Super Mom: Besieged (Chapter 6) (Patreon)

Chapter 6

Saturday night, 9 PM…

Bethanny stepped out of the house. She looked around their backyard, scanned the top of the six foot privacy fence for peeping neighbors. She could hear music blaring from five houses down the street. That family had an awful lot of loud parties into the wee hours.

Stepping away from the dim light given off by her home, the shapely blonde did one last scan of the vicinity. She struck a classic super heroine pose — chin high, feet spread, hands on well-rounded hips, and back slightly bowed.

“Alter ego,” she said softly.

There was a flash, and Super Mom stood there. Her hands smoothed her strapless corset teddy-like red, white, and blue US Flag themed costume, gloves, and then touched her blue mask before tugging up on her thigh boots. 

“Perfect,” she whispered. “I am Super Mom.” 

She slanted a crinkled nose back at the house. The raven-maned heroine shook her head. It’d been two days since Kyle told her that some referred to her as Super MILF. While her husband thought it funny, she cringed every time she thought of it. 

I just have to get that out of my head.

Super Mom took off flying. She quickly turned toward the brightly lit city. Annarky’s office towers left so many lights on twenty-four seven, plus so many of them had bright, colorful external light outlining them. With all of the other street lights, lighted signs, cars, and homes, the city was a glorious riot of color at night. She thought it the most beautiful city at night.

Flying straight into the city proper, Super Mom stopped to hover just shy of the office towers. She pulled out her phone, pulled up a secret app, and typed in Cindy Ford’s phone number. And hit enter. Within a few seconds a map of the city appeared, with a small red dot showing that phone’s location. She smiled.

“Time to find out why Cindy refused to press charges against the mayor.”

The app showed Cindy on the road moving south. Already well inside the city’s most economically depressed area, Southtown. So Super Mom bypassed downtown as she headed southward. Within moments her violet eyes locked on a bright, neon lit area. Hightower Street, and the Hightower red light district. The masked vigilante frowned. That vile district was slowly expanding, and had been for decades. Nothing the police or super heroines did so much as slowed that expansion.

The dot showing Cindy’s location went straight into that unholy district. And then it stopped in the middle of Hightower. 

“This is troublesome,” she muttered. “Why is a college coed visiting Hightower?”

Then again, that district was where she caught the mayor trying to kidnap the girl. The young brunette’s statement to police gave her occupation as “college student.” But coeds didn’t hang out in red light districts. There were a few bars and dance clubs in the district, but they were notorious pickup places. People only visited to find a one night stand. Mostly, though, the men went to Hightower to hook up with a hooker or score a bag of weed. While young pretty women went there for a very different reason.

Super Mom swooped down to fly over Hightower Street. The very sight of her sent pimps and pushers fleeing. Some of the hookers ducked and ran for hidey holes, too, though she only hassled hookers who also sold drugs. And then her violet eyes locked on a familiar figure.

“There she is.”

Cindy was striding with a confident strut toward the infamous Bawdy House brothel. Cindy wore a bright white, very tight and in your face halter top that laced up the front while leaving her cleavage completely exposed. Tiny daisy dukes left little to the imagination, with a pair of blue snake skin over-the-knee stiletto boots on her feet. She looked hot, sassy, and above all… Easy.

The heroine’s eyes glazed over a second, thinking back two nights. And yes, she did arrest the mayor in front of Bawdy House. Annoying she didn’t put two and two together before that. Was he dragging her out of the brothel? Did he not approve of her working there? Or was he snatching a hooker?

Super Mom flew past Cindy, turned and came to a clattering stiletto heel landing to startled the dark haired coed. Cindy cried out, and then stood there with a look of shock and fear on her face. The heroine smiled reassuringly.

“Hello, Cindy. We need to speak. Is there somewhere private we can go?”

“No. I’m not going anywhere with you,” she cried. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry, but we need to discuss what happened between you and Mayor Hook the other night,” Super Mom said, taking a step closer. “And I need to understand why you are refusing to press charges. Is he threatening you in any way?”

“No. No,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Randy is a regular. That’s all. Not my fault we had a closer connection. But he’s gone, so I’m good. Just go away and leave me alone.”

Super Mom looked at Cindy, then over at the entrance into Bawdy House. While the heroine had never had cause to enter that brothel, she had a pretty good idea how it operated. The ground floor was a “parlor” where the men browsed all the available girls in one spot, chose a girl, and was taken up to the girl’s room to do the deed. The only brothel that operated like that as far as the heroine knew.

Cindy tried to walk past her. Super Mom moved to block her way, reaching out to grab her upper arm. The coed-hooker turned red, then pulled out her phone.

“I’m calling 911,” she snarled. “Hello, 911? Super Mom is harassing me because I won’t file charges against the mayor. Yes! She’s right here, threatening me with physical violence.”

Super Mom’s jaw dropped. Why was that girl lying like that?

“Super Mom is stalking me,” Cindy continued. “She won’t leave me alone. Yes, I want to file charges.”

“Are you serious,” Super Mom asked. “What is wrong…”

The heroine looked around. Angry men and women were closing in. 

“You’re trespassing, mask,” a large African-American snarled. “Get out, or pay the price.”

“Street Justice, baby,” a blonde Asian hooker shouted.

The denizens of that district had recently declared themselves a No Heroine Zone. Super Mom and the other heroines just rolled their eyes when informed. It was the height of stupidity to think criminals could be rid of them that easily.

“Cindy, be reasonable,” Super Mom said. “Just let me speak to you in private a few minutes.”

“No. Get away from me. The cops are coming to arrest you, Super Cunt.”

Super Mom flinched back. Hearing such a young, pretty woman say such vile words shocked her. Cindy wasn’t much older than her step-daughter, Ariana. And then some of the crowd got within striking distance. Time was up. If she stayed there would be a knock-down, drag-out street fight.

Sighing gustily, Super Mom shook her head woefully and lifted up and away. It was obvious she had two strikes against her in the quest to guide Cindy onto the right path. One, she was a hooker and saw the judicial system as her enemy. Two, the mayor had obviously spoken to her, convinced her to not cooperate with the investigation and/or prosecution.

“I can’t give up on her yet,” she muttered. “There’s still a chance to save Cindy from this life and convince her to do the right thing.”