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        Bronze Lust

        By A Pulp Fan

        Copyright © 1998

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        THE PULP HEROINES IN PERIL SERIES, EPISODE ONE

        PAT SAVAGE IN

        "BRONZE LUST"

        by

        A Pulp Fan

        DISCLAIMER: "Doc Savage" is a registered trademark of Conde Nast Publications, Inc. As should be readily apparent, this story has not been authorized by Conde Nast and the author makes no claim on any of the characters contained herein who originally appeared in "Doc Savage Magazine." No disrespect is meant to Lester Dent, John Nanovic or any of the other people involved in writing or creating one of the greatest adventure heroes in American fiction. I just decided to take things a little (well, maybe more than a little) farther than Philip Jose Farmer did. This story may be freely copied and posted via newsgroups or on webpages without further permission, but please do not modify it (and please don't post it on alt.pulp or alt.fan.doc-savage, where underage folks might read it). Oh yeah, this story contains explicit matter of a sexual nature and if you are under legal age in your jurisdiction, stop reading this and go off and read "The Man of Bronze!"

        This story contains: F solo, MF, FF, MMMF, MFF, NC.

        Chapter One
        Bronze Knockout

        It happened because Pat's pussy whimpered.

        Of course, if Doc Savage had been in town, it likely wouldn't have happened at all--at least not the way it turned out. That's because if Doc were in town, his five aides would probably have been in town with him, and Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett Mayfair--better known to his friends as Monk--would have been staying over at Pat Savage's place for the night.

        However, the Man of Bronze and his crew had left New York suddenly, without telling Pat where they had gone. This was a precautionary bit of work on Doc's part, for if his adventure loving cousin had known that they were leaving the country on one of their many adventures, Doc would have had to spend a great deal of time in making sure Pat didn't finagle her way into the middle of it. Although Doc Savage would probably have argued that he performed his work for the good of mankind, rather than from any love of excitement and danger, the truth was that this thrill seeker mentality ran deep in the Savage genes, and Pat's impressive figure had a whopping share of it. Sometimes Doc felt that it was more work stopping Pat from worming her way into the middle of their latest adventure and keeping Pat out of trouble than it was to solve the trouble in the first place.

        And so Doc and the fabulous five had departed for climes unknown, leaving his gorgeous cousin to her own devices.

        Although they were an incongruous couple, the simian- seeming Monk and the bronzed bombshell Pat had one thing in common--an insatiable love for sex. Having discovered their mutual interest some months ago, many of Monk's nights in the city were spent over at Pat's penthouse apartment, fucking until late in the evening, and often resuming the following morning, as one or the other of the couple would wake the other up by their oral ministrations. The first time Pat had seen Monk naked, her eyes had widened in astonishment before she exclaimed that his nickname should have been Horse. The affair had, to this point, been kept a secret, since both felt that the Man of Bronze would have more than frowned on their relationship--and indeed, might even come to blows with Monk if he felt that the chemist had taken advantage of his cousin.

        It was for this reason that Pat, despite her attraction to one of Doc's other aides, Ham, had done little more than fantasize about doing Monk and Ham together--assuming, for the moment, that she could have convinced them to put aside their perpetual quarrel for a few hours. She had concluded that, in all likelihood, even if she were willing to increase the risk that Doc would learn of her affair with Monk, Monk and Ham would leave her frustrated, left to take matters into her own skilled hands, while they argued over who got to plunge his cock into her wet pussy and who would be brought to climax by Pat's well trained tongue and lips.

        Although Monk was travelling with his companions in danger, the luscious lady adventurer was roused from slumber by the lapping of a rough tongue across her bronzed skin. The owner of this wet appendage, however, was not Monk-- whose ability to bring her to orgasm after orgasm while eating her delicious cunt continued not only to amaze her but also served to further endear Monk to Pat. Rather, the tongue in question belonged to Pat's latest love.

        Groaning softly as she struggled awake and used her hand to push the tongue and its owner away from her face, where it had cleaned her cheek thoroughly, Pat propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at the other occupant of the bed. Though it was early in the morning, the sun streaming into the room was scarcely less radiant than the female Savage. Bronze hair, slightly dishevelled from sleep, cascaded past her shoulders and down her back, with a few wisps resting on and partially obscuring her tanned breasts. With the bedsheet bunched up down about her waist, Pat's golden globes were exposed to the morning sun, large and firm, tipped with crinkled coral nipples which seemed to be begging to be kissed and caressed.

        The effect was, unfortunately, lost on the other occupant of the bed, down upon whom Patricia Savage stared fondly with gold-flecked eyes.

        A pair of feline eyes stared unblinkingly back at her.

        "So, how'd you sleep, Curlers?" she asked the tan cat lying next to her, reaching out a hand to stroke its fur. A soft purring was the only reply.

        The cat was a recent acquisition of Pat's. A few weeks before, she had gone shopping in the city and, upon returning to her car, was surprised to find a tan kitten waiting outside of it, meowing piteously. The cat had no collar or tag, but seemed to know that it had found a soft touch. Pat had taken the cat back to her place, where it had promptly made itself at home both in her apartment and her heart.

        It had been Monk who had suggested that, since his ape was named Chemistry while Ham's pig bore the moniker Habeas Corpus, what the cat needed was a name that evoked, in some way, Pat's business. This business--not her business of getting into trouble, but the one at which she pulled in the green stuff--was operating a beauty salon.

        To say that it was an upscale salon would have been a gross underexaggeration. Operated in an exclusive location on Park Avenue, the salon catered to all of the leaders of fashion in the city, charging outrageous prices and making the clientele love it. As Doc had dryly commented to Pat on more than one occasion, highway robbers could take a few tips from her.

        And so Pat had decided on the name "Curlers" for her new companion.

        Finishing scratching her pussy cat's head, Pat jumped out of bed. The sight of Pat jumping out of bed was enough to make a strong man go weak in the knees and develop problems swallowing. Pat liked to sleep in the raw--a trait much appreciated by Monk--and watching Pat get out of bed was one of his favorite activities, though not quite as favorite as getting her into bed. Men called Doc Savage a physical marvel; seeing his physique, they could only stare in amazement at what the human body could, given the proper genetics and training, be molded into. What men called his cousin, Pat Savage, was generally along the same lines, though generally including the words bombshell, dropdead, knockout and gorgeous in copious amounts. Having inherited the Savage genes, Pat's nearly six foot frame had been developed through plenty of physical activity--including boxing and fencing lessons which had made her more than a match for most men in these sports--and had stayed in fighting trim through a routine of regular exercise. Though Pat loved to scrap and would do nearly anything to get herself inserted into one of Doc's adventures, on a more day-to-day basis the chief benefit she derived from her exercise routine--in addition to maintaining one of Manhattan's most stunning bodies--was the increased sexual stamina her exercise program gave her.

        Pat was not only insatiable, when it came to sex, she was practically inexhaustible. She liked nothing better than to ride on Monk's cock for hours, driving it in and out of her wet pussy while her bronzed thighs, glistening with her sweat, went up and down, up and down, pulling herself nearly off his penis and then dropping back down on it until it was buried fully inside her. The only problem was that usually she could keep it up a lot longer than Monk could keep it up, but Pat didn't mind. Not only did she love the feel of his cum shooting into her and coating the inside of her quim, by the time Monk let go with his load, she generally had already brought herself to several crashing climaxes from riding his cock and grinding her clit into his groin or rubbing herself with her fingers while fucking him. And if she wanted more, cleaning the mixture of her pussy juice and Monk's cum off of his cock with her lips and tongue, all the while smiling at him with wide, innocent golden eyes, was always enough to get him ready for another round.

        Monk liked to think he was in shape, and he was though he didn't exercise, but just watching Doc Savage perform the two hours of exercise he undertook each day made Monk sweat. Watching Pat perform her exercises had the same effect on him, with the added effect of invariably giving him a raging hard-on. Since her workout program inevitably made her extremely horny by its finish, this came in quite handy.

        On this morning, however, only the eyes of Curlers the cat were witness to Pat's lithe form bouncing out of bed. The sheet fell away from her toned body, revealing her long muscular legs, topped by a neatly trimmed triangle of bronze pubic hair, as Pat made her way from the bed, across the plush carpeting that covered the floor to the radio--an experimental model designed by Doc which cut down considerably on static, as well as requiring almost no time to warm up.

        As music began to fill the room, Pat began her morning exercise routine, stretching her shapely arms towards the ceiling, causing her slightly bouncing breasts to lift up as if offering their pink tips in worship to the gods, while Curlers looked on with an expression that might have been boredom--but in a cat, who could tell?

        For half an hour, Pat worked out to the strains emanating from the radio, causing her breasts and ass cheeks to jiggle enticingly, working up a healthy sweat until her entire bronzed body stood glistening, leaving her looking like some prehistoric jungle queen after the rains. The wetness between her thighs, however, was not due entirely to perspiration. Working out always made her delectable pussy juices flow and invariably left her horny and eager to fuck. It was with a sigh of regret that she thought once more about her absent lover.

        Finally finished with and panting slightly from her exertions, Pat padded into the bathroom, grabbing her bathrobe along the way, and stepped into the shower. Not wanting to let her out of his sight, Curlers followed along behind and curled up on the bathroom rug. As the water poured over Pat's lithe form, she soaped herself thoroughly, lathering her taut stomach and muscular thighs, enjoying the feeling of the tiny jets of water cascading off her body, shampooing and rinsing her luxurious bronze hair.

        Squeaky clean at last, Pat began to daydream about the last time she and Monk had showered together. Dropping to her knees before him and gazing up at him with a devilish grin across her luscious lips, she had lathered up his cock and balls and slowly began to jerk him off with her skilled hands, pausing occasionally to lightly run her fingernails across his scrotum. As she thought about the encounter, her hands moved slowly up her young body, sliding across her stomach until they cupped her breasts, pushing them up and together so that tiny rivulets of water, like miniature waterfalls, cascaded from her rapidly hardening nipples. Her fingers grasped the engorged peaks between them and she began to twist and pull on them gently, shooting sparks of pleasure throughout her and causing her cunt to moisten further in anticipation. Bending her head down, she flicked her agile tongue across the crimson tips while she recalled how Monk had stared down at her and begged her to take him into her hot, wet mouth. Smiling, Pat remembered her refusal to do so, and how she had kept stroking his ten inch dick, pausing now and then as the suds were washed away to soap it up more thoroughly. Monk had clutched the walls of the shower and groaned at the exquisite sensations as he grew closer and closer to cumming--then he had gasped even louder as one of Pat's soapy fingers had worked its way between his nether cheeks and into his ass, probing as her other hand increased its speed, travelling from the head of his cock to its base and then back again, gently twisting as it went back and forth.

        By this point in her reminiscing, one of Pat's hands had left her breasts and slid back down her stomach, through her neatly trimmed bush and spread the folds of her labia, loving the feel of the warm water coursing along the folds of her vagina. Leaning back against the shower wall, she slowly stroked her clitoris, sliding her fingers around and around her pussy, dipping two fingers into the moist heat of her cunt and bringing them back out, spreading her love juices on her clit as she teased it and felt it harden between her legs. Waves of pleasure spread through her body as her other hand alternately fondled and pinched her nipples, moving from one globe to the other, playing with the turgid tips. Groaning with delight, she finally slid this hand too down her body, around her side until it reached her luscious ass, sliding it soapily back and forth between her ass cheeks, brushing and teasing her asshole as it went up and down, up and down, all the while the fingers of her other hand were slipping back and forth, gently rubbing her clit as the hot water poured down upon her.

        Getting closer and closer to bringing herself off, Pat needed to feel something filling her hot cunt. Reluctantly moving her left hand from her ass, she reached out and pushed against one of the shower tiles. It swung open on a spring hinge, revealing a hidden compartment. Reaching in, Pat withdrew a porcelain dildo of exquisite workmanship and impressive size--a gift from Monk procured during a recent excursion to India. Grasping the artificial cock by its base, she let the water play over it for a moment before bringing it swiftly to her heated cunt. Using the fingers of her right hand to spread her lower lips apart, she slowly and tantalizingly inserted the slick dildo into her pussy, pushing it past her tight opening until several inches were buried inside of her. Closing her eyes, Pat began to rub her clit faster and faster, all the while plunging the hard shaft in and out of her sopping quim. As she climbed towards her orgasm, her mind remembered what she had asked Monk, as one hand jerked him off and the other slid a slim finger in and out of his ass.

        "Do you want to squirt that nice cum all over my face?" she had asked her lover as his breathing came faster and faster and his hips began jerking more rapidly in rhythm with her demanding hand.

        "Oh yeah, Pat..." he had moaned, "I want to cum all over you...on your face...on your tits...I want to spray you with my cum...it feels so good..."

        "Then do it baby, cum all over me, cum all over me!" she had commanded as her hand stroked his cock faster and faster. With a load groan, Monk exploded in orgasm, cum jetting out from his spasming cock and splattering Pat all over her eager face and firm, bronzed breasts, coating her with glistening milky drops, partially obscuring her coral nipples with a translucent sheen. Monk's third spurt Pat caught in her open mouth, pink tongue extended to catch the white tribute she was milking from her lover's dick. As Monk finished cumming and leaned back against the shower wall with a sigh, Pat ducked her head forward and licked up from the base of his dick to its head, collecting the gooey mess on her tongue, before ducking her head down further and, using her hands to lift her tits, licking her breasts clean of his jism before the rushing water could rinse it all away.

        Remembering the taste of Monk's juice in her mouth, Pat came hard in the shower, little guttural cries escaping her tensed lips, as she slammed the wet dildo in and out of her dripping twat and furiously rubbed her clit. Knees nearly buckling, she spasmed again and again, thrusting her hips back against the welcoming shaft which was being driven deeper and deeper into her, as waves of pleasure swept through her nubile body. Her talented fingers wildly continued their erotic dance of self gratification, frantically massaging her clit and cuntlips, eking out the final peaks of her climax. Finally, she slumped back exhausted, the porcelain proxy--its task completed--sliding gently out of her pussy and falling to the shower floor.

        After spending a few moments to relax and enjoy the euphoric glow which infused her shivering body, Pat reluctantly reached out and shut off the water before stepping out of the shower stall. Drying herself with a fluffy towel, she smiled down at Curlers.

        "Cat, I love you to pieces, but at times like these, I wish you were six foot tall and of a different species."

        Showing no sign that he had understood, Curlers just stared back at his mistress, waiting until she had dried her legs before he pounced forward and began rubbing himself contentedly along her calf, purring softly.

        "So, I'm not the only one who's purring, hmmm?" she laughed as she moved back into her bedroom to get dressed. Throwing on a white blouse and blue skirt, Pat completed her morning preparations by eating a quick breakfast while reading the morning paper, before brushing her long, silky hair. As usual, she did not apply any makeup. Not only was it unnecessary given her ravishing beauty, if she could have marketed the natural, healthy glow of her skin, she could have made a fortune.

        "Well, Curlers, it's time for mommy to go out into the big bright world," she said, as she knelt down on the floor by the front door and gathered her pet in her arms. "I have to go see how work is coming on the new part of the salon, so we can get it up and running and keep you in milk and gourmet cat food like you've become accustomed to." As she stroked the purring cat's fur, his little tongue rasped affectionately against Pat's hand.

        "Give mommy a kiss," Pat said, lifting the cat up where she could give him a peck on the forehead. "Now be a good kitty and don't make a complete mess of things."

        Pat released Curlers and rose to her feet. It was at that point, as Pat opened the door to leave for the day, that her pussycat whimpered.

        Chapter Two
        Pat Gets Her Licks In

        Curlers laid on the floor, mewing plaintively, feline eyes gazing at Pat begging (if that was possible for a cat) her not to leave him.

        For a moment Pat stared down at him, before--with an exasperated sigh--she bent down and picked him up.

        "You know you're not supposed to come with me to the salon," Pat scolded her pet, but the only reply she received was more mournful meowing. "Well, alright, the salon is closed today anyway, so I guess you can come with...but just this once, buster," she admonished, wagging a finger for emphasis.

        As she left her apartment, Curlers purred contentedly in Pat's arms. Taking the elevator to the parking garage, Pat loaded herself and her furry companion into her sedan. The vehicle was on loan from her cousin, who had deemed it dangerous for Pat to be tooling around New York City in a normal car. Of course, as the Man of Bronze had commented after experiencing her driving for the first time, it was dangerous for Pat to drive, period. To say she had an aggressive style would be an understatement, though her superb reflexes had--to this point--managed to prevent her from having any accidents.

        Today was no exception. With the weather warm and sunny, Pat reached the modernistic building on Park Avenue which housed her beauty establishment in only a few minutes and, pulling around back, parked the blue sedan at the mouth of the tunnel behind the building. She fumbled at the rear entrance for a moment for the proper key then, finding it, opened the door and stepped inside. Behind her, the door clicked shut. Turning on the lights, Pat bent down to release her now struggling burden.

