. Tomboy exploited their distraction. She stepped toward the man with the mattock’s handle, and swung her bat into his forearm. He howled as the handle went flying, and his arm started moving in unnatural directions.

And then it was elbows and assholes. Her bat proved the great equalizer fighting two big, brutal thugs. She hit one of their fists with the bat, and extremely hard, too. Tomboy suspected she shattered every bone in his hand, and his cry of agony confirmed it.

Gloriosa used her Power Bracers to good effect, taking out the three younger Edwards quickly and efficiently. Then she turned and sent a stun beam in the last man facing Tomboy.

“Alright, old man. Your obstinacy has caused all of your sons to be beaten down. Some of them will need medical attention,” Gloriosa said, squaring off with the patriarch. “Tell us where to find Leon.”

He spat at her instead. Gloriosa cried out in surprise, and then in rage. All Tomboy saw was flashing yellow as the FEM Fighter beat that evil of old bastard into the mud. She left Ernie a twitching, bleeding mess.

The three daughters cried out and rushed to tend to their father.

“Let’s go, Tomboy,” Gloriosa growled, mounting her bike. Tomboy jumped on behind her. “These in-bred morons aren’t going to be any help.”

They discussed their next move as they departed and headed back toward Dallas. Joe came from a small town south of Fort Worth, which was about two hours away. They wouldn’t arrive until after ten at night, and they would have another two hours return trip. Tomboy had classes starting at 7 AM the next morning, but hesitated saying anything. Rescuing the captured and hypnotized heroines had to be her priority. But then something occurred to her.

“How do we break the hypnotic trance? Puma was hit pretty hard and nothing changed.”

“I don’t know,” Gloriosa said. “I guess we use one of the phones, hypnotize one of the bad guys, and make him tell us.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said, feeling foolish. “That’ll work.”

Brake lights flashed before them, so Gloriosa braked as well. And something large whooshed past right in front of them. Barely missed them, in fact.

“What the hell was that?” Tomboy cried.

“Lone Star! She’s coming after us,” Gloriosa said, and hit the gas as she turned onto the shoulder of the road. “The Edwards must’ve called Leon to warn him, so the Hypno Gang sent her after us.”

The hypnotized heroine came straight at them. Tomboy spotted her dead ahead a split second before Gloriosa, who hit the brakes and turned. Lone Star slammed into the FEM Fighter’s flank and ripped her off the bike. The engine died, and Tomboy barely kept it upright. She lowered the kickstand, and rushed to help Gloriosa.

The FEM Fighter and Lone Star duked it out, toe-to-toe in the middle of the road. Cars skidded to a stop, honking horns and flashing their headlights. The two super-powered women ignored them. So Tomboy grabbed her dropped bat and charged into the fray.

Lone Star took off flying, but not away. She looped around and tried to slam her feet into Gloriosa. The FEM Fighter fended her off with her Power Bracer shield, so the Amazon tried again and again. With her flying around like that, neither Tomboy nor Gloriosa could engage her.

“I hear motorcycles,” Gloriosa cried. “She’s just holding us here until Puma, Vixen, and Puritan arrive to finish us off.”

Tomboy’s heart sank into her stomach. She looked around. They were still in undeveloped country, so no businesses or houses around. No real trees, either, but lots of scrub. Mesquite trees in fact. Still, it was night and she felt they could vanish in there, but Lone Star would never allow them to get away.

“You can’t last much longer, Gloriosa,” Lone Star taunted. “Surrender, and I’ll be easy on you.”

“Kiss my ass,” Gloriosa shouted.

Tomboy realized Lone Star was correct. Gloriosa looked shiny with sweat, panting furiously. She’d already used her Power Bracers too much. The FEM Fighter was at the end of her rope, so Tomboy had to step up and defend her. But how?

“Lone Star, you two-bit whore!” Tomboy cried, covertly slipping a baseball into her right hand as she moved to place herself between the two women. “Pick on someone your own size!”

Lone Star stopped to hover about ten feet above the ground. Gloriosa dropped to her knees, arms hanging at her sides. Tomboy didn’t see any more fight in her. And then Lone Star grinned at them.

“I would, little heroine wannabe, but Lady Texas is not here,” Lone Star said. “And she’s the only one in this city who could challenge me. So I’ll just kick your ass.”

Tomboy quickly delivered a pitch. A fastball straight at Lone Star’s face.

“Nice try,” the Amazon said. The ball stopped just a foot from the heroine’s face. Lone Star smiled down at Tomboy. “What’s good for the goose…”

The baseball suddenly shot at Tomboy like a bullet. She cried out, dodging to the right. The ball winged the side of her head. Yeah, it hurt like crazy. Unfortunately, the deflected ball struck Gloriosa in the head, and the FEM Fighter collapsed into a boneless heap. So Tomboy snatched up a stone and threw it at Lone Star. Again, the Sisterhood heroine caught it with her Power, and hurled it straight back. That one stuck Tomboy’s lower back as she tried to dart away.

Lone Star seized dozens of stones, some the size of fists, and sent them flying at Tomboy. The busty blonde cried out as stone after stone pounded into her.

She ducked behind Gloriosa’s bike to block the flying rocks. The headlights of three motorcycles came over the hill, racing towards them. Tomboy looked left and right, looking for a way out. She was surrounded by darkness. So she quickly pulled out a small black homing device, and hid it inside the back fender.

Gripping her bat with both hands, she vowed to go down fighting, and then Lone Star dropped down behind her. The vanquished and hypnotized heroine had her phone in hand, and turned it to toward Tomboy.

“No!” Tomboy cried, and swung her bat.

Tomboy hit a homerun, so to speak. She batted the phone out of Lone Star’s hand, sending it flying off in a hundred pieces.

“Aaiiee! You bitch!” Lone Star screamed, shaking her now empty hand.

Vixen came skidding to a stop next to Gloriosa. Panic gripped Tomboy. So she surged at Lone Star, thrusting the business end of her bat into the Amazon’s belly. Then she continued past her, off the road, and plunged into the darkness beyond.