Super Mom: Besieged (Chapter 8) (Patreon)

Chapter 8

“Sorry, Honey, I know I don’t usually work Monday nights.”

Kyle looked so disappointed. The bed was wrecked after they made love. He wanted to keep going, but she had to nip that arrest warrant in the bud. Or at least learn why Cindy was going after Super Mom, the woman who saved her, instead of filing charges against the man that attacked her.

Bethanny stood in their attached bathroom in matching white silk lace bra and thongs, finishing her makeup. All the while praying Kyle didn’t ask why her Bethanny persona needed to look so fine. He hadn’t learned of Super Mom’s arrest warrant. She’d have to tell him soon, or he’d learn of it from friends, coworkers, or the TV.

“I just have to find one person, and then I can come home,” she said. “I hope to be back home within an hour or so.”

“Great. I’ll wait up for you.”

“Please, don’t do that,” she said. “There’s no guarantee I’ll find my…perp. I could be out all night looking. So just go back to bed. Get some sleep.” She finished with her face, looked at him, and winked as she left the bathroom. “If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll give you a happy ending before you go to work.”

Bethanny opened the closet and pulled out a bright white wrap dress. Very tight. Micro-mini.

“Yeah, you promise that a lot, but I haven’t gotten a pre-work BJ yet.”

“Oh my God, you’re keeping count?”

Kyle moved up to her as she slipped her arms into the dress.

“No. Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll do my damnedest to get home before you leave for work. And don’t blame me if you can’t wipe the smile off your face all day after the BJ I give you.”

“You’re the best Super MILF ever.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry. I mean SHILF. Super heroine I’d like…”

“I know what it means!”

Kyle pounced. His fingers went straight into her ribs. She squealed in giggles as his fingertips ruthlessly tickled her. She twisted and squealed, turned this way and that, struggling to escape his tickle fingers.

“I yield! You win,” she cried amid the giggles.

He relented, holding her close. She pressed into him, panting, eyes full of love and desire.

“Are you my conquering hero?” Bethanny asked. “Or my arch nemesis who always defeats and conquers me?”

“Do I get an Arch Villain name?”

“Tickle Monster.”

“Wow. Even Batman doesn’t have a Tickle Monster super villain.”

“I’m sure Batgirl tickles him when they hook up.”

“No. No, he doesn’t hook up with Batgirl!”

“Robin?”

“NO!” he cried. “How can an actual super heroine be so clueless about the Marvel and DC universes? Batman’s love is Catwoman.”

“Ooookay,” she said, pushing away to finish putting on the dress. She tied it tightly around her waist, then picked up a pair of strappy white pumps and the white thigh boots she wore earlier that day. “Which ones should I wear?”

“The boots. Always the boots,” he said. “Why do you even need to ask?”

She laughed. “I like your style, mister.”

Bethanny grabbed her white purse, kissed Kyle, and headed out. She went out the back door, careful to ensure it was locked behind her. And then she just started walking into the darkness, out into the open yard.

“Alter ego.”

A flash, and Super Mom shot up into the night sky. She did a big loop around the city, coming at the red light district from the west. The busty heroine landed in a dark parking lot, after ensuring no one else was around. Then she shifted back into Bethanny and strutted out on to the mean streets of Hightower.

The parking lot was at the western edge of the red light district, which was spread out over multiple streets and blocks. She wasn’t actually on Hightower Street, so had to walk over, and turn toward the Bawdy House brothel. Bethanny bypassed so many familiar faces, men she’d arrested many times. Pimps. Pushers. Muggers. Hired muscle. They were all out that night.

Two pimps and a drug pusher hit on her, while numerous other men catcalled or whistled at her. She just kept walking, waving off any would-be lovers. Bethanny kept her eye on the goal. Cindy worked at the Bawdy House. That’s where she had to go.

Her heart rate increased as she approached. It was one thing to enter a brothel as Super Mom, quite another to do so as Bethanny. Sexily attired, she looked like a hooker. Once inside, she hoped everyone saw her as another working girl and left her alone.

I’ll find Cindy, strike up a conversation, and we’ll see how fast I can learn what I need to know.