        "There you go, you pesky cat," she laughed. "Explore all you like, but stay out of trouble!" As she wandered further into her salon, she mused to herself, "Stay out of trouble? Jeesh--I'd better watch it or I'll be sounding like Doc!" Curlers followed her with his eyes as she walked away, meowed once, and wandered off to investigate things.

        The Park Avenue Beautician--for that was the name of the lovely lady Savage's salon--was nearly as impressive looking as its owner. Chromium, enamel and plush, colored rugs created an air of modern opulence which Pat tried hard to cultivate. Normally, the place would be bustling in the morning, with stately, striking attendants taking care of all her fashionable clientele's beauty needs. In keeping with the atmosphere she was trying to create, Pat's female employees were invariably stunning in appearance. Pat did have some male clients, but as she had once told Doc, "I don't know whether they come to have their looks improved, or to flirt with my snappy assistants." However, the beauty of those assistants was overshadowed by the radiance of their boss.

        Today, however, the place was deserted. Pat was expanding the gymnasium which occupied the second story of her establishment, and Pat had closed the salon for a week until the work was completed, deeming it too noisy for her hoity toity customers. However, the workmen had not yet arrived this morning; out getting some supplies, Pat didn't expect them to show up for a couple more hours.

        Pat ambled through the main room of the salon to her private office, where she figured on putting in some time going through the books. Pat charged through the roof and, even better, got most of her money upfront, as her customers purchased exclusive memberships to the Park Avenue Beautician. Though she had a team of crack accountants, she liked to look through the figures herself once in a while, though she rarely had the opportunity when the place was jumping. This would be a good chance for her to catch up.

        Slipping her high-heeled shoes off her stocking feet, Pat swivelled in her chair and, putting her shapely feet up on the credenza behind her desk, began flipping through files. Though her demeanor might have seemed casual to an onlooker, her sharp eyes and keen mind were focused intently on her work, totally absorbed in her task in the empty salon.

        When the hand touched her shoulder, Pat nearly hit the roof.

        Exclaiming loudly, Pat shot out of the chair as if propelled and whipped around. The sight that met her golden eyes was a petite young woman, convulsed in laughter.

        "Gee, I'm so sorry Pat," the newcomer managed to choke out between her hysterics. "But if you could only see the way you jumped..." Another burst of mirth prevented her from continuing, as she clutched her sides.

        "Yea, very funny," shot Pat, though the corners of her delectable mouth had begun to turn upwards in a smile. "Honestly Melissa--you nearly startled me back to Canada!"

        The young woman Pat had addressed as Melissa wiped the tears from her eyes, fought to regain her breath. She was a diminutive vision, scarcely topping five feet, with long, lustrous black hair which fell nearly to her slim waist. Her matching eyes glistened with her tears. She was attired in a blue blouse and skirt outfit which showed off her svelte figure to tremendous advantage, revealing her shapely calves and accentuating her small but perky bosom.

        "I'm so sorry, you just seemed so intent, I couldn't resist."

        "I'll show you sorry, you little minx," Pat retorted. "You owe me big time for that, and I'll pay you back, just wait!"

        Feigning fright at the mock severity of Pat's tone, Melissa put a tiny hand to her mouth. "Oh please, Miss Savage, don't be too hard on me! I'll make it worth your while to forgive me, honest I will!"

        And so saying, she stepped forward. One of her slender arms snaked around Pat's waist, while the other reached up around Pat's neck.

        "Very much worth your while," Melissa muttered, as she turned her bright face up and pulled Pat's unresisting head down. Her ruby lips met Pat's in a kiss that went on for some time, slowly growing in passion. The pink tip of Melissa's tongue poked out, seeking entrance to Pat's mouth. The bronzed Venus willingly parted her lips, welcoming the intruder, as her own tongue crept forth to meet and play with the newcomer.

        One of Pat's "snappy assistants", Melissa Stone had developed a crush on the female Savage from the moment she'd first laid eyes on her. Determined to seduce her, she still wasn't sure if she hadn't been seduced herself, so quickly had their relationship moved beyond that of employer- employee or mere friendship. Though Pat hadn't yet told Monk about Melissa, she thought that he probably suspected something of the truth, based on comments he had made on more than one occasion about her "perfume" when she would return from the salon fresh from eating her young lover's delicious quim.

        Breaking the lingering kiss, one of Pat's hands lazily stroked Melissa's soft cheek, while the two gorgeous women caressed each other's backs.

        "Not that I'm complaining, love, but what are you doing here?" Pat asked.

        One of Melissa's hands moved around to Pat's front, where it decided that Pat's blouse being buttoned was a condition that was totally unacceptable which must be remedied. As her hand began its self-appointed task, Melissa replied, "Since things were closed down today and there wasn't going to be any noise from the work crew for awhile, I thought I'd take inventory."

        "I can see that you're taking inventory," Pat responded dryly, looking down at her blouse, which by this point had been entirely unbuttoned and pushed open, revealing her twin bronzed globes, temptingly encased in a lacy white brassiere.

        "Yes," murmured Melissa, as her hands slid along Pat's back to the clasp of her bra, unhooking it, before softly moving forward again and pushing the white lace over the top of Pat's breasts, cupping them in her tiny hands and gently kneading them. "And I'm happy to report, boss, that everything appears to be present and accounted for."

        "Well, I'd say you were a model employee, but I don't think you've made a thorough enough inspection yet..." teased Pat, her words cut off by a sigh as Melissa's fingers began tweaking her nipples, hardening the red tips. The bronzed knockout loved the sensations coursing through her vibrant body as her pretty lover's fingers teased her twin peaks into rockhard erectness.

        "Then I guess I'll just have to inspect things even more thoroughly," replied Melissa, bending her head forward only slightly to bring her lips close to Pat's breasts. With their height difference, Melissa's face was nearly level with her lover's tits. Her warm breath washed over them, causing Pat to tingle even more. Melissa licked her lips sensually, wetting them while glancing up at Pat, before bending forward the final few inches and taking Pat's right nipple into her mouth.

        Low moans escaped Pat as Melissa slowly sucked more of Pat's bronzed globe in, her wet little tongue flicking hungrily at Pat's growing bud. With a soft "pop!" Melissa's mouth slid off of Pat's right breast, and she slowly trailed her tongue across Pat's chest, which was heaving slightly, until she reached her left breast. Melissa slowly teased Pat's left tit, nuzzling it, circling the nipple with her pink tongue, all the while the fingers of one of her hands caressed and pinched Pat's turgid right peak. Moaning from the exquisite sensations, Pat reached around and put a strong hand behind her sapphic friend's head, entwining her fingers in her glossy black hair as she pulled Melissa's mouth down firmer on her breast, causing her to suck more of it, glistening with Melissa's saliva, into the warm wetness of her mouth. "That's it, baby," she muttered, partly to herself, partly to her lover. "Suck my tits, 'Lissa, suck them into that wonderful mouth..."

        As she eagerly complied with this directive--Pat was her boss, after all!--Melissa's other hand was not idle. By this time it had pulled Pat's blue skirt up, bunching it around her waist, revealing her lacy garter belt and panties. As Pat's breath quickened, Melissa's fingers slid slowly across her muscular thighs, caressing the smooth flesh. Leaning against the back of her chair, Pat parted her legs slightly, eagerly awaiting Melissa's touch on that most private part of her body. As Melissa continued to suckle and knead Pat's tits, her hand slowly continued its tantalizing journey, finally reaching its goal and cupping Pat's scantily covered mons venus. She pressed her fingers into the soft, yielding flesh, feeling with pleasure the dampness which was soaking through Pat's sky-blue panties, a dampness which was matched by the growing wetness between her own thighs. Pat shuddered and pushed her hips forward, trying to increase the stimulation.

        Melissa's demanding mouth slowly slid off Pat's gleaming breast. Smiling at Pat's whimpers of disappointment, she shyly glanced up at her lithe lover. "Why don't you sit down, my oh so pretty Patty, and I can do this the way it should be done."

        "Your wish is my command, 'Lissa dear," said Pat, as she spun the chair around and sat down. Seated, Pat was a vision to make a man's eyes water. Her face was flushed, bronze hair dishevelled from the fingers that Melissa had run through it, breath coming in short, rapid gasps, red lips slightly parted. Her white blouse was hanging entirely open, no longer tucked in her skirt, while her lacy white bra rested on top of her breasts--perfect bronzed globes which glistened from the oral ministrations of Melissa's wet mouth, their twin coral peaks standing at attention, just waiting to salute her talented tongue again. Her blue skirt was pulled up around her waist, revealing the tops of her stockings and the expanse of young thigh laying between them and Pat's garter belt and panties, which were wet with the juices flowing from her hot twat. Lustfully, Pat gazed down at the petite young woman kneeling submissively before her, trembling in anticipation of the erotic delights which were to come.

        Many were the times that Melissa had brought Pat to a crashing climax by orally pleasuring her pussy. She loved it when, at the moment of orgasm, Pat's muscular, glistening thighs gripped her head, demanding that her skillful lips and tongue satisfy Pat's desires. Today, however, Melissa had something a little different in mind for her lustful companion.

        Kneeling on the floor before her lover, staring up at her, Melissa slowly ran both of her hands up Pat's stocking clad calves, stroking them sensually through the fabric, before continuing their erotic journey along the inside of Pat's thighs, the muscles of which twitched slightly as her fingers lightly caressed them. Reaching Pat's panties, she grasped them and, motioning with her head for Pat to lift her ass slightly from the chair, pulled them away from her steaming pussy, revealing the trimmed thatch of bronze hair topping her pretty pink slit. Melissa could smell Pat's arousal, turning her on even more as she played with her lover. Rolling the panties down Pat's legs, Melissa pressed them against her nose and inhaled deeply the intoxicating scent of Pat's juices, before discarding them on the floor of Pat's office. Melissa's hands crept forward again, grasping Pat's knees and forcing them open, wide open, causing each leg to hang off an arm of the chair, spreadeagling Pat's thighs and giving her a perfect view of her favorite pussy in the world.

        Breath coming faster and faster, Pat loved watching her lover slowly, tantalizingly moving her hands along her taut body, inching and closer and closer to her womanhood. Pat's own hands went out to caress her breasts, tweaking her hard nipples as she watched the young woman staring intently at her cunt, feeling the wetness dripping out of her and beginning to pool on the seat of the chair.

        "Aaahhh..." came Pat's trembling whimpers, escaping from moistened lips, as Melissa's fingers reached Pat's pussy. A hand resting on each of Pat's strong thighs, Melissa's fingertips toyed idly for a moment with the bronze pubic hair, then moved on to gently play with Pat's labia, before finally spreading her cuntlips wide, exposing her eagerly waiting clit, stretching Pat's moist cavern open. Melissa bent far forward, placing her face scant inches from the bronze muff, inhaling Pat's musk and staring avidly at the sopping cunt, taking in every luscious detail.

        "Why you naughty little girl," scolded Melissa as one of her fingers began to slosh around in Pat's wetness. "Whatever are you thinking?"

        Her only reply from Pat was more groans, which increased in tempo when Melissa suddenly drove a finger deep into the young girl's trembling body, encasing it in a satiny oven. Staring intently, Melissa hungrily watched her finger disappearing into Pat's lovehole, while Pat continued to pinch her nipples, gazing raptly at the erotic display before her, loving the sight and feel of the twisting finger plunging into her.

        "That's it 'Lissa," Pat moaned. "Use your fingers on me baby...fuck me with your fingers..."

        Pat's love juice was flowing freely as Melissa reluctantly moved her face away from the pussy whose depths she was plumbing with her digit. Continuing to slide a finger, now joined by a second, in and out of Pat's hot cunt, while other fingers danced across Pat's slippery clit, Melissa slid her slim body up Pat's until her mouth was once again at breast level. Sticking out her pretty pink tongue, the young brunette's mouth lovingly laved the statuesque adventuress' breasts, moving from one to the other, all the while her fingers played in Pat's wet grotto.

        "Oh god," groaned Pat. "What...aaahhh...what are you doing?" Pat cried out, as her diminutive lover slipped a third finger into her pussy.

        "If you don't like it you can stop me," grinned Melissa wickedly, slowly withdrawing her trio of fingers from Pat's slick cavern.

        "No, no..." Pat pleaded. Panting, dishevelled, she begged, "Don't stop, don't stop, you evil little wench! Use your fingers some more...fuck me good...unngghhh..."

        Pressing her three fingers together, Melissa had driven them back, hard, into Pat's pussy. Though her fingers were petite like the rest of her, three of them filled Pat nicely as she squirmed on the chair, welcoming the intruders deeper and deeper into her hot core.

        Melissa began moving her mouth back and forth between her lover's firm breasts, sucking briefly on an eager nipple before moving on to flick her talented tongue across its crimson twin. Pat's fingers were loosely entwined in Melissa's hair, feeling her lover move from tit to tit, but her grip tightened spasmodically as she felt her young assistant slip a fourth finger in with her other three, sliding slickly back and forth in her honeyed cunt, while the fingers of Melissa's other hand spread Pat's wetness all around her clit, mercilessly teasing the hard little nub.

        Pat's moans grew in intensity as she climbed towards orgasm, feeling herself being filled up by Melissa's fingers, loving the young woman's tongue twirling around her nipples, her love juices flowing freely as she humped her pelvis against those wonderful fingers, lifting her ass off the wet chair to force them in deeper.

        Sliding her fingers out of Pat's pussy for a moment, Melissa carefully folded her thumb against her other fingers and slowly began to push all five fingers into the bronze knockout's heated cunt. Pat's mouth opened wide, but all that came out were mewling noises at first, before she managed to choke out between her gasps, "God...'Lissa...that feels fantastic!" Melissa pulled away briefly from licking Pat's tits, to watch as her whole hand began to disappear into the steaming twat. Pat watched as well, her body racked with spasms as she watched the petite woman's hand sliding into her. She screamed in ecstasy as she felt Melissa's knuckles slide in past her opening, as the dripping slit swallowed her entire hand. "Oh god...oh god...aaaggghhh!"

        Slowly, so as not to hurt her--her hand was tiny, but the fit was extraordinarily tight!--Melissa began pumping her fist in and out of Pat's pussy, watching it vanish inside her satiny walls, going deeper and deeper until her wrist was inside the heated cunt on each downstroke.

        Pat was going crazy as Melissa resumed sucking on her tits, feeling herself being fucked by Melissa's fist. Her half naked body quivering, covered in a sheen of perspiration, Pat's moans grew louder and louder, interspersed with her cries of, "Fuck me, fuck me!", which she began repeating nearly incoherently like a mantra, building up to a plateau.

        Finally her overworked body could take no more. Pat screamed, "Make me cum!", a demand that was cut off by staccato moans as the intense sensations caused by Melissa's fist being rammed up her twat pushed her over the edge.

        Pat exploded. Her lithe form stiffened involuntarily, straightening up, driving her ass off the chair, forcing that wonderful hand full inside her. With a shout of, "Aaagghhh! I'm cumming!", Pat came hard, her body shaking uncontrollably like a palm tree in a hurricane.

        Melissa redoubled her efforts, sucking Pat's engorged nipples into her moist mouth, frantically rubbing her lover's clit with her fingers, while pistoning her fist in and out of the spasming cunt, making wet, sloshing sounds, filling the air with Pat's musky scent. Pat stuffed one hand into her mouth, stifling her cries of ecstasy, as she convulsed wildly, cumming and cumming again, her throes of passion nearly forcing her off the chair as her peaks followed on top of each other. Shining eyes open and staring as she brought her lover off, Melissa loved watching Pat's beautiful face contort with the pleasure of her orgasms, bronze hair whipping to and fro, loved hearing the inarticulate cries she was wringing from her lover's body, loved the fragrence of Pat's honey which filled the air.

        Finally Pat slumped back in the chair, her body drained from her climaxes.

        "God 'Lissa, that was incredible, just incredible. I just couldn't stop cumming and cumming...my whole body felt like it was going to burst."

        Moving back into a kneeling position, smiling, Melissa carefully withdrew her hand from its velvety enclosure, all wet and covered in Pat's honey to past her wrist. "I'm glad you approved, love," she replied as she brought her hand to her face and inhaled Pat's scent deeply before extending her little pink tongue to begin lapping off the juices.

        "Ummm," Melissa murmured as she cleaned her lover's wetness off her hand, "This almost makes me sorry I didn't dine on your snatch. Care for some?" she asked, extending her arm towards Pat's face.

        "Why you naughty girl!" laughed Pat. "Whatever do you take me for?"

        "I take you for my horny, sexy boss!"

        Grabbing the offered hand, Pat began to slowly suck each of Melissa's fingers--still slick with Pat's juices-- into her hungry mouth, teasing Melissa with her tongue flicking across the sensitive skin. Pat loved the taste of her own pussy. "Well I guess you're right about that," Pat admitted. "And I bet you'll never guess what this appetizer I'm tasting right now has put me in the mood for..."

        Her own pussy juices gushing from having just made her lover cum, Melissa eagerly replied, "I was kind of hoping you'd feel that way!"

        As both young women rose to their feet, Pat glanced at the clock in her office.

        "Damn!"

        "What's the matter, love?"

        "The time! The workmen will be showing up in a few minutes, and they'll be looking for me in this office--I need to tell them about some additional work I want them to do."

        Trying to hide the crestfallen look that had entered her eyes, Melissa glanced down. "It's alright," she said. "Really it is. I loved making you come--I'll get my turn later!"

        Stepping forward, Pat--her shirt still open, lace bra resting on top of her still glistening bronze breasts, bronze hair in disarray--put her hands on the petite woman's waist.

        "I promise I'll thank you thoroughly later, my darling little 'Lissa. But for now..." With a jerk, Pat lifted her young lover completely off the floor, dropping her ass down on her desk, an impressive feat of strength. "...I'll just have to give you a sample of your reward."

        Melissa loved it when her lover showed off her brawn. "Just what did you have in mind?" she asked coyly, batting her long black eyelashes.

        "Just watch," came the reply. Pat pushed Melissa back on the desk, then, grabbing her legs, pulled her forward so that her shapely ass, clad in dark blue panties which were drenched with Melissa's juices, rested on the edge of the desk. Pat pushed Melissa's skirt up over her waist.

        Her hands wrapped around the elastic in Melissa's panties. "I'll buy you another pair later," she promised, and with a sudden wrench, ripped the soaked panties from her lover's body, revealing the pretty young muff underneath. Topped by a thatch of black fur, Melissa's delectable quim was dripping.

        "I love it when you're rough, boss," commented Melissa, her nubile body squirming slightly at what she knew was coming up, loving the thought of Pat taking her, pleasuring her.

        "Just shut up and cum on my tongue," commanded Pat as, kneeling on the floor, she placed a tanned leg over each shoulder and bent down, planting her mouth firmly over Melissa's hot cunt, causing Melissa to gasp loudly. "Oh yes, Pat!" she cried as she felt the wet mouth upon her pussy.

        Pat loved to eat Melissa's cunt--almost as much as Melissa loved it. Normally, Pat would pursue her task leisurely, licking Melissa's thighs, teasing her with her tongue, sliding it up and down the delicious slit, moving it all around her pretty cuntlips, lapping up her love juices, until her sapphic lover begged her to go faster. Today, however, she had no time. Pat settled down to with singlemindedness to the task of bringing her lover off as quick as she could.

        Warm mouth pressed against the young woman's snatch, Pat's moist pink tongue flicked out, finding Melissa's waiting clit, twirling around it. Uttering an inarticulate cry, Melissa's hands reached down and fondled Pat's head, fingers entwining themselves in the dishevelled bronze hair, pulling Pat's mouth tighter against her steaming womanhood as her muscular thighs closed and trapped Pat in place. Pat's own hands assisted, grabbing Melissa's thighs and forcing her mouth more firmly down on the waiting cunt.

        "Oh god," Melissa cried out, as she felt Pat's tongue alternately sliding in and out of her and licking her clitoris, demanding that she come on her mouth. "That's it baby...eat me...eat my pussy...aaagghh!" she moaned, thrusting her hips against Pat's busy lips and tongue, feeling her climax rapidly approaching through the oral ministrations of the bronzed beauty.

        Pat sucked Melissa's clit into her hot wet mouth, sucking it in and out, lashing her tongue across it rapidly, driving sharp stabs of pleasure throughout the young woman's quivering body, inhaling the sweet aroma of her lover's dampness. The swift assault was too much for the pretty young brunette.

        "I'm cumming!" Melissa screamed, locking her fingers in Pat's hair, taut thighs and hands holding that wonderful tongue and lips and mouth in place as Pat ate her out. Her hips jerked wildly, shudder after shudder passing through her, as her orgasm rippled through her vibrant body, revelling in the intense sensations Pat was creating in her. Finally, giving a final quivering moan, her tense body collapsed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands fell away from Pat's head, as the salon owner gently pushed Melissa's thighs apart and stood up, her lips and cheeks glistening from her assistant's love juices. Pat moved around the desk then bent down to kiss Melissa, running her tongue into the reclining girl's mouth, feeding her her own juices, as Pat had tasted her own before.

        "That's just a sample of what I owe you, 'Lissa--and I intend to pay in full!"

        "I'm not sure I'll survive," grinned Melissa. "But I'm willing to give it a shot!"

        Getting to their feet, the two young women rapidly rearranged their clothes into some semblance of respectability, with Melissa's damp panties getting tucked into Pat's purse, so that, in Pat's words, "Some night when I'm horny and all alone, I can take them out. I'll inhale your scent while I'm playing with my pussy and imagine that it's your fingers, not mine, that are making me cum!"

        They then wandered hand and hand into the washroom to freshen up. While in there, they could hear the rear door of the salon open.

        "The workmen must be here," commented Pat. "I've got to go talk to them--there's some additional work I want them to do in the gym. See you in a few." Giving her lover one last lingering kiss, Pat left the washroom, her flowing bronze tresses once more fashionably in place. Finishing cleaning up, Melissa could hear muffled voices, as Pat apparently spoke with the workmen, which faded away as they walked upstairs to the gym.

        In a lazy mood after the delicious orgasm Pat's lips and tongue had coaxed out of her, Melissa strolled out of the ladies room and plopped herself down in one of the beauty chairs, picking up a magazine through which she idly flipped while waiting for Pat to come back downstairs. After a few moments, Pat's long legs could be seen descending the stairs. A startled gasp from Pat caused Melissa to look up, seeing Pat standing on the stairs looking towards the open rear door of the salon, which had been propped open by the workmen in order to bring in supplies.

        "Curlers!" cried Pat. "I brought him with me to the salon...where is he?!"

        Jumping out of the chair, Melissa joined Pat in frantically looking for and calling the cat, but after a few minutes' search he was nowhere to be found.

        "He must have wandered outside!" anguished Pat. "I'll kick myself if anything happens to him! 'Lissa, go out front and see if he's on Park Avenue. I'll go check the tunnel in back and the sidestreet. If he's not there, I'll swing 'round with the car and pick you up and we'll drive around looking for him."

        Shouting out encouragement that they would find Pat's pet, the pretty young brunette raced out the front door, while Pat made for the rear. Halfway there, she cursed, "My keys!" and rushed back into her office, grabbing her purse, before flying back out. Rushing outside, Pat glanced out the tunnel mouth by her car. No cat. She could hear Melissa calling for Curlers out front. Looking down the tunnel, away from the sidestreet, Pat couldn't see Curlers either...but she heard a noise. She ran down the tunnel and cried with relief, "Curlers!" as she saw her cat investigating a garbage can.

        Scooping him up, she scolded him. "Bad cat! Bad! You gave mommy a big scare. Shame on you!" Cradling her feline friend to her chest, she continued, "Don't you know you're not supposed to go outside? Come on, let's go tell Auntie 'Lissa that we found you."

        Pat had nearly reached the mouth of the tunnel when she heard a commotion on the street. People were yelling. Came the sound of gunfire. Pat raced up the tunnel the final few yards to see a group of men piling out of the building across the street into two sedans, firing back into the building as they fled. One of the men was handcuffed and was thrown into a car by two others. With a squeal of rubber, the two cars shot away from the curb.

        Pat's face broke into a wide grin. "All right! Action!" she enthused, as she fairly flew to her parked sedan, tossing Curlers in the passenger seat and hopping in. Gunning the engine, she tore away from the curb into traffic, wrenching her car around in a u-turn to follow the other two vehicles.

        A massive explosion rocked the car. An invisible hand seemed to come down and smash into the pavement, lifting Pat's sedan from the road. The bronzed adventuress fought to maintain control.

        Across the street, a titanic blast had rocked the building that the men had fled from. Windows shattered outward, bricks flew through the air with lethal force. The whole facade of the structure seemed to disintegrate before Pat's eyes as, with a mighty roar, the building collapsed in an enormous, billowing cloud of dust.

        Debris struck Pat's car, bricks slamming into the sedan's side and windows, pounding it like an artillery barrage.

        It was fortunate for Pat that Doc had loaned her one of his cars. Armored, with bulletproof windows, the sedan was a veritable tank. While other cars on the street were being totally demolished from the force of the blast and the flying wreckage, the sedan shielded Pat.

        Slamming back down on the torn pavement, Pat ripped the wheel to avoid flipping the car over, barely steering clear of the larger chunks of falling debris.

        Face grim, she made it past the destruction zone and punched the accelerator. The sedan leapt forward, like a giant hunting cat. Passing Park Avenue, Pat glanced over and was relieved to see Melissa standing unharmed, though with a startled expression on her face.

        There was no telling how many people had died, how many others had been hurt, in that blast, but Pat would bet that those men in the cars she was following were responsible.

        Like a bronzed avenger, Pat weaved through traffic, slowly closing the distance between herself and her quarry. Racing through intersections, all three vehicles broke every traffic law on the books. Pat had narrowed the gap to a couple of car lengths when the roar of a machinegun broke out and hot lead caromed off her windshield. Spotting their pursuer, the occupants of the fleeing cars had opened fire on Pat. The Man of Bronze's armor was up to the test, deflecting round after round. Bullets bounced harmlessly off solid rubber tires as Pat inched ever closer to her prey.

        Though she was furious at the wanton disregard for human life which the men she was chasing had shown, inside, Pat was ecstatic. The Savage love for adventure had come to the fore and she was caught up in the thrill of the moment, red blood coursing through her veins.

        "So you want to play rough?" she snarled, reaching down on the floor to grab her purse where it had fallen. Reaching in, Pat withdrew an enormous, much-worn single- action six-shooter. Rolling down a window, Pat began to bang away at the thugs ahead, seemingly not caring about the disparity in firepower.

        With the speed of the three vehicles as they wove through traffic, Pat wasn't sure if she'd hit them, but there was no indication she was doing any serious damage.

        Ahead of her, the rear car raced through an intersection against the light, barely avoiding hitting a truck coming through the cross-street. Passing the truck, the machinegunner turned his weapon on the truck, blowing out its tires. The driver lost control of his truck. The vehicle flipped over on its side. Crashing into a lightpole, it blocked the intersection.

        Pat slammed on the brakes, saw she was going too fast to stop, and wrenched the wheel to the left. The car spun around, tires squealing. The side of her car smashed into the truck, bringing it to a sudden halt. No sooner had the vehicle stopped moving than Pat was out of the car. In her hand she gripped a gun she had taken from the glove compartment of the sedan, a supermachine pistol invented by her cousin.

        Using her car as a stepping stone, Pat leapt on top of the side of the truck. The two sedans she had been chasing were rapidly receding in the distance. Aiming with both hands, she let loose with a volley at the rear car. The bullfiddle roar of the supermachine pistol filled the air. The noise was nearly deafening. Even though carrying a 66 bullet magazine, the rapidfirer's ammo was exhausted in a matter of seconds. Although the gunfire appeared to have no effect on the rear car, as both vehicles continued to race away, Pat smiled as if satisfied.

        With a groan, the truck driver crawled out of the wreckage of his vehicle, bleeding from some cuts but seemingly not seriously injured.

        In the distance Pat could hear the roar of police sirens. Although the Man of Bronze was known to all law enforcement officials--and indeed held an honorary commission in the New York Police Department--his beautiful cousin did not have his credentials. Deeming it prudent to be far away from her current location when the constabulary arrived there, Pat dropped back down to pavement, climbed back in the car and proceeded to make herself scarce.

        As the sedan sped away from the scene, from the backseat--where he'd been thrown when the car was tossed by the blast--Curlers meowed mournfully. It was a meow which seemed to say that it was unlikely he would ever want to accompany his mistress outside of her apartment ever again.

        Chapter Three
        Bronze Huntress

        Like a colossus, the skyscraper towered over the City of Manhattan. A gleaming spike of steel and brick over one hundred stories tall, topped by a dirigible mooring mast, it dwarfed the structures around it into insignificance.

        On the 86th floor of this impressive building, an elevator door opened. Her face flush with excitement, an entrancing Venus stepped out. Walking towards the end of the corridor, Pat Savage approached a door on which a bronze colored panel said simply, "CLARK SAVAGE, JR." Before she could reach it, it swung open automatically.

        The 86th floor of the skyscraper--the top floor, the remainder of the structure's height being composed of the mooring mast--was the headquarters of the Man of Bronze and his aides. Or, at any rate, their headquarters when they were in New York. That they were absent from the Big Apple did not pose any problems for the bronze man's cousin; in fact, it made her task much easier.

        The door's opening mechanism had been activated by a radioactive token carried by Pat in her purse. Doc and his crew all carried such tokens and, somewhat grudgingly Pat had felt at the time, Doc had given Pat one as well. Entering the reception room of Doc's HQ, Pat swiftly turned off the traps which Doc had set for any unwary and unwelcome intruders before continuing on into Doc's laboratory.

        The Man of Bronze was one of the world's greatest inventors, and in his 86th floor aerie he maintained a laboratory which had only one equal--a secret lab contained in his Fortress of Solitude in the North Pole, to which he would periodically retire. Here, high above the city, Doc Savage, sometimes working alone, sometimes working with Monk and Long Tom--who were among the world's leading experts in chemistry and electricity--had designed devices decades ahead of their time. Although many of these inventions had been created for peaceful uses to benefit mankind, a number were destructive in nature, and it was for these that Pat had come.

        Following the car chase, Pat had returned to the salon to find that, while some windows had been blown out in the blast, the damage was minimal. Melissa was relieved to find Pat unharmed, as the airwaves were full of reports, not only on the explosion, but on a running gunfight, which Melissa had deduced involved her thrillseeking lover. As of yet, the radio had offered no explanation for the destruction of the building, and there had been no mention of anyone being kidnapped--notwithstanding that Pat had seen a handcuffed man forced into one of the sedans.

        Pat spent some time at the salon arranging for repairs to be made. Then, leaving her capable young assistant with further instructions regarding the establishment, Pat left for her apartment.

        Reaching home without further incident, Pat had taken a quick shower to unwind a bit before planning her next moves. Then, dismissing a skirt and blouse as impractical for the task at hand, she put on pants and a shirt. Tucked into her pants, the shirt was pulled taut over her impressive chest, molding itself to her proud, jutting breasts, and she had turned more than one head as she had left her building late afternoon and caught a taxi to her cousin's hangout. As far as Pat was concerned, the fun was just beginning--trouble had reared its head and with Doc out of town, there was no one to stop her from jumping into it feet first. She loved it. However, when looking for trouble it was best to be prepared, and Pat knew just where to go to solve that problem.

        In Doc's laboratory, Pat made a beeline for some storage cabinets. On her way there though, she paused for a moment, a devilish grin lighting up her countenance making her even more radiant, as she spied a table in the lab. She wondered to herself with a silent laugh what her esteemed cousin would think if he knew that not more than three weeks ago, she had lain stretched out on that very same table, half-naked, while Monk rammed his hard cock up her tight wet pussy. Stopping by the lab to see Doc, he had briefly been called away, leaving her alone for a short while with her lover. The idea had come to both her and Monk at the same time. Clothing flew. In a matter of moments she and Monk were enjoying a spirited fuck, the sexual sensations heightened by the forbidden location of their romp. Long bronzed legs wrapped around her lover, Pat had quickly and noisily cum as Monk plumbed her depths with his thick dick, pinning her ass down against the hard desk as he slammed into her wet and willing body. With a roar, Monk had deposited a load of jism deep into her dripping pussy a short time later. They had just straightened everything back up when her cousin returned. Pat had barely kept from succumbing to an attack of the giggles as she had talked to Doc, speculating to herself about the look of shock that would have crossed his impassive face if he had known that not only had Monk's cum just filled her cunt, it was now beginning to slowly drip out of her moist slit and down the inside of her muscular thighs. Fortunately, she had left his lofty abode with the Man of Bronze none the wiser.

        With a sigh, Pat continued on through the lab--now was no time to reminisce! Opening a storage cabinet, Pat withdrew several items, including one of Doc's equipment vests. These vests contained an amazing array of devices which had gotten Doc out of any number of jams. Slipping the vest on over her shirt, Pat immediately felt a great deal more confident about her planned course of action.

        From the cabinet, Pat crossed over to a secret compartment. This compartment concealed a pneumatic passenger tube which Monk had nicknamed the "flea run." Once inside the passenger car, the contraption plummeted earthwards with blinding speed past 86 floors, down into the sub-basement of the skyscraper. The Man of Bronze had spent a fortune designing and implementing the system, only one of several ways he had constructed of exiting his headquarters secretly and in haste.

        Entering the car, Pat hurtled downwards but instead of stopping at the bottom, the tube curved, shooting its occupant westward under the streets of the city. Above, the life of New York City went on, pedestrians and drivers alike bustling about their business, street vendors hawking their wares, completely unaware that beneath their feet a pneumatic tube was carrying a passenger through the metropolis at a speed they could only dream about. Finally, the passenger car slowed and came to a stop. It had reached its destination on 34th Street by the Hudson River.