Bethanny paused just outside the open brothel door. Double doors. A short, well-lit corridor lay before her. Her eyes scanned the erotic art on the wall. Men and women in every conceivable sexual position. The Kama Sutra in mural form. She did double -takes on a few pictures, having never heard of such things.

“Kinky,” she whispered.

The busty blonde stepped out of the corridor and into an open room. The floor was a pale luxury vinyl that looked like hardwood flooring. The building’s concrete pillars were the only thing breaking up the space. Scantily clad young women in lingerie and heels stood back to the pillars as men browsed the merchandise on display.

“This looks like they prettied up an underground garage,” she muttered. “I expected so much more.”

Half of the women were African-American, followed closely by white hookers. A few Latina and Asian women worked there as well. The men were almost exclusively black. She’d noticed just two white men, one in a suit and the other in jeans.

Bethanny walked through the middle of the Bawdy House parlor. So many beautiful young women. She watched as several hookers took men by the arm or hand, leading them to the stairs in the very middle. Then she spotted Cindy in the far corner, chatting up a middle-aged black man. The young brunette in pink teddy and pumps nodded, smiled brightly, and led the john to the stairs. She walked right past Bethanny.

So Bethanny went over to stand next to the spot Cindy just vacated. How long do prostitution hookups last? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Thirty at the most, I’d think.

That was still fifteen to thirty minutes where she had to fend off johns. Any hope the men would ignore her since she was the most covered of any girl soon died. Two men approached her. The younger of the African-Americans reached her first.

“Hey, girl. How much for a date?”

“For you, one hundred dollars.”

“Whoa. Everyone else charges fifty.”

She just shrugged. He scowled and left. The other would-be john had over heard. He raised a questioning brow.

“Same price. One hundred.”

He moved on to another blonde. Bethanny sighed with relief. It might work out after all. And then the biggest, toughest looking man in there approached her. He looked more angry that horny.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Bethanny.”

He grabbed her arm and headed toward a door in back. Bethanny squawked, not having the strength to defend herself in that persona. Her heels clattered loudly as she struggled to break free, but continued to be dragged along. Men and women stopped to watch, a few smiling and nodding. That did not help her emotionally. What did they know?

Bethanny was dragged through the door, and then into an office. An Indian man sat behind the desk, working on a computer. He slanted a look at them, but continued working for a long moment. She looked around the room. There was a couch, TV, and two chairs in front of the desk. On one wall, was three large laminated layouts of the buildings floor plans. Women’s names were written in the occupied rooms. Not much else. Pretty Spartan, while his desk was a mess with folders, papers, and other business debris.

“What is this you found, Max?”

“I found this bitch working the parlor, Haresh,” Max said. “She just walked in and took a place. Like she owned the place.”

“That is not good, young lady,” Haresh said, shaking his finger at her. “This is my place of business. I cannot allow poachers to come in and still my ladies’ clients.”

Bethanny realized something like that could happen, so had a story ready.

“If Max is honest, he’d tell you I turned away two men,” she said. “I am not here poaching, but auditing.”

“Auditing? Do you work for the IRS? I pay my taxes.”

“No, auditing as in checking the place out to see if I want to work here,” she said. “Working the street is scary. I’d like to find a safe work environment.”

Haresh stood to look her over, head to toe. He considered her a moment, then opened his right front desk drawer. She watched his hand go inside, and come back out. There was nothing in his hand. Odd that. And then Haresh came around the desk to stand before her. His eyes locked on her chest.

“Open your dress.”

Her jaw dropped. But he looked determined. Max still looked angry, like he wanted to beat her up. So she reluctantly opened her wrap dress to show him her body. Thank God for the bra and thongs. Haresh must’ve liked what he saw, desire filled his dark eyes. He reached out and palmed her boob, giving it firm squeezes. Then his other hand came up into her face, index finger going straight to her mouth.

Haresh pushed his finger between her glossy pink lips, all the way in to press down on her tongue. She stared at him in distress, confused and frightened.

What the hell is he doing? What does he want from me?

And then intense sweetness spread across her tongue, and a little numbness. The beautiful blonde mother had just enough time to wonder why his finger was sweet, before something slapped her in the brain. The world shifted, tilted, and she got super light-headed.

He drugged me!