        Exiting the car, Pat found herself in a cavernous warehouse. If one had been travelling with the bronze beauty and had ventured outside, he would have seen a gigantic construct of red brick, with no windows, bearing the sign HIDALGO TRADING COMPANY. It would not have looked terribly impressive. Inside, however, the warehouse was filled with a bewildering array of vehicles, ranging from various types of aircraft, including a dirigible, to an assortment of boats and ships. The Hidalgo Trading Company was wholly owned by Doc Savage, and the warehouse housed the incredible mix of vehicles--many of his own design--which he had assembled to assist him in his fight against crime. It was here that Pat had come to obtain the final piece needed for her plan.

        Moving stealthily through the yawning structure, Pat reached her destination, an autogyro. Swiftly she stowed the gear she had obtained from Doc's headquarters, before doing a quick once-over of the vehicle to make sure there weren't any problems. For obvious reasons, Doc maintained his fleet in tiptop shape, but for once in her life, Pat decided to err on the side of caution.

        Intent on examining the autogyro, Pat was taken by surprise when a loud voice suddenly cried out, "Who's there? Don't move!" Startled, Pat lifted her head and banged it into the metal of the vehicle. With a few colorful curses which would doubtless have caused the bronze man to turn red, she put a hand to her head and turned around.

        Before she could answer, the beam of a flashlight stabbed her, the owner of the flashlight walking towards her. Blinking into the light, she shielded her eyes from the glare and, squinting, tried to see who was approaching, but all she could make out was a blurry figure. As the owner of the voice got nearer, the shape resolved into that of a man, carrying not only a flashlight but also a gun, both of which were pointed at Pat.

        "Chuck, is that you?" asked Pat.

        "Oh, Miss Savage!" came the reply. By now the man was near enough not only to recognize Pat's voice but to see her clearly as well. Having eyed her voluptuous figure, there was no mistaking her identity. "I'm sorry, I didn't see it was you." So saying, the man holstered his firearm. "What are you doing here?"

        Charles Howard--or Chuck as Pat had termed him--was one of the watchmen who Doc Savage employed to safeguard the warehouse. As such, Pat had met him on several occasions when she had visited the location with Doc.

        Years ago, Chuck had been a crook. Crossing paths with Doc Savage, his life had changed forever. The Man of Bronze did not turn over to the police criminals who he captured during the course of his work. Instead, they were sent to a sanitarium which he operated in upstate New York Here, at Doc's "Crime College", a delicate brain operation was performed which wiped out all memories of the criminal's past. The College's "students" were then retrained in a productive field and, graduating, were returned to the world where they became useful and law abiding members of society. The treatment was highly effective, and not one of the former criminals who had undergone it had ever returned to a life of crime. Chuck was one such graduate of the Crime College, and after he had been released he had, like several of his fellows, been employed by Doc.

        "Oh, nothing much," answered Pat, flashing him a winning smile. "I just need to borrow one of my cousin's vehicles for a while. Nothing to trouble yourself about," she finished in an offhand manner.

        As Pat spoke, a stricken look came over Chuck's face. He gnawed his lower lip worryingly. "Awww, Miss Savage...I'd love to help you...but I don't think you're allowed to do that. Doc gave me instructions--only him or his men..."

        "But Chuck," breathed Pat, stepping closer to the watchman, tossing her bronzed tresses with a slight flick of her head. One slender hand drifted out, almost aimlessly, and began toying with the front of his shirt. "I've gotten involved in lots of Doc's adventures. It's like I'm one of his crew--and even more, I'm his cousin!"

        Blushing furiously, Chuck stammered as Pat's wandering fingers ignited his skin, seeming to burn his flesh wherever they alighted. "G-g-gee, Miss Savage...I just don't know!" The last was said with a bit of a yelp as the tall, stunning vision moved closer to him and began to run the manicured fingers of her other hand through his hair. "Maybe you're right--but I just don't know."

        "Well, why don't you think about it for a few minutes," whispered Pat seductively, a glint in her golden eyes. "Think real hard about it..." she sighed, slowly wetting her full, crimson lips with the tip of her pink tongue. As she spoke, one hand slid down Chuck's trembling body and squeezed his erection. "...while I see what sort of weapon you're hiding here. We don't want you to hurt anyone with this, now do we?"

        Pat slowly dropped to her knees before the amazed watchman, running her strong hands along his thighs before beginning to unbuckle and unzip his pants. Scarcely crediting his eyes, Chuck stared in shocked amazement at the tableau unfolding before him as his dick sprang free of its enclosure and bobbed eagerly in front of the young woman.

        "Miss Savage...Pat...I'm not sure...OH JESUS!" Chuck exclaimed, as the bronzed haired beauty leaned forward and, opening her luscious lips wide, slowly sucked his hard cock into her hot mouth. The wet, velvety feel of her tongue as she slowly swallowed his length was incredible.

        Reaching the base of his throbbing erection, Pat slid her mouth nearly all the way off of him, leaving his prick shining with her saliva, before beginning to bob her head up and down, sucking on his cock. As her lips slid along the shaft, her agile tongue licked along it, paying particularly loving attention to its head as she began each downstroke, licking little drops of pre-cum from its slit.

        Chuck was stunned as he watched the bronzed beauty's luscious red lips envelop his steel hard cock, felt her talented tongue teasing and caressing him, felt the hot, wet suction coaxing him to come.

        After one upstroke, Pat momentarily lifted her mouth off him, batted her eyes at him and asked coyly, "So, do you like my sucking on your cock?"

        "Oh God, yes! Please, Miss Savage...I mean Pat...please suck me some more!"

        Pat eagerly got back to the task at hand, causing Chuck to groan in pleasure. The sensation was incredible. Pat loved to give blowjobs and she was an expert fellacitrix. Her busy mouth elicited moan after moan from the unbelieving watchman, whose hands had gently gripped her head as it bobbed up and down on his cock.

        The sight of Doc's cousin with his dick buried in her pretty little mouth, and the sensations it was causing, soon proved too much for Pat's willing victim.

        Chuck managed to gasp, "I...I...I'm cumming!" as he shot off into her mouth, ramming his cock down her throat, coating her tonsils with his creamy spunk. Spurt after spurt of his hot cum was swallowed eagerly by the kneeling young woman, tongue lapping up each jet as it ejaculated forth, fingers playing with his sac to coax more out of him. Pat loved the taste of cum, loved to swallow it as she felt a cock cumming in her mouth, paying frothy tribute to her oral skills.

        To Chuck, his orgasm at the mouth of the suckling young woman seemed to last an eternity. Finally his balls were emptied and with a soft "plop!" his softening dick slid out of Pat's mouth. Grinning, she gazed up at him, a trace of his cum glistening on the outside of her lower lip.

        "So Chuck, what do you think? Are you sure I can't just borrow my cousin's autogyro for a little while? I really need it--and I promise to take tender loving care of it."

        Slightly embarrassed, Chuck hurriedly zipped up. "Well, seeing as you're Doc's cousin and all, and practically one of his men--I mean crew!--I don't think Doc would mind. He never said you, specifically, couldn't use his stuff. If he'd thought of it when he was talking to me, I'm sure he would have okayed it."

        "Thanks, Chuck, you're a doll!" exclaimed Pat, rising to her feet and giving him a quick peck, causing him to once more blush furiously.

        "Awww...Miss Savage...that's okay," he managed to choke out, nervously shuffling his feet.

        Considering that she had just sucked him off, Pat thought it was kind of sweet that he still called her Miss Savage. She decided to leave quickly, before the guard could change his mind. Climbing into the vehicle, she called for him to open the hangar doors. Taxiing out of the warehouse, Pat sent the craft leaping skyward. While not quite as expert a pilot as Doc and many of his men were, she was a more than capable flier.

        Pat swiftly sped over the darkening city, the twilight pierced by the blaze of streetlights and headlights, by light poring out of building windows, as the pulse of the teeming metropolis beat into the early night. Within a matter of moments she reached the intersection where she'd crashed into the truck during the chase. There she donned a set of bulky goggles and threw a switch on the autogyro's control panel. Immediately, Pat could see a glowing blue trail, beginning where she'd hit the fleeing vehicle with the bullets from the supermachine pistol, and continuing faintly down the street.

        Flying high above the metropolis, the bronzed huntress followed the spectral trail of her quarry. The supermachine pistol had been loaded with a special drum of bullets, designed by Doc Savage, containing a mixture which was invisible to the unaided eye but which marked its presence as a glowing blue when lit by the ultraviolet light mounted to the bottom of the autogyro and viewed through special lenses. The substance left a trail in its wake which would, however, soon dissipate--after a day or so under normal conditions, sooner if there was rain. To help him locate Pat if she ever got in trouble, Doc had given the supermachine pistol and its special ammo to Pat and explained its use. Though seemingly nearly omniscient, it is doubtful the Man of Bronze could have foreseen the results of his action. Instead of helping to protect her from trouble, his device was now leading his adventure- loving cousin deeper into it!

        Whirring away, the autogyro followed the course of the fleeing vehicle out of the city, east toward Long Island Sound. Several miles out of the city, in the deepening twilight Pat saw the bluish trail leave the roadway and turn onto a gravel drive. Following above this path, which twisted through and was often obscured by forest, momentarily breaking the glowing trail, Pat suddenly came upon a clearing in which were parked two sedans--the same two sedans which she had pursued earlier that day! Although the light was almost gone, Pat could see a warehouse-- together with a dock--on the Sound, not far from the cars. Tethered to the dock was a boat. In the dimming light, from her altitude Pat couldn't see anyone on the ground, though there were lights on in the house.

        Swinging the autogyro eastward, Pat headed along the shore, searching for a clearing large enough to land her craft in. Luck was with the female Savage, as she found a suitable landing site after only a few minutes. Circling a few times to try to see if the ground was level enough, Pat finally brought the autogyro in for a landing. As the vehicle touched down smoothly, Pat smiled to herself, pleased. Not even her famous cousin could have bettered that landing, she felt!

        Disembarking, Pat put a few more items into the utility vest she had taken from Doc's and holstered one of his superfirers. Glancing around one last time to memorize the location of the clearing, Pat stepped into the darkened forest and was swallowed up into the night.

        Chapter Four
        Captured!

        Pat's progress through the woods was swift, aided by the pencil thin light from one of Doc's mini-flashlights, which focused its beam narrowly rather than diffusing it, making it more difficult to be spotted. Less than 15 minutes after she had left the autogyro, she lay supine in the long grass before the warehouse which contained her quarry. From her vantage point, the light coming from the windows of the warehouse, though weak, was enough to reveal that the property was probably not in regular use. The parking area was overgrown with weeds, which swayed slightly in the light breeze, while the building itself seemed in poor repair, with many broken windows. There was only one door on the side of the building which faced Pat, located near the parked sedans.

        The glow of twin cigarettes betrayed the presence of two men standing guard next to the door. The light was too dim for Pat to make out anything more than vague shapes where they were standing; though listening intently, she could catch the murmur of voices above the chirping of crickets, the splash of fish in the water and the occasional hoots of a lone owl in the forest.

        Silent as a bronzed ghost, Pat drifted towards the sedans, watching for any sign that she'd been discovered. Neither of the men at the building's entrance made any movement indicating they were aware of her approach. Croaching down beside the sedan closest to the warehouse, a mere 20 or so feet from the guards, Pat reached carefully into her utility vest. From this distance, Pat could tell that the indistinct voices she heard were not those of the guards, who were smoking in silence, but were coming from inside the warehouse.

        Extracting several small, round objects from the vest, she tossed them at the guards. A light, tinkling sound, as of fragile glass being broken, could be faintly heard. Both men looked down but saw nothing. "What the hell was..." one of the guards began to say, but the sentence was never finished, as both he and his fellow collapsed to the ground. Pat remained beside the sedan for another moment, before gliding out towards the door. Sprinkled on the ground at the foot of the guards were tiny glass shards, the remains of the glass capsules Pat had thrown at them. These capsules, one of the inventions relied on most by the Man of Bronze and his men, contained a powerful anesthetic gas which dissipated swiftly upon exposure to air. Although it had knocked the guards out nearly instantly, the minute Pat had spent by the sedan after their collapse had been sufficient to diffuse the stuff to the point where Pat was unaffected by it as she stood near the door.

        Pat felt like clapping with joy. So far, things were going perfectly. "If only Doc could see me now!" she wished, before quickly changing her mind. If Doc could see what she was up to, he would probably have used his gas grenades on her to stop her from getting into further trouble!

        After lightly trying the door and finding it locked, Pat crept along the side of the warehouse to a broken window. Rising her head, Pat peeked in through the window. One quick glance was enough to confirm Pat's suspicions that the warehouse was generally deserted, as the interior was in an advanced state of disrepair.

        A dozen or more men were scattered about the ramshackle interior of the building. A few were seated around a crate, playing cards. Others lounged on cots, seemingly asleep. Still others were clustered at a table 30 or so feet away from the window, talking among themselves. Guns were everywhere.

        Pat inhaled sharply as she recognized one of the figures at the table as the handcuffed man she had seen tossed into a sedan! An elderly gentlemen, greyhaired with a bushy beard, this individual was still handcuffed, and more, was tied to his chair. Even from her distance, Pat could see the fear in his eyes, the sweat that blanketed his face and soaked his shirt.

        Pat strained to catch the conversation at the table, but she was too far away, catching occasional words--"radio" being repeated on more than one instance--but not nearly enough to get any sense of what was being said. Increasing her risk of discovery, Pat turned her head slightly and pushed part of it forward through the break in the window, hoping to hear more. Her efforts would have paid off, as the voices from around the table immediately became more distinct, but before she could make out anything of interest, an argument flared up among the group of men playing cards. Though not violent, their voices obscured those of the men at the table.

        Cursing her luck, Pat tried harder to overhear something of what was being discussed at the table. This singlemindedness proved her undoing.

        Without warning, a pair of hands grabbed her from behind! "What do you think you're doing!?" a voice bellowed out in her ear as she was roughly pulled away from the window.

        Taken by surprise as she was, Pat's reflexes were superb. One hard elbow jabbed back into the ribs of her captor, while a heel stomped forcefully down on his instep. With a cry of pain, the man loosened his grasp enough for Pat to whirl around, grab his arms and throw him through the air with a judo move she had learned from Monk. Her assailant hit the ground with an "Ooooff!", his head striking hard on the ground.

        Pat's assailant, however, was not alone. His companion was a hulking brute of a man and he shouted to his fellows inside the warehouse as he advanced upon Pat. Nearly double Pat's mass, he clearly underestimated his foe. One bronzed fist shot out and sank into his midsection, another smashed against his face, splitting his lip. Staggering back, spitting blood from his mouth, he faced a metallic tigress. Darting here and there, Pat rained blow after blow upon him, agilely dodging his fists which, if they had landed, would likely have put a quick end to the fight.

        Pat exulted in the combat. After the first couple of seconds, she had no doubt in her mind that she would win. Her well-placed punches were keeping her opponent off balance, wearing him down. Unfortunately, in the excitement, she forgot about the first foe she had dispatched. Jumping backwards to avoid the brute's grasp, she landed on the man on the ground and went sprawling.

        "I've got you now!" the giant cried triumphantly and sprang towards her. His cry was drowned by the bullfiddle roar of one of Doc's supermachine pistols, clenched in Pat's hands, spewing bullets into his body. He dropped like a stone.

        Pat sprang to her feet but before she could move, the door of the warehouse burst open. Drawn by the sound of the conflict, men poured out of the warehouse. Lights came on, illuminating the field in which Pat stood, betraying her presence for all to see. A handgun cracked out its song of death in Pat's direction, bullets screaming past her bronzed tresses. Pat unleashed a hail of bullets from the supermachine pistol, felling a few of the men as they ran towards her, driving the others back into the warehouse or causing them to dive for cover behind the sedans.

        A quick glance convinced Pat that her odds of making it across the field without getting shot were slim, and she sprinted for the warehouse. The sound of gunfire followed her as she reached the building, crouching down behind a pile of loose bricks. Pat sent another stream of bullets towards her foes, keeping them pinned down. For the next few minutes, the night air was split by the sound of occasional shots from various handguns and rifles and the roar of the supermachine pistol.

        By the end of that time, Pat's ardor for adventure was beginning to wane a bit. She had devised and discarded several different options for getting out of this jam, none of which seemed likely to get her out alive. Popping in a fresh ammo drum, Pat sent another burst of bullets whizzing over the heads of her opponents, who were slowly pushing one of the sedans towards her as they crouched behind it. Although Pat's firearm made a tremendous din, her foes had finally realized that the bullets were not penetrating the metal of the sedan. Though they did not know it, this was because the ammo drums Pat was using were filled with mercy bullets, rather than regular ammunition. These bullets were designed to break the skin and deposit a powerful anaesthetic, knocking out an opponent in seconds. Doc Savage's creed was to never take a human life it could possibly be helped, and mercy bullets were the standard ammo for his supermachine pistols.

        Cursing herself for having not taken a few drums of Doc's explosive ammo along with her, Pat had pretty much decided how she was going to make a break for it when she was jerked off her feet, the pistol falling to the ground! A noose had lowered from the roof of the warehouse, been dropped over her head, and was then yanked up! Pat clutched at the rope around her neck as she was lifted off the ground. Men called from the roof to their fellows down below, yelling for them to rush her!

        Pat pulled frantically at the rope, desperately trying to loosen it and gulp more oxygen. Taken by surprise as she was, she hadn't had time to grab a proper breath. Spots began to swim across her gold-flecked eyes as she battled to breath, swinging a few feet off the ground. It was no use. Just as the first men reached her on the ground, Pat's world went dark.

        At a word from the men around Pat's hanging body, the rope was loosened and she fell to the ground. A couple of the men grabbed her, none too gently, and hauled her, as well as their unconscious fellows, into the warehouse.

        As the door to the warehouse closed, the outdoor lights went out, leaving the field once more in darkness. After a few moments, the crickets and the owl resumed their interrupted symphony of the night.

        Chapter Five
        Stolen Plans

        "Turn off the lights..." Pat murmured softly to herself as she slowly regained consciousness. Her head throbbed, and the world seemed to be entirely composed of the blinding glare of the desert sun. As she shook her head, wincing with the pain caused by the movement, the bright light that had at first filled her field of vision slowly dissolved as her eyes focused, revealing itself as coming from a solitary lightbulb suspended from the ceiling.

        Lifting her chin, Pat looked around at her new surroundings. She appeared to be in an interior office, presumably in the warehouse, with no windows and only one door. Trying to get up, Pat discovered that she was bound securely to a chair and that her utility vest had been removed. Her shirt was torn slightly from the fight outside, with the first few buttons undone, revealing the ample tops of her bronzed globes.

        If Pat had not been tied to the chair, she would probably have set a new world record for the standing high jump when a voice behind her asked, "How are you feeling, Miss?"

        Her startled gasp caused the speaker to apologetically say, "I'm sorry Miss, I didn't mean to spook you like that."

        "That's OK," replied the bronzed beauty, as she turned her head to face the owner of the voice. It was the grayhaired elderly man she had seen abducted near her salon who, though no longer handcuffed, shared her misfortune in being bound to a chair. The two of them were the only occupants of the small office. "You were the one they kidnapped. Who are you?"

        The old man smiled sadly. "My name is Howard Murray...Doctor Howard Murray. Yes, I was kidnapped...and my office blown up. There's no telling how many people died in that explosion...or how many more people will die because of me. Better for the world, far better, that I had never begun my research."

        "What are you talking about?" Pat asked, firing off questions. "What research? Why will people die? Who are these crooks and why did they grab you?" As she spoke, her fingers probed at the knots in the rope imprisoning her, but her spirits fell as she quickly realized they'd been tied by someone who knew what he was doing and she had little hope of undoing them. She was able to move her chair a little, to be able to look at her fellow captive as they spoke.

        Dr. Murray sighed. "I'll tell you what I can, before our captors come back to check on us. I am a scientist who has concentrated his career in the field of radio. Many years ago, I thought of an idea which I felt was sure to save lives and be a boon to mankind. Each year, hundreds of people die, on ships and on planes, due to inadequate guidance systems. I believe that many of these lives could be saved, if a better way of guiding ships and planes could be devised, one that would work in fog and other adverse whether conditions which make it difficult for pilots to navigate safely.

        "I have spent nearly the last dozen years of my life devising such a system...a radio controlled guidance system. I took under my wing a young man, Cartwright, as my lab assistant. What a fool I was!

        "The system is now nearly completed. A few months ago, Cartwright began to suggest that the system might be able to be modified to have military applications. Just as it could be used to guide planes or ships, it might be modified to guide torpedoes, or rockets carrying a bomb. With the accuracy my system could provide, the devastation could be awesome. Cartwright was convinced that we could sell it for a fortune."

        "So you modified it for military purposes!" Pat exclaimed.

        "No, no, I would have nothing to do with it!" Dr. Murray protested. "My goal is to help mankind, not aid in his destruction! I soundly denounced such an idea and told Cartwright that if he brought it up again, I'd fire him! At first Cartwright seemed to acquiesce in my decision, but then I caught him stealing plans from the laboratory. I threw him out, but was too softhearted to call the police. I was an idiot to think he'd go on his way and forget about it.

        "These men work for Cartwright. They broke into my office today and kidnapped me, stealing my plans and prototypes. On the ride here, Cartwright gloated. 'You could have shared millions with me,' he sneered, 'but you were so tied up in trying to help people you couldn't see the golden opportunity you had.' He took delight in telling me that he's sold the plans--and me!--to a European power, whose representatives are arriving tomorrow night by submarine to take delivery."

        "Which one is Cartwright?" asked Pat, trying to remember all of the men she'd seen in the warehouse.

        "He's not here now," replied the scientist. "When we arrived here, there was another car already parked in the lot. Cartwright and another man left shortly thereafter. Based on what I overheard when I was sitting outside this office, they should be back soon." Murray's voice became hinged with hysteria. "When he returns, I don't know what he'll do with you! What were you doing outside anyway? What on earth brought you here?"

        "Calm down, calm down!" Pat ordered. "I was..." Pat started to answer, then stopped. She believed Doctor Murray's story, but the man had clearly undergone a lot. If she told him the truth, she didn't think he'd be able to resist telling their captors if they interrogated them.

        "For your own good, I can't tell you that," Pat explained. Trying to cheer him up though, she said, "But don't give up hope, this isn't over yet!"

        "So," snarled a voice from the door. "You're expecting help, from your big bronze cousin maybe?"

        "Cartwright!" Murray exclaimed, as a new individual entered the office. Engrossed in her conversation with the doctor, Pat hadn't heard the office door open behind her.

        "Just what does Doc Savage know about this?" demanded Cartwright, as Pat struggled to shift her chair around to look at him. Just over six feet tall, with sandy hair and a strong chin, Cartwright possessed a rugged quality which Pat, at another time, would have found handsome.

        "Doc Savage!?" hope was in Murray's voice. "What does Doc Savage have to do with this?"

        "So, your pretty companion didn't tell you who she was, did she?" sneered Cartwright. "Well, Doctor Murray, may I introduce to you Pat Savage, cousin of Doc Savage, well known for sticking his face in where it doesn't belong!"

        "How do you know who I am?" Pat demanded, so flustered for the moment that she didn't think to deny her identity.

        Cartwright shrugged. "Some of the boys know quite a bit about the bronze devil, my pretty one. Including the fact that his gang uses machine pistols armed with mercy bullets, and that he often wears a utility vest remarkably similar to the one we removed from you. Factor in the fact that Doc Savage has a gorgeous cousin with bronzed hair and an appetite for adventure, and you don't have to be rocket scientist to realize that we've captured Pat Savage."

        "Well, I'll be..." muttered Murray dazedly to himself.

        "And, having captured her," Cartwright continued, "I'll ask her again, what does Savage know about this?!" He advanced on the bound girl, towering over her.

        Staring up defiantly at him, gold-flecked eyes sparking, Pat spat at her captor, "I won't tell you a thing!"

        Tensing, for a moment Cartwright looked like he would strike the bronzed adventuress, but then his frame relaxed. Smiling, he said, "Oh, I think you'll tell me everything, my pretty one. Bring her!" he ordered his men as he turned and strode from the office.

        Some of Cartwright's gang advanced into the room. Grabbing her chair, they lifted Pat and the chair. Pat cursed a blue streak, turning the elderly Doctor Murray crimson from hearing her. Ignoring her, Cartwright's men carried her from the office, slamming the office door shut behind them, leaving Howard Murray alone inside with his thoughts.

        Chapter Six
        Interrogated!

        Outside the office, in the main body of the warehouse, the men carrying Pat dropped their load in front of the table. Others of Cartwright's gang, who had not been in the office, gathered around, while some of their fellows, still out due to the mercy bullets, lay on cots. The giant Pat had fought outside, and his companion, both glowered at her.

        As Pat's chair was dropped, the sudden downward movement and stop caused her breasts to jiggle enticingly beneath her shirt. A few stray wisps of bronze hair fell over her face and down between the impressive hillocks. Assorted catcalls and wolf whistles were made by the captive's audience.

        Cartwright stepped in front of the bronze beauty. "And now, my dear, why don't you tell us what we want to know?" he asked.

        "Why don't you go to hell!" retorted Pat.

        "I was afraid you were going to be like that. However, you WILL tell us everything we want to know." Cartwright nodded at one of his men. "Carlos," he said, motioning to Pat.

        The individual Cartwright had addressed as Carlos smiled and stepped forward. As he approached Pat, he drew a Bowie knife from its sheath and began waving it in front of the bound woman. Though she would not give her captors the satisfaction of letting them see her afraid, Pat's eyes worriedly tracked the shining blade as floated closer and closer to her.

        Suddenly Carlos' hand darted out. Pat involuntarily flinched back as much as she was able. The knife slashed down at Pat's chest, then down again, over and over, slashing at her chest and arms, licking out at lightening speed. Such was the skill of Carlos with his blade, however, that he didn't make a scratch on Pat.

        Her shirt was a different story. Carlos' mastery of the knife had first reduced Pat's shirt to tatters, before a few final cuts had caused it to fall entirely off her.

        Displayed topless before the entire gang, even the giant and his companion gazed slackjawed at the bronzed vista before them. Perfect twin globes, bronzed and glistening, lay before their eyes, peaked with crinkled coral tips that were hardened from the chill night air. Not a man among them was immune to the sight which met them, as Pat's jutting breasts were revealed.

        The spell was broken as one man finally voiced their common thought. "What a pair of tits!" he exclaimed. At that, the men found their voice. Laughing, making coarse remarks, several hands reached out to fondle Pat's firm breasts.

        "Not so fast!" Cartwright broke in. His men dropped back a few feet. "We'll all have some fun with Miss Savage a little later," he leered. "For now, however, I want some answers!" So saying, he stepped in front of Pat Savage and held something up in his hand.

        Pat's eyes widened as she saw what Cartwright held...and realized that she would have no choice but to answer his questions. Reading the look on her face, Cartwright smiled. "I see you recognize this," he said. "I suppose I should thank you for supplying it."

        In his hand, Cartwright held a hypodermic needle, a needle that Pat recognized as being from Doc's utility vest. The needle held a formulation of truth serum of the bronze man's invention, with a potency much higher than that used elsewhere. The drug removed its subject's inhibitions, making them pliant and willing to divulge anything asked of them. Injected with the serum, Pat would have no choice but to respond to her captor's questions. Grinning, Cartwright leaned forward and jabbed the needle into her arm, injecting the contents into her veins.

        Futile though she knew it was, Pat struggled to retain her will. It was no use, however, as the world began to distort, as if she viewed the warehouse and everything in it from a great distance.

        "What is your name?" Cartwright asked after a few moments.

        "Pat Savage," she heard herself reply. Though part of her recognized she should not answer him, she was powerless to stop herself.

        "Why did you come here?"

        "I saw you kidnap Doctor Murray. I followed you."

        "How did you follow us?"

        Inside, part of Pat screamed at herself not to answer, but her voice betrayed her. "I followed by autogyro. I shot your cars with a special substance that left a trail I could follow."

        "I see," said Cartwright. "And does Doc Savage know where you are and what you've done?"

        "No," replied Pat.

        "Most excellent!" exclaimed Cartwright. "If the Man of Bronze doesn't know the score, I think that we've just found our evening entertainment. And tomorrow when our European friends arrive, they can take you with them for their amusement on the long voyage back!"

        Cartwright motioned at one of the cots. "Gentlemen, let's make Miss Savage a little more, comfortable, shall we say?" The gang laughed. "You will not struggle or attempt to escape, is that understood?" he demanded of Pat.

        "Yes," she replied. Under the influence of the serum, she was powerless to resist Cartwright's demands.

        "Good. In that case, I think it's time you were untied and we get to see the rest of your delectable body." In an instant men were untying the ropes that bound Pat to the chair, occasionally fondling a golden orb as they worked. "Oh baby, I can't wait to see your lips fastened around my dick," one of them chortled. Finished, they stepped back at a command from Cartwright.

        "Now, Miss Savage, I want you to get up and take the rest of your clothes off." Cartwright and his men grinned as the bronzed beauty first removed her boots and socks, then rose to her feet.

        "Take off your pants," ordered the gang leader.

        Pat couldn't stop herself. She reached down with her slender hands and unsnapped the button of her pants, then unzipped them. Appreciative calls greeted her as she slowly slid the pants down over the swell of her hips and down past her knees. Bending over to remove them, her black silk panties were pulled taut over her firm ass, hinting at the hidden treasures about to be revealed to the lustful gaze of the drooling gang.

        Standing back up, her uplifted breasts jiggling slightly, Pat stood clad only in her flimsy panties. Cartwright smiled and pointed at them. "Remove those now too," he ordered.

        Pat tucked her hands in the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her legs, revealing her trimmed bronze thatch. The panties fell to the floor and the bronzed beauty lifted her perfect feet out of them, a nude vision inflaming the lust of her captors.

        "When you wrap those long legs around me, I'll give you the fucking of your life!" cried out the giant who Pat had fought outside.

        Standing naked before the throng, hearing their cries and boasts of what they would do to her, Pat began to get turned on despite herself. Highly oversexed, she had enjoyed the pleasures of more than one man at a time on a few highly memorable occasions in the past, each of which had been hours of orgasmic bliss. The reluctance Pat would usually have had in this situation was swept away by the influence of the serum, which had removed all of her inhibitions and reduced her thinking to a basic level. Knowing that all of the men there were going to fuck her, or use her young body in another way to get off, Pat's pussy juices began to flow.

        "Go over to that cot and lie down!" ordered Cartwright. Her rounded asscheeks clenched and unclenched delightfully as the bronze bombshell walked over to the indicated cot and lay down. Horny and unable to resist her own erotic impulses, her thighs drifted apart of her own volition, revealing her moistened pussy lips to the gaze of her captors.

        Cartwright licked his lips as he took in the breathtaking vista before him. Doc Savage's cousin, Pat, was lying naked before him, pink nipples hard, with her athletic legs spread and waiting to be fucked! "I want to see you play with yourself!" he commanded. Keeping his eyes glued to her young, lithe form, he quickly began to shed himself of his clothing. All around him, the members of his gang followed suit.

        Powerless to resist his command, one of Pat's hands began to play with her left breast, pinching the coral tip and causing the crinkled nipple to harden even further. Her other hand slid through her bronzed thatch and softly spread her lower lips, displaying her cunt to the rapt gaze of her audience. Her fingers slid slowly up and down the length of her dewy slit, coating them with her love juices, before they travelled up her womanhood and found the erect nub of her clit. Pat began to moan as the sensations coursed through her young, vibrant body. She had never masturbated for more than an audience of one before, and her exhibitionist nature, given free rein to roam by virtue of the truth serum, loved the effect she was having on those around her, now generally naked themselves, as she watched a dozen or so cocks swiftly rising to attention, cocks that would soon be ravaging her nubile, willing body. Her fingers felt so good, fondling her breasts and nipples, sliding in and out of her wet cunt as they alternated with circling her clit.

        "Oh baby, she wants it--the bronzed bitch wants it!" was a typical call from the onlookers.

        Cartwright could wait no more. "I get to play with our toy first," he reminded his crew. Several looked crestfallen at that announcement, but there were no voiced objections.

        "That looks so pretty," he told Pat, attentively watching her self pleasuring ministrations. "But I can't wait anymore. I'm going to eat your soft little cunt until you come screaming and then fuck you senseless. Would you like that?" he asked, as he dropped to his knees before the masturbating young woman, his hot breath blowing across her open cunt. Rather than cooling her passions, the breeze of his breath caused the flow of her juices to quicken.

        "Oh yes," Pat exclaimed, any reservations totally overwhelmed by the influence of the serum and the pleasure streaking through her oversexed body. "Please lick me!" she cried, as she used the fingers of her hand to spread her pussy wide to facilitate the use of Cartwright's tongue upon her most private parts.

        Cartwright leaned forward, inhaling her heavenly aroma, before flicking his tongue out against the young woman's erect clit. Pat Savage shuddered with pleasure, both hands now kneading her firm breasts. Inflamed, Cartwright pressed his mouth hard against her fleshy lovelips, sucking them and her throbbing clit into his hot mouth, sliding his tongue all along her pretty pink slit, plunging it deep into her dripping cunt, feasting on her love juices. He ate the bronze woman out like a man possessed, thrusting his tongue into her moist cavern, laving her clitoris rapidly with the length of his tongue.

        Pat's hips bucked against him, quivering, thrusting her steaming cunt tighter against the wonderful mouth which was pleasuring her. Her muscular thighs clenched and unclenched around Cartwright's head, trapping him, forcing him to service her lustful needs. The pressure in her loins, the sparks flying through her vibrant frame evoked by her hands wildly caressing her tits, built swiftly before suddenly exploding.

        "I'm coming!" she cried, body arching up partway off the cot, screaming in pleasure as she felt Cartwright's warm tongue paying homage to her honeyed slit and clit, bringing her off. Her love juices flooded his face as her captor devoured her steaming snatch, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her quim tight against his busy mouth, her orgasm ripping through her body. Moaning in ecstasy, Pat came hard as she felt Cartwright eating her cunt, knowing that soon he and a dozen others would take their pleasure from her.