“What is your name, my pretty?”

“B-Beth… Bethanny,” she whispered softly, breathlessly. “I’m Bethanny.”

Her body tingled inside and out. Soon, her belly turned into a fluttery mess and her pussy got super hot, wet, and tingly. Bethanny moaned softly, rubbing her thighs together. Haresh’s hand rose up to push her dress over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She felt Max unfasten her bra, before the boss man pulled it off and tossed the bra across the room.

Haresh buried his face in her tits, kissing, sucking, licking. Her head lolled around, back bowing. Bethanny shook her head, feeling her wits slowly returning. He nibbled her right nipple.

“Oooooh. Mmmmm. Oh, Haresh, I don’t… I don’t…”

The tall, slim Indian wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in tight, and claimed her lips. Thoughts of her husband filled the blonde’s head as she moaned and groaned. They made out with growing passion. She pressed her body into him, desperate to maximize contact. Her hands clutched at him desperately, as her mouth opened and tongue darted into his mouth.

Bethanny felt Max’s hand slipped between her legs, from behind. His fingertips started out stroking her pussy through the thin silk lace. He hit her clit every single time. She felt her love juices soaking that thong, flooding it. Those strokes lit her twat on fire. A hot lump formed, throbbing with achy need.

Haresh released her lips, allowing her to gasp for air. He motorboated her tits, while Max continued to masturbate her from behind. Then the brothel owner took her by the hand, and led the dazed blonde over to the couch. He sat, moving her to stand before him. Then he slowly pulled her thong down over her flaring hips. Bethanny’s breath caught, eyes dropping to watch. Her eyes widened when the cloth clung to her sex. Really, it was glued by her sticky pre-cum that had leaked to soak the fabric. He peeled her pussy like a banana.

“Mmmgh,” she moaned, the sweetest sensations radiating inward from her pussy.

He pushed two fingers up inside her, making her rise up on her tip toes and gasp. After a few pumps, he pulled away. Haresh sat back, unzipped, and pulled out his erection.

“You want to work here, Bethanny, you have to show me what you can do first.”

Max pressed up behind her. His hands came to rest on her shoulders, and the bouncer pushed her down to her knees. Bethanny instantly knew what was expected of her. Part of her screamed RUN RUN RUN. But a stronger, more insistent side made her body tingle, mouth water, and left hand reach for his cock. She watched her long, delicate white fingers, wrap around his dark brown cock. It looked so sexy with her long pink nails, shiny rings. So pretty.

She leaned in, reaching out with her tongue. The blonde teased his piss hole with the tip of her tongue, before she wrapped full pink lips around that helmet shaped glans.

“Mmm,” she moaned, eyes closing. She began a slow bob. “Mmm. Mmm.”

Bethanny took him deeper and deeper, sucking with all her heart. To do it, she thought about Kyle. Her beloved husband. She pretended it was Kyle’s cock. Then her eyes fluttered open.

Haresh, she thought. Eyes closed, bobbing continued. No, Kyle.

The more she sucked dick, the more aroused she got. Her free hand snaked between her legs, rubbing her excited clit. As sexy sensations rippled throughout her oversexed body, she moaned, groaned, and bobbed up and down the Indian man’s cock.

Mmmm, Kyle. Kyle.

Her eyes fluttered open. Haresh stared back at her, looking so lustful. “Mmmm.”

Haresh. Not Haresh. Kyle, she thought. Love Kyle. Love. Love.

“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.”

She stared at him as she sucked his dick. Haresh got more and more excited. She sucked harder, putting more effort into giving him pleasure. Thinking about giving her husband such pleasure, but…

“Mmmm, Haresh,” she whispered, and went back down on him. Haresh. So big. So good.

The blonde pulled off, buried her face in his hairy nutsack, and rubbed. She licked and sucked on his balls a few minutes, before licking and nuzzling her way back up his shaft. And she went down on him, taking the brothel owner to the back of her throat right off.

“Mmmm.” Must think of Kyle. Love Kyle. Love. Love. Love…Haresh. “Mmm. Mmm.”

His cock swelled up, and hot viscous cum flooded her mouth. Bethanny sucked it all down. Heart hammering, heart full of love and joy. So happy she made her man happy.