        Finally her tense thighs unclenched. Cartwright disentangled himself from their prison and looked up the naked length of the young woman, breasts heaving from her climax, a sheen of perspiration covering her perfect body, glistening erotically in the light.

        "Way to go boss, you really brought the bronze slut off!" came the calls from his men. Pat knew that she should have been ashamed to have had such a climax at the mouth of her captor, in front of a dozen other men, but she had adored the sensations, was turned on by the demonstrable effect she was having on the gang, many of whom had begun to stroke their erections while watching the erotic tableau before them, seeing the young woman--the cousin of their deadliest enemy--writhe in ecstasy on the mouth of their boss.

        His face shiny with her pussy juices, Cartwright grinned up at Pat. "You enjoyed that, didn't you, you little slut?"

        "Oh, yes, I loved it!" she exclaimed, part of her disgusted with herself for having made such an admission, but powerless to deny the truth, that she had loved feeling Cartwright's mouth and tongue on her pussy.

        Rising above her, Cartwright asked, "Would you like me to fuck you now?"

        "Yes," panted the young woman.

        Cartwright teased Pat's twat with the tip of his dick, sliding it across her clit, getting it slick with her wetness. "Well, I'll be happy to oblige," he continued, struggling to maintain his self control, but wanting to see the one and only Pat Savage abase herself further before him. "But first, my dear, you have to ask me to fuck you, nicely."

        "Please fuck me! Fuck my cunt!" came the immediate request forced from her lips. Her loins were on fire, and Pat desperately wanted to feel Cartwright's dick--any dick-- plunge into her waiting body.

        "Well, since you want me to," Cartwright said, as he swiftly thrust forward, burying his hard shaft inside her to the balls in one hard, fluid motion.

        "Oh God!" cried out Pat, as she felt her inner walls expand to accommodate the intruder, feeling the rockhard cock sluicing into the warm grotto.

        The feel of Pat's wet vagina around his penis was incredible. Her moist, silky walls clung to him, threatening to milk the gang leader of his load of cum long before he wanted to deliver it. Cartwright groaned with the sensation, his voice combining with Pat's to create a symphony of pleasure as the young woman impaled beneath him moaned at the exquisite feeling of his throbbing shaft deep inside her hot little snatch.

        "Don't move!" he ordered Pat, as she started to rock her hips back and forth to drive his steely length in and out of her. Cartwright wanted the bronzed beauty to come screaming while being fucked by his cock and he didn't want to blow his load just yet. Biting her lip in disappointment, Pat obeyed, but wrapped her long bronzed legs around her captor, her slim feet pressed against his ass, holding him inside of her.

        Regaining control of himself, Cartwright withdrew and looked down at the juncture of their bodies. His cock was shiny, coated with Pat Savage's love juices. Her soft cuntlips clung to his cock as if kissing it, as if they were unwilling to let it out of her pussy. Golden breasts, covered by an erotic sheen, heaving, Pat licked her red lips, wisps of bronze tresses across her face, as she waited expectantly for Cartwright to begin fucking her in earnest.

        Staring down at her, Cartwright could scarce believe his eyes. The sight was incredible! The incomparable Pat Savage, Doc Savage's cousin, lay beneath him, impaled on his dick, waiting for him to fuck her!

        Cartwright plunged forward again, driving his dick home. Pat screamed wordlessly in pleasure as the gang leader began to pump his shaft in and out of her warm, wet muff. The rhythmic "slap!" of his body against hers as he slammed in and out of her was melded with the squishy sounds made by her sloshing cunt as it was probed by his hard dick. The base of his cock smote against her clit with each downstroke, causing the young woman to scale the peaks of sexual ecstasy. Her feet drummed mindlessly against his butt, wordlessly commanding him to fuck her harder and faster. Although it was Pat who was the prisoner, Cartwright obeyed this silent command, fucking her as hard and fast as he could as he felt the pressure building, the hot spunk getting closer and closer to bursting from his prick. Pat's body tingled as the sensations caused by the hard cock splitting her pussy lips and sinking fully into her soft depths drove her closer and closer to a shattering climax.

        "Fuck me! Fuck me! I love it, I love it! Harder...faster...fuck me!" she screamed at Cartwright, over and over again, as the exquisite sensations coursed through her taut young body.

        Cartwright's gang looked on in eager anticipation as they saw their bosses' length disappear into the willing body of their young captive. Hearing her screams and sharp little moans of pleasure, smelling the heavenly scent of her cunt's musk that permeated the building, they imagined themselves in a few minutes with those long legs wrapped around them as they buried themselves in Pat's honey pot.

        Pat's vagina was a slick furnace burning up the length of Cartwright's cock as he slammed in and out of her, each forward thrust causing her saucy tits to bounce back and forth from the momentum. Her fingers tweaked the hardened pink nipples mercilessly, pulling on them, twisting them, helping to bring herself off.

        Pat squealed as her orgasm hit her. "Aiieee! I'm cummmminnnnnggg!" she wailed as she exploded on Cartwright's prick, loving the feel of his tool probing her innermost recesses as she was being watched by a dozen horny men, men who were eagerly anticipated dropping load after load of their hot, sticky cum in and on her body. As the thought of what was yet to come after Cartwright had finished ravaging her hit her, Pat's body burst into a frenzy again, twisting and bucking on the cot as she thrust her quivering young body harder against Cartwright's erect shaft, trying desperately to impale herself on every last inch of her captor.

        The sight of the young woman writhing below him, bronze hair whipping about wildly as she flung her head from side to side, the unbidden sounds being wrung from her delicious lips, the fragrence of Pat's love juices in the air, the realization that it was Pat Savage he was riding, that it was Pat Savage he had made come--first with his mouth, then with his manhood--all finally proved too much for Cartwright's control. As his eyes took in his gorgeous but disheveled captive, pinned beneath him on his cock, climaxing as he rammed in and out of her tight, hot hole, Cartwright roared.

        "I'm cumming! I'm...cumming...in...Pat...Savage's...pussy!" A veritable river of jism burst from his swollen cock, jetting up deep inside her pink cavern, coating the inside of Pat's vagina and turning it from pink to milky white. Her spasming cunt clutched at his tool, coaxing his load out of him. Pat could feel his cock spurting inside her, could feel his spunk filling her up and leaking out of her down the inside of her muscular thighs, sliding down out of her slit and dripping to her ass, setting off yet another convulsion through her perfect form. Cartwright groaned as the young woman's greedy pussy milked every last drop of cum from his balls, encouraging him to deposit his full load inside her velvety sheath.

        Finally Cartwright was done bucking into her cunt. He lay for a moment on top of the bronze bombshell, enjoying the feel of her hardened nipples pressing against his chest, smiling as he thought of the rest of his gang having their way with her.

        "You enjoyed that, didn't you, you little slut? You want the rest of my men to have you too, don't you?" he whispered in her ear.

        Pat was unable to resist replying, "Yes, yes, I want them all!" Hearing these words pass the lips of the bronzed goddess, Cartwright's gang cheered. Cartwright rolled off Pat and announced to his gang, "Boys, she's all yours!"

        Further cheers broke out all around. Though they had spent most of the time that their boss was taking his pleasure from the willing body of their captive in watching the incredible spectacle, one member of the gang had thought to have everyone draw cards to decide the order they would take her in. This they had already done, and the lucky winner of that draw, a short man his fellows addressed as "Stumpy", sprang forward to collect his prize. His nickname clearly applied to his height, and not the length of his male member, for while he wasn't huge, he wielded a solid 6" of jutting prick.

        Stumpy approached the cot, gazing avidly at the incredible sight before him. The bronzed Venus lay spreadeagled on the cot, her muscular thighs open invitingly, tiny rivulets of cum dripping out of her open snatch, running down her hot, taut ass and pooling on the cot beneath her. Just above her pussy, tiny drops of cum speckled her trimmed bronze thatch, glistening among the soft, kinky hair. Hefting his dick in one hand, Stumpy leered down at the just-fucked young woman as he climbed onto the cot with her.

        "You think you've been fucked good, well, you ain't seen nothin' yet!" he promised as, without preliminary, he sank into her dripping cunt. It was like sinking into a moist oven, as Pat's lovejuices combined with Cartwright's semen made her incredibly wet. Even though she had just been fucked, Pat's quim was still extremely tight as she accepted the new intruder eagerly into her young, quivering flesh. The delicious feeling made her head swim, and Pat knew that in her highly sensitized state, it wouldn't take much for her to cum again and again. Her clit was a pulsing source of pleasure and the nerves in her cunt communicated every delicious motion of the cock invading her cunt to her brain, causing her entire body to tremble with delight.

        Grasping her long legs, Stumpy hoisted them from around his waist, where they had settled in, and placed them on his shoulders, with her well-turned ankles and slim feet above his head. In this new position he began to drill over and over into her gaping cunt, pounding her firm body like a sledgehammer. His cock, slick with Pat's pussy juices and the jism that had been deposited in her, slid swiftly back and forth without resistance.

        "Unnggghh!" Pat heard herself grunting in pleasure as she felt the hard cock slamming in and out of her willing hole. The sensations were amazing as his erect organ hammered into her sopping muff and she could feel herself cresting again, riding the wave of bliss rippling through her ravaged cunt and all through her body.

        Although Stumpy had won his chance to fuck Pat Savage first after Cartwright had finished with her, he was not accorded the same respect the gang showed to their leader. Cartwright was done with Pat, and while Stumpy might be fucking her now, there were still plenty of things those who were waiting for their turn could do to and with her.

        Pat gasped with delight as, without warning, two warm mouths closed over her tits, licking and sucking the turgid tips into them. The sensation of two men sucking on her sensitive nipples, biting them lightly as they eagerly laved them with their tongues, combined with the intense sensations emanating from her well-fucked honey pot, sent the young woman over the edge once more. Her fingers entwined themselves mindlessly in the hair of each of the men sucking on her perky tits, forcing them to open their mouths wider and suck even more of the firm globes into their warm, wet mouths, as she spasmed on the cot, locking her feet behind Stumpy's head as she came and came, flooding his cock with her love juices.

        "More, more, fuck me more!" she screamed, her shuddering body betraying to all those watching that she had climaxed once again. Incredible a sight though it was, the sensation of feeling Pat's hot cavern tightening around Stumpy's cock as she came was a thousand times more incredible. It felt like hundreds of tiny fingers were clutching at his cock as it was squeezed tightly in the warm, wet vise of her spasming vagina.

        Screaming, "Take it, you slut!", Stumpy came inside Doc's beautiful bronze cousin, his cock pouring out his frothy tribute deep inside her grotto, mixing with the cunt juices and jism already there.

        Finished cumming, Pat slumped back on the cot exhausted, her bronze hair in total disarray, her body glistening, a sheen caused by a mixture of sex sweat, saliva, jism and her own love juices. Wisps of her tresses were plastered to her face as she made little mewling noises, gold-flecked eyes gazing down the length of her nude body, watching the gang members possess it and vent their lusts on it. Her body couldn't deny it--she loved to be fucked!

        His full load of cum deposited into the bronze woman's body, Stumpy slowly withdrew from the steaming cavern. His cock was coated with his and Cartwright's combined semen, together with Pat's honey. Leering down at the woman he had just fucked, he wiped his cock clean on her bush, matting the soft bronze hair even more.

        Stumpy stumbled back off the cot, his place immediately taken by another member of the gang. Pat didn't know his name, didn't care. All she knew was that he was a man, she was a woman, he was going to fuck her wildly, she was going to cum on his cock and he was going to drop a delicious load of thick cum up her snatch.

        Hot cum oozed out of Pat's pussy, coating her pussy lips a creamy white. As the new guy clambered onto the cot and plunged his hard shaft into her waiting body, a voice at her side said, "I'll be damned if I'm waiting any longer! The bronze bitch has more than one hole we can use!"

        Pat turned her head to the side and saw an erect cock jutting out inches from her face. Without waiting to be told, she opened her mouth to suck it in, but the man at the side of the bed was too impatient to wait for her to lean forward. Grabbing a handful of bronze hair, he forced her willing head forward, moaning as her red lips parted and his shaft sank between them into her hot mouth. Pat's agile tongue licked all around the shaft which now filled her mouth, twirling around its head, licking a tiny drop of pre- cum from the slit.

        "Oh man," cried the gang member she was blowing. "This babe really knows how to give head. That's it baby, suck it, suck it!"

        Pat didn't need any encouragement. She loved to give blowjobs, loved the feel of a nice juicy dick swelling in her mouth, getting ready to blast its tribute down her throat. Her lips joyfully accepted the intruder as eagerly as her labial lips were accepting the hard cock plumbing into her cunt at the same time. One of her hands went out and grasped the dick of one of the men sucking on her crimson peaks, slowly beginning to jack him off. Servicing three hard cocks at the same time, feeling them sliding in and out of her warm, wet cunt and mouth, feeling a steely dick with her hand while her breasts were being lavished with attention, put Pat into an almost constant state of near orgasmic bliss. Her moans and screams of pure delight, as her pussy was fucked good and hard, were, however, muffled somewhat by the cock which filled her mouth.

        Pat gazed up with gold-flecked eyes into the eyes of the gang member she was blowing, batting her eyelashes coyly as her ruby lips wrapped themselves around his shaft. The gang member couldn't believe the sight...Pat Savage was sucking him off and loving it! The erotic view, combined with the frantic action of Pat's talented mouth and warm, darting tongue, was too much for him. His cock erupted in her mouth, spewing molten cum onto her pink tongue and down her throat. Pat loved the taste and eagerly gulped it down, yet another delicious orgasm triggering in her helpless body as the gang member between her thighs rammed his throbbing dick in and out of her dripping cunt.

        Suddenly, before he finished cumming, the man Pat was sucking off withdrew from her mouth, causing some of his frothy spunk to trickle out from between Pat's luscious lips and down her chin. Grabbing his dick, he aimed the few final spurts of his white, sticky cum onto Pat's face and hair.

        At the same time, the man Pat was jerking off, senses overloaded with the erotic imagery he was seeing and hearing, on edge from inhaling the musky aroma of Pat's love juices which permeated the room, couldn't take anymore. Letting her jutting nipple escape from his mouth, he stood up as her bronzed hand, expertly sliding up and down the length of his erect tool, brought him to a shattering climax. His cum sprayed wildly from his cock, jetting over a foot to land, splattering, on the bronzed body before him. Spurt after spurt of the gooey, pearly white liquid landed on her tits, between them, on her neck, on her bronze stomach which was pulled taut as the young woman's climax racked her body. His tribute to Doc Savage's cousin was joined by the man fucking her, as he too came, once more filling her dripping cavern to overflowing with man juices.

        Laying flushed and exhausted on the cot, with cum dripping down her lips and cheeks, glistening whitely in her disheveled bronze hair, coating her tits and matting her bronze bush, Pat looked ready to claim the title the Slut of Bronze.

        Exhausted though she was, the gang was not through with her yet. There remained many more members who had not yet vented their lusts on her insatiable body.

        As the three men Pat had just finished entertaining withdrew, the giant that Pat had fought outside approached, sporting a massive erection. Pat's eyes widened at the sight of it--in length and thickness, her former assailant was nearly a match for her lover Monk.

        "On your knees," he growled. "I'm going to take you from behind like the bitch that you are!"

        Powerless to obey this command, even if she had wanted to, the proud young woman who had become the gang's plaything shifted position, assuming a kneeling position on the cot, her weight resting on her knees and elbows. A white torrent poured out of her gaping pussy, as the cum deposited there, mingled with her love juices, flowed freely out, tracing paths down the inside of her muscular thighs.

        The giant grinned in appreciation as the other gang members called out their comments on the view. Pat's dripping slit was framed just beneath her tight little asshole, slick with the combination of juices which had soaked down from her cunt. She looked like a goddess, the goddess of sex, just waiting to be fucked on her hands and knees, presenting her ass and pussy for the world to see. Her glistening globes, coral tipped, were suspended downwards, swaying slightly, enticingly, as the giant settled onto the cot behind her. Pat's taut, perfect asscheeks beckoned him on, hinting at the glories within her hot little body.

        Displayed like a brazen whore before the gang, Pat's entire body was on fire. Nerve endings she had never known existed beat out staccoto pulses of pleasure to her brain. She had lost count of the number of times she had come, climax after climax wrung from her body by a gang member's hard cock. But she wanted, she needed, more!

        The giant positioned the head of his cock against the young woman's quim and slowly began to push his length inside her. Her swollen labial libs spread wide to welcome the intruder, wrapping around it and welcoming him into her steamy warmth. As he slowly sank his shaft into her sopping interior, Pat squealed with the sensation, feeling him stretch her inner walls, sinking deeper and deeper. It was exquisite! Involuntarily she started to force herself back onto him, to impale herself on the monstrous organ which was giving her so much pleasure, but the giant grabbed her quivering hips, cupping her bronzed ass as he forced her to hold still. Pat's vagina felt so good welcoming him in, he wanted to enjoy the sensation to the fullest. Staring down where their flesh met and became one, he watched inch after inch of his thick cock penetrate Pat's muff, gripping him in a heated, satiny vise. As he pushed in, his giant tool displaced more of the mixture of cum and love juices that filled Pat's quim, forcing it out of her hole where it gripped his cock, causing it to pour down her thighs, pooling on the cot beneath her.

        It seemed incredible that Pat's cunt could take all of his massive length, but finally, with one final mini-thrust forward, the giant's cock was buried in her to his balls. "Uuunngghh!" Pat moaned in ecstasy as she felt the hard prick filling her, filling her completely

        "It feels so gooooood!" Pat wailed. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

        The giant began to do just that, sliding inch after inch of his now-slick erection out of her soaked pussy before plunging it back in, slamming into her, causing cum and cuntjuice to splatter on her upturned ass. The feel of his balls rhythmically smacking into her clit as he thrust himself into her deepest recesses drove Pat upwards towards yet another shattering climax. Bracing herself on her forearms, knuckles white as she grasped the edge of the cot in a viselike grip, Pat drove herself backwards, meeting the giant's downstrokes, fucking herself on his cock.

        "Oh yes! Oh yes! Uuunngghh! Make me cum...make me cum...I'm... cummmmiiinnngggg!" she cried, as the orgasmic wave crested within her, sending her frenzied body into convulsions on the cot. Her body arched up, taut as a bowstring, as her head flailed back and forth, long hair lashing wildly from side to side. The giant had to tighten his grip on her ass to prevent her spasms from lifting her off his dick. The feel of her slick pussy walls clamping down even more tightly around his shaft with the force of her climax was pure bliss as he squeezed her slick asscheeks and continued to thrust into her quivering body.

        As Pat's orgasm subsided and she sank back down, exhausted, on the cot, the giant's companion from outside approached Pat from the front. "You took us both on outside...now we're both gonna take you on inside!" he stated.

        Standing in front of the violated young woman, his jutting prick was level with her head. Wetting her lips in anticipation, Pat leaned forward. The tip of her pink tongue brushed against the hard cock in front of her, causing it to bob up and down, anticipating the pleasures to come. She flicked her tongue in quick, catlike motions up and down the shaft, wetting it with her saliva. Reaching his balls, head turned at an angle, she slid her tongue along the hairy sack, eliciting a groan of appreciation from her nameless captor. Her slick tongue felt heavenly caressing his balls.

        Finished teasing, Pat slid her mouth up the length of the steely tool. Reaching its knob, she opened her luscious lips wide and slid them down, down, around the shaft, enveloping it in her hot, wet mouth. Her head, covered by gorgeous bronze tresses spotted with gobs of white cum, bobbed up and down, mouth making slurping noises, as she eagerly gobbled up the cock before her as if it were candy, while behind her, another cock was plunging itself in and out of her, setting off sparks within her sensual body as if struck by flint.

        Grabbing Pat's head, the gang member she was blowing took over the rhythm, sliding his shaft into her mouth and down her throat, fucking her face while his companion fucked her cunt. Her crimson lips clung to his cock as he slid back and forth, pleasuring his tool, coaxing him to blast into her mouth. Pat's squeals of joy as she felt herself climbing to yet another orgasm were muffled by the prick in her mouth. Their fellow gang members urging them on, exhorting them to fuck her like a slut, her two lovers picked up the pace, slamming themselves in and and out of her holes. Pat could feel her climax approaching as her pussy was penetrated repeatedly by the massive invader, its owner grunting as he felt the cum boiling in his balls, seeking release.

        With a strangled cry the giant buried himself in Pat's willing body to the hilt, unleashing a torrent of cum from his mighty cock, a river of sperm that flowed copiously into her love cavern, mixing with the cum and love juices already there. Seeing the once-mighty Pat Savage sucking him off, hearing her squeal with delight from her double penetration, seeing and hearing his fellow blast a load into her hot young body, was too much for the man fucking Pat's face, as he unleashed his load of fiery cum onto her eager little tongue.

        Gulping down the salty sperm, swallowing frantically, feeling the giant's semen flooding her twat like a geyser, Pat exploded, her moist pussy walls spasmodically clenching and unclenching, coming again and again on the two hard dicks, loving the feelings as they ravaged her helpless body. Both men pumped burst after burst of hot cum into her two orifices, before withdrawing to spray their final loads onto her spasming body. Pat could feel the giant's cum splattering down, warm and wet, on her bronzed back and ass, dribbling down between her ass cheeks and wetting her anus, while in front of her the other man gushed into her face and hair, coating her cheeks and bronze tresses with his tribute to her oral ministrations.

        Finished, the two men slumped away, the giant "smacking!" Pat's asscheek with one palm before walking away grinning, leaving the globe quivering. The dissheveled young woman, her natural bronzed skin and hair sticky with pearly cum, looked like she had been well and totally fucked. Saliva dribbled out of the corner of her slack mouth. Her body had come so hard, so many times, Pat felt like she couldn't move.

        However, there were yet more gang members waiting who had yet to have their way with Doc Savage's gorgeous cousin. The next in line stepped forward. It was Carlos, the man who had sliced her shirt away with his knife.

        Looking down at her kneeling on the cot, Carlos said, "I did all my work in taking off your clothes, you bronze slut. And now, you're going to do the work. I want to see the one and only Pat Savage riding on my dick. Slide over!"

        Powerless to refuse, Pat slid over on the cot, letting Carlos lay, on his back, next to her. His erect cock jutting up proudly, saluting the young woman who was about to give it so much pleasure. "Ride me baby," Carlos demanded. "I want to see you working yourself on my dick!"

        Pat swung one leg over him, straddling the prone gang member. Reaching down with one finely manicured hand, she grasped his shaft and brought it to the entrance to her love tunnel, from which poured a steady stream of cum and cunt juice. She positioned the knob between her lower lips and slowly sank down onto him, impaling herself on his throbbing tool.

        "Oh, that's it, that's it!" hissed Carlos as he felt her satiny walls closing in on him, enveloping his cock with their moist heat. "Fuck yourself, baby, fuck yourself on my cock, you bronze slut!"

        Her body thrilling, Pat began to do just that, raising and lowering herself onto the hard dick, muscular thighs working, pussy muscles clenching at the welcome intruder sliding in and out of her. Each time Pat brought herself down hard on Carlos, burying his shaft entirely inside her muff, her clit made delicious contact with his groin, sending her spiralling upwards once again. Her bronze bush, sticky with cum and pussy juice, intermingled with Carlos' kinky black pubic hair, intertwining with it, wetting it with the aromatic elixer.

        "Oh god," she moaned, helpless to stop herself, uncaring that the gang members heard her expressions of lust. "It feels so good to fuck you, so good, so good!"

        Carlos leaned back on the cot and enjoyed the immensely erotic view of Pat Savage, her tight body glistening with sweat and smelling of sex, riding him, working to bring him and herself off. Her firm tits, covered with cum, bounced up and down enticingly with the rhythmic motions of her perfect thighs, crimson nipples jutting forth, proudly proclaiming her arousal for the world to see. Venus herself could not have looked sexier as she ground herself into him, cum matted hair swinging back and forth, wisps of it plastered to her face which was contorted with pleasure. Carlos reached up and began to pinch her perky nipples, pulling and tweaking them, causing the tender little tips to swell even more from the delightful stimulation. Little mewling noises began to escape from Pat's red lips as she built inevitably to yet another climax, her muscular thighs churning, causing her to sink then rise faster and faster on the hard dick from which she was taking her pleasure.

        Her experiences of a few moments before still fresh in her overwrought mind, Pat longed for a second prick to make her ecstasy complete, one to take into her eager mouth while she came on the cock plumbing her cunt. Scarcely crediting her words, she heard herself say to the onlookers, "I...I need more cock! Who wants a blowjob?"

        The gang heard her words with stunned disbelief. Pat Savage...THE Pat Savage...had offered them a blowjob! Jostling his fellows out of the way, one gang member quickly sprang forward. He grabbed a chair, climbed on it in front and to the side of her, his erection nearly level with her face.

        Grabbing himself, he waved his cock in front of the writhing young woman. "Here you go, baby," he said. "This monster will take care of....ungghhh!" His statement was cut off as Pat, her pussy overheating, swiftly leaned forward slightly and without preamble, sucked him deeply into her mouth. Feeling the hard cock sliding in and out from between her lips was enough to set her off. Fireworks exploded in Pat's head as she twisted on Carlos' dick, impaling herself on it fully, grinding her clit into his crotch. She frantically laved the cock in her mouth with her tongue, flailing at it with the pink appendage, delirious from the sensation of being filled in two holes at once.

        Carlos grasped Pat's ass, slick with cum and sweat, to prevent her from bucking off his cock as she climaxed. The young woman's velvety sheath clutched him with each convulsion, a feeling of indescribable bliss. Using his hands on her ass, he guided the shuddering woman of bronze back and forth on his love tool. Above him, he could see her slurping on his friend's cock, rapidly sucking it in and out of her mouth.

        Pat could feel her asscheeks being squeezed by Carlos, loved the sensation as they were pulled apart, taut, exposing her wet little asshole to the air. The breeze caused by her rocking motions teased the nerve endings in her puckered anus, creating yet another sensation to thrill her.

        Suddenly Pat felt pressure on her clenched asshole. Another man, drunk with lust from seeing her bottom displayed so brazenly, had moved behind her and was presenting the head of his cock to her bottomhole. Sliding it along between her taut asscheeks, he quickly coated it with a slick mixture of cum and cunt juice, before placing the knob at the entrance to her bowels and slowly pushing himself forward.

        The feeling was incredible! Pat could feel her tight little anus opening up, expanding to accomodate the intruder which was slowly inching its way past her opening, past the ring of muscle which clamped down on it as it inched forward to sink deeper and deeper into her ass. The cock in front of her momentarily falling from her lips, spittle dripping down, Pat screamed in ecstasy as she felt her third hole being penetrated. The thin membrane between her ass and vaginal sheaths was stretched to its limit to permit both cocks entry. Pat could feel them sliding in next to each other as she carefully sank down on Carlos' dick, at the same time wiggling her ass back at the unknown owner of the cock which was forcing its way ever deeper into her butt.

        Filled completely in both lower holes, Pat once again eagerly sucked the cock in front of her into her hot little mouth. It felt awesome, but inside, part of Pat quailed at the thought of what Monk or Melissa would think of her if they could see her now, cum splattered all over her body, while she entertained three hard dicks at once, thrilling as she was impaled by them over and over again. She had followed the gang seeking adventure--she had certainly found it, though not in the manner she had anticipated!

        Those thoughts were, however, swiftly brushed aside by the power of the sensations coursing through her lithe body. Plundered by the three hard cocks filling every orifice, Pat was nearly delirious with bliss. The air reeked with the smell of hot, sweaty sex. Her body having adjusted to the presence of pricks up both her quim and ass, Pat had resumed slamming herself up and down on Carlos' dick with force, while the intruder behind her ravaged her tender little ass with increasing fury. Carlos and this gang member had fallen into a rhythm, as their cocks slid into the young adventuress side by side, separated only by a thin sheath of flesh.

        The man fucking Pat's ass looked down, past her cum splattered back, to watch his hard shaft sinking into the writhing young woman. Her puckered anus was split wide to give him entry, the humid interior walls carressing him with each stroke he made. The sight of Pat Savage's ass stretched obscenely over his plundering tool, while she fucked herself on another cock and sucked off yet a third one with her talented mouth, was one he swore he would never forget. It was something he would be telling his friends about until the day he died.

        "You rich cunts are all alike," he grunted, punctuating his statement by thrusting to the hilt into her bowels once again. The well-riden woman cried out incoherantly, voice muffled by cock. "You play hard to get, but when you get a chance to get some real men, you turn into a total slut. You like me fucking your ass, don't you, bitch?" Ecstatic squeals were his only reply.

        Pat's ass was incredibly tight. The feel of her hot little ass clutching him as he ravaged her was rapidly causing pressure to build in his balls, pressure he was desparate to relieve. Close to cumming, he clutched the bronzed woman's hips to hold her, as yet another orgasm slammed through her body. Pat was on fire, loving it, greedily taking all the three gang members were giving her and giving back as good as she got. The first spurts of cum from the member she was blowing set her off, racking her insatiable body with climactic convulsions. Tasting the salty tribute to her oral skills, Pat's orgasmic shrieks were muffled as she hungrily drained the balls of the man in front of her, swallowing the slimy liquid in hasty gulps, loving the taste and texture as the frothy sperm flowed onto her tongue and down her throat, excess dribbling out of the corners of her mouth and down her chin.

        Bucking like an unbroken bronco, Pat's convulsions caused her ass and vaginal muscles to spasmodically contract, hugging the cocks which filled them even tighter. It was too much for the man buried in Pat's puckered little asshole, as the pressure built and burst. Holding Pat's hips as he thrust into her, burying his cock in her ass to the balls, he came. Jet after jet of pearly white cum was injected deep into her bowels, coating her insides. His cock twitched as it delivered its load, paying homage to Pat's incredible body.

        Pat's spasms proved too much for Carlos as well. As she ground herself into him once again, impaling herself on his steely cock, his prick exploded, showering the interior of her pink cunt with white jism. Carlos thrust his hips up off the cot, desparately trying to force himself deeper into the young woman as he got off, ecstatic with the mindnumbing pleasure of feeling Pat cum on his cock. Her vaginal sheath milked him, making sure that it relieved him of every drop of the fiery fluid.

        Pat could feel the hot, sticky sperm spurting uncontrollably into her ass and cunt. The sensation, and the knowledge that two men were emptying themselves in her, caused her to peak again. The spent cock of the man in front of her falling from between her lips, Pat flung her head back and wailed incoherantly like a banshee as she came, her glistening, crimson tipped breasts bouncing wildly.

        Withdrawing from her bottom, the man who had fucked Pat Savage's ass collapsed on a nearby cot. Pat's asshole, dilated from the abuse it had received, remained obscenely stretched open, a testament to the fact that it had just finished entertaining a stiff prick. Sticky cum poured out of Pat's open anus before it slowly closed, trapping the remaining sperm deep inside Pat's bowels.

        Exhausted, Pat toppled over, off of Carlos, causing the cum he had deposited up her cunt to mingle with his fellows' as it ran out of her leaking slit, covering her thighs and ass. The young woman's overheated mind caused her to softly mutter, to no one in particular, "I'm a slut...I'm such a slut...I love it!"

        And for the rest of that evening, Pat Savage proved that statement. At some point during the night the effects of the truth serum wore off, but by then, nothing could have stopped the bronzed adventuress from sexually satisfying every cock in the warehouse again and again. Her perfect young body was blazing and only sweaty, repeated sex could douse the flames. Time after time the gang members had her, penetrating all of her orifices, sometimes individually, sometimes in multiple combinations. Each gang member had her at least twice, several taking her three or more times, cumming at least once in each of her holes. Others had her jerk them off to climax with her talented hands, directing her to spray her tits and the rest of her taut body with their sticky, hot sperm as she milked them and emptied their balls of their loads. Pat lost count of the number of men she had satisfied, the number of times she had been brought to crashing climaxes while being impaled on stiff cocks up her cunt or ass, the amount of cum she had swallowed.

        By the time the next morning arrived, the adventure seeker had been fully and completed fucked. Her perfect bronze body was coated with cum. Gobs of pearly white semen matted her dissheveled hair, plastering it to her body. The smell of her cunt juices and of sex filled the warehouse.

        Finally finished with her, at an order from Cartwright the gang carried her back in to the office. Dr. Murray's eyes went wide as he saw the state the young woman was in, though her cries of ecstasy throughout the night had informed him of how she was being used. Making sure she was tied securely to a chair, the gang members filed out of the room. Only Cartwright remained behind for a moment.

        Looking down at the exhausted young woman, Cartwright smiled. "I'd advise you to get your beauty sleep, my dear. Our customers arrive for the good doctor and his invention this evening, and you'll be making the long sea voyage back with them. Most of the men on that sub haven't seen a woman in weeks. Tonight was just a small taste of what you'll be in store for during the trip! I suspect that if you manage to make it through the voyage, they may sell you to a sultan somewhere for his harem. I hear they like young white women, and you'll certainly have the necessary qualifications! I'd be amazed if you weren't an expert in every sexual perversion by the time you're finished! If only the mighty Man of Bronze could see you now--or an hour or two ago!"

        Laughing, Cartwright exited the office, leaving his prisoners alone to contemplate their futures.

        Chapter Seven
        The Arrival

        Exhausted from her ordeal of the previous night, Pat slept through most of the next day. Her captors woke the violated young woman up at some point in the afternoon, to feed her and Dr. Murray. She had to endure their cruel taunts of whether she preferred the diet that afternoon, or the meat they had fed her the previous night. Pat could feel her skin flush crimson with shame, as she remembered the events that had just transpired, how she had been taken repeatedly, and how her oversexed body had responded to this treatment by having orgasm after orgasm. The proof of her debauchery was plain for her to see--dried white cum lay crusted on her body, matting her bronze bush and long hair, coating her nipples and cheeks.

        The meal was surprisingly good, although considering how long it had been since she'd last eaten and after what she'd been through, almost anything would have been edible. Asking for clothing when the meal was done, Cartwright just laughed at her.

        "No, no, I much prefer to see you like this, my dear," came the reply. "Time enough when our friends arrive to attire you. And anyway, I think the doctor likes to see you like this as well...am I right, Dr. Murray?"

        The elderly doctor sputtered with indignation. "You cur!" he shouted. "Have you no decency? Do with me what you will, but leave the young lady alone!" Inwardly, Dr. Murray cringed. He knew that part of his vehemence was due to the fact that, despite himself, he had been stealing glances at Pat's nude, nubile form all day and notwithstanding his age and their situation, had found himself getting aroused. She was the most perfect specimen of womanhood he had ever seen and he couldn't help thinking about what she would be like to physically possess.

        "Very gallant, Doctor," replied Cartwright sarcastically. "However, I'm not planning on doing anything more to either of you...other than turning you over to my European friends, of course. What happens to you in their hands, I can't be responsible for. I would, however, advise both of you to get what rest you can this afternoon. I don't think either of you will be resting too well on the long trip under the sea!"

        Turning, the gang leader strode from the room, followed by his lackeys. The door shut behind them, leaving the woman of bronze and Doctor Murray alone once more. Pat didn't dwell on the thought of the ocean voyage which seemed imminent. If she were loaded on that submarine, the treatment she had gone through the night before would pale by comparison; her body would be violated hundreds of times by men who hadn't seen a woman in months, and who viewed her only as a handy vehicle on which to vent their lusts.. It wasn't something she wanted to think about. Though the situation was grim, Pat had the spirit of the Savages, the same spirit which had made her cousin the greatest man of his day. It was also, she recognized, the same spirit which had gotten her into this mess in the first place. However, just as she had gotten herself into it, she could get herself out of it, and she refused to give up hope.

        "Hang in there, Dr. Murray," she said, trying to boost his spirits and bolster her own. "It's not over yet. We're going to find a way to get out of this jam, just you see."

        Pat pulled and tugged at her bonds, trying to loosen them just the least little bit. Her exertions caused her golden globes to jiggle enticingly up and down, crinkled coral tips waving before her. The room, while not cold, was cool, and her nipples jutted out, seeming to be permanently erect. Caught up in trying to free herself, Pat didn't notice, but Dr. Murray did. For a moment he stared, slackjawed, at the firm twin mounds displayed before him, before he caught himself. Turning a deep scarlet, he averted his eyes, glad that Pat hadn't noticed him staring, but he couldn't help himself from sneaking covert glances at the bronzed beauty as she struggled to work herself free.

        "I...I...I've been trying to free myself all night," he stammered. "It's no use. I'm all done in."

        Not willing to give up, Pat strained at the ropes, pitting her strength and knowledge of rope tying against them. Although they didn't practice it regularly, she and Monk were into an occasional bit of bondage, and the young woman was fully familiar with every sort of knot and how to tie someone in order to leave them helpless. Even putting this knowledge to use, however, finally Pat slumped back, exhausted. She was forced to agree with her fellow prisoner. Though her body was now slick with perspiration from her efforts, whoever had tied her bonds knew what they were doing. No amount of work by her was going to set her free.

        "You're right," she admitted. "I'm trussed up too well to get loose. But at some point tonight, they're going to untie us and take us outside. We'll be guarded, but that's going to be our chance to make a break for it. I'm going to get some more rest and you should sleep too, if you can. You're going to need all your strength and you'll need to be alert later on. When we get a chance, we're going to have to jump on it, and jump on it fast. Once we leave this room, keep one eye on me. I'll try to signal you when I see our chance."

        Voicing his agreement, Dr. Murray closed his eyes. Though he was thoroughly exhausted, sleep proved elusive. Visions of Pat, naked, parading before him, doing things to him, kept running through his brain. Though he finally nodded off, he slept fitfully, his sleep filled with dreams of the divine young creature that was his fellow prisoner.

        For her part, Pat had long ago learned from Doc Savage the secret to falling asleep when desired and soon dozed off.

        The bronzed woman awoke some time later as the door to the office opened. Carlos, knife in hand, and a few of Cartwright's men entered. "It is time, senorita," he smiled, as he moved behind her. His blade flashed, and the ropes fell from her body. Pat gasped in pain, as the sudden flow of blood that had been partially cut off to her limbs resumed. She rose shakily to her feet, rubbing her arms and thighs, body prickling and tingling, weaving unsteadily while her circulation got back to normal. Though she was clearly not at full speed, the respect the gang members had for her showed as two of them kept her covered with revolvers at all times, giving her no opportunity to try to fight her way out, if she was so inclined.

        "Put these on," said one of the gang members, as he threw some old coveralls and boots at her. They were dirty, but Pat didn't demure; they were infinitely better than what she was currently wearing! The men whistled wolfishly as she slipped her long, trim legs into the coveralls.

        "I remember you wrappin' those beauties around me! You were beggin' me to fuck you!" called out one of them, to the delight of his fellows.

        Pat ignored them and finished getting dressed. Dr. Murray, also free, moved up next to her.

        "Both of you--hands behind you!" Carlos ordered. Not liking the odds if she tried anything, Pat obeyed, as did Dr. Murray. Their hands were swiftly bound behind them. Pat noticed that, once her hands were tied, the attention of the two gang members who were covering her with their guns seemed to lessen. Though they were still pointed at her, their attention was focused as intently as before.

        "Walk," said Carlos, prodding them forward from behind. The elderly doctor stumbled slightly before catching his balance and Pat smiled at him for encouragement. Leaving the office, they found the warehouse busy with activity, as the gang readied themselves for the arrival of their foreign friends. Pat noted that Cartwright must not have trusted his upcoming visitors completely, as his men were gearing up as if preparing for battle. Looking out the windows, Pat could see only the pitch black of the night. Though she didn't know exactly what time it was, she had always had a good internal clock and guessed that it was coming up on midnight. As she and Dr. Murray stood in the warehouse, guarded by Carlos and a few others, Pat did a few isometric exercises that her cousin had taught her, pitting muscle against muscle, to work the kinks out from having been motionless for so long. When a break came, she intended to be ready.

        The door to the outside opened and one of the gang members poked his head in. Looking around for Cartwright, he found him and shouted, "They're almost here! We just spotted them!"

        Cartwright nodded, finished speaking to a group of his men. Carrying Doc Savage's equipment vest that he had taken from Pat, the gang leader walked over to where Pat and Murray were standing, as his men began to file silently out of the warehouse.

        "Looks like you don't trust your buyers, Cartwright," observed Pat, commenting on the firepower carried by Cartwright's men.

        "Oh, I trust them enough," he replied. "But only a fool doesn't take precautions, just in case. However, I have every expectation that things will go according to plan and that, in a very short while, I'll be several million dollars richer, embarking on a life of luxury, while you, my dear, will be embarking on a life on your back."

        Pat's gold-flecked eyes flashed. "Pig!" she spat at him. "Selling out your own country, just to line your pockets. Thousands of innocent people--women, children-- will die from what you're about to do! And for what? So you can make a few lousy bucks? You make me sick!"

        "Well, I may not meet your patriotic ideals but frankly, I couldn't care less," Cartwright admitted. "And unlike the Man of Bronze, who for some reason never seems to want for money, my pockets aren't filled to overflowing with the green stuff. This is my chance to make the big score and I'm not passing it up! My only regret about the whole affair is that I can't keep you around as my playmate, but that would be much too dangerous, with your big, bad cousin running around. He'll doubtless try to find you, and I don't think I'd want to be there if he did. Little chance of that where you're going, however. If it's any consolation, I'm not entirely a monster--I'll always cherish the special moments we shared!"

        Pat was furious but restrained herself from lashing out with a hard but shapely heel at Cartwright. If she let herself be goaded into attacking him, she could be knocked out or, at the least, be bound more securely so that escape would be impossible. With only her hands tied, there was a chance, if an opportunity arose.

        "Bring them," the gang leader ordered, as he turned and strode out of the warehouse. Prodded by Carlos and his men, Pat and the elderly doctor followed into the black night.

        As her eyes adjusted, Pat could see that the sky was clear and free of clouds. Though there was no moon, millions of stars twinkled in the firmament. The calls of wildlife prowling through the woods, seeking a meal or seeking to avoid being a meal, punctuated the night. Spotlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the area between the warehouse and the wharf. As they were marched towards the docks, the light of the stars, reflecting off the inky water, was sufficient for Pat to make out a submarine slowly cruising along the surface of the bay, heading for the wharf where Cartwright and his men awaited. A speedboat was tied to the wooden wharf, bobbing gently in the waves, as the swell caused by the approaching sub slapped against the shore. Glancing from side to side as they walked, Pat was alert for any chance to break free, but none presented itself. Her guards were vigilant and alert. Any hopes she had held of them being lulled by the calm of the night air were apparently not going to be fulfilled.

        The young adventuress at first assumed that the speedboat would be used to ferry men to and from the submarine, but as they reached the wharf, she saw that this was not the case. Coming to a stop not far offshore, the hatch on the sub fell open with a metallic "clang!" Men clambered out on deck, merely shapes in the meager light. An inflatable raft was lowered to the water. Crewman climbed down into it, pushed off from the sub and rowed towards shore.

        A moment's work brought them to the wharf. Calling down to the boat, some of Cartwright's men grasped a rope that was thrown up to them, securing the small boat to the wharf. A few seconds later men in dark uniforms climbed up from the boat onto the dock. Weapons at their sides or slung over their shoulders, their bearing was arrogant, as they alertly took in Cartwright and his men waiting for them at the end of the dock. Cartwright's men were a gang--the new arrivals were professional killers. Although Cartwright's men outnumbered them, looking at their demeanor as they approached, Pat had a feeling that each one of the submarine's crew was a match for several gang members. Their steps echoed in unison as they stalked across the wooden wharf and came to a halt a few feet in front of where Cartwright, flanked by Pat, Dr. Murray, Carlos and some his men, waited.

        Though her coveralls did little to hide her feminine charms--and, in fact, displayed an impressive amount of the bronzed woman's cleavage--only a slight widening of the newcomers' eyes as they observed her indicated that her presence there was a surprise to them.

        One of the sub's crew stepped slightly forward. Above a trimmed black mustache, his black eyes took in the sight before him. There was a hint of disdain in his gaze. Staring back at him, Cartwright stiffened at what might be an insult, before relaxing slightly. For the amount of money he was going to receive, he could put up with a little arrogance on the part of his buyer.

        "You are Herr Cartwright?" inquired the man with the mustache in clipped tones.

        Stepping forward slightly, Cartwright extended his hand. "I am. And you must be Captain Weller. A pleasure to meet you, Captain."

        "Ja. The pleasure is mine," replied the U-boat commander as he shook Cartwright's offered hand in a firm grasp. "You have the plans and the doctor?"

        "But of course, my dear Captain," responded Cartwright. He pointed to his left. "The elderly gentleman tied up there is Doctor Howard Murray, inventor of the homing device." Murray stood there, looking miserable. "The plans are in the briefcase held by my man next to him. You have the agreed upon payment?"

        "Ja," came the reply. Weller motioned at one of his men, who stepped forward with a briefcase. Holding it in front of Cartwright, he snapped it open. Inside were bundles of $100 dollar bills. Without thought, Cartwright exhaled loudly as he viewed the millions that would soon be his.

        Cartwright nodded. "Very good, very good, Captain Weller. All that remains is to finish the exchange, and we'll both be on our way, me considerably richer, you and your country in possession of the means of creating powerful new weapons. A fair bargain for all parties. But before we do, as a goodwill gesture, I wish to present you with a surprise."

        Captain Weller arched an eyebrow inquisitively at Cartwright but said nothing. His men stiffened slightly, unsure of what the surprise would be, but alert for treachery.

        After a brief silence, disappointed he had not been asked, Cartwright continued. "You are, I assume, familiar with Clark Savage, Jr., the man the newspapers call the Man of Bronze?"

        At the mention of the bronze man's name, Captain Weller and his men started, their arrogant demeanor temporarily shaken. "Ja, ja, we have heard of this Doctor Savage. He fought against us with valor in the Great War. An amazing individual, from all accounts, and one I am sure people in your line of work here in the United States try to avoid."

        "Yes, I assumed that the fame of the bronze devil had spread to your country. And you're right--few people tangle with Doc Savage and live to tell the tale. But you may not be aware that the bronze man has a cousin, a female cousin. I am, of course, speaking of the lovely Patricia Savage, soon to be late of Manhattan." Cartwright gestured and one of his men pushed Pat ahead. Pat stepped forward defiantly, chin held high, her golden-flecked gaze flickering back and forth between Cartwright and the U-boat commander. If looks could kill, they would both have been deep in Davy Jones' locker.

        One of Weller's men whistled softly before catching himself. Though dishevelled from the treatment she had received, she stood like an Aryan goddess before her captors, defiance in every inch of her luscious frame. They could do what they wanted with her body, but they could never break the Savage spirit. The blue fabric of the coveralls was pulled taut over her firm, jutting breasts, hinting at the golden glories beneath. The twin globes of her asscheeks filled out the material behind her exquisitely, seemingly begging to be caressed. The sight of her was enough to bring a man of stone to life...and a man of flesh to stonelike hardness. Having been given no opportunity to clean up, the remains of the previous evenings activities were plain to see on her cheeks and chest, as dried cum was crusted white, there and in her bronze tresses. Though they said nothing, the devouring looks that the submarine's crew gave her as they took in the vision before them left little doubt that, given half a chance, they would give anything to see their own cum splattering hotly on the young woman as well.

        "So, this is Patricia Savage," mused Captain Weller. Clicking his heels together, he gave a slight bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, fraulein."

        "I'm afraid I can't reciprocate your feelings, Captain," Pat Savage replied. "If there were any honor left among you, you'd take Cartwright prisoner and free Dr. Murray and myself."

        Captain Weller shook his head. "Well then, I am afraid we have a different concept of honor, Fraulein Savage. I am a soldier and I perform my tasks to the best of my ability. My country needs Dr. Murray and his device and it will have them." Looking at Cartwright, he asked, "If I may inquire what the young lady is doing here?"

        "Certainly, my dear Captain" said Cartwright. "Miss Savage was stupid enough to involve herself in our affairs last night. We captured her and, being the gentlemen that we are, kept her...ah...entertained, shall we say?...all last evening. And I can safely state that while Doc Savage may be a physical marvel, he doesn't have anything on his cousin! But therein lies my dilemma. As delectable a morsel as Miss Savage proved to be, her infernal cousin is bound to come looking for her. And based on the stories about him, he's likely to find her if she's in the U.S. For obvious reasons, that's something I'd prefer to avoid. But you, my dear Captain, will be on a submarine for quite awhile while returning to your country. I am sure both you and your men could think of many interesting ways to entertain the young woman during the long voyage back. She is a woman of many skills. I would appreciate it if, as a gesture from a friend, you accept her from me as my gift to you."

        Captain Weller involuntarily licked his lips as he gazed hungrily at the bronze bombshell. The gleam in his eyes betrayed his thoughts, as he contemplated all of the uses he could put the lovely Pat to on the trip home. "A princely gift, Herr Cartwright." He bowed to the gang leader. "My men and I thank you. Each of my crew has performed well on the trip to your country, it will be good to give them all a little reward! I am sure we will be able to occupy her fully on the journey. And once in my country, I have a friend who runs an establishment, catering to those of the upper class with expensive, and sometimes unusual, tastes. By the time we reach our shores, her spirit will be broken. As long as we take care not to permanently mark her on our voyage, with her beauty, she will earn me a great deal from those seeking new diversions."

        Hearing the captain's words, Pat's blood grew cold. Though she had known the likely fate awaiting her on the submarine, hearing it expressed brought it to life vividly. The crew of the sub hadn't had a woman in weeks. Her firm young body would be violated over and over again on the trip as the crewmen used her to slake their lusts, singly and in groups. Her life would become one long episode of being fucked by strangers whose only thought of her was as a tool to bring themselves off. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of her fate.

        Cartwright smiled. "Of course, Captain Weller. Pat Savage is yours, free to do with as you wish. I am sure that she will supply you with countless hours of pleasure. And now, perhaps, we can conclude our business. You have a long voyage to begin, and I, too, have places I need to go.

        "Certainly, Herr Cartwright, certainly." At a gesture from his captain, the crewman with the briefcase of money handed it to Cartwright, taking in turn the briefcase containing the plans for Dr. Murray's invention. The elderly inventor was hauled forward and handed over to the submarine crew as well.

        Pat looked on the exchange with despair. No opportunity for a break had presented itself, and the proceedings were swiftly coming to a conclusion. The bronze adventuress had been surreptitiously working on her bindings while the gang's attention was focused on the discussion between the two leaders. Tied with much less care than the ropes that had bound her in the warehouse, she had loosened them to the point where she could free herself in an instant, but to what effect? Still, time was running out. The guard at her side was no longer paying careful attention to her. Pat calculated. It was a longshot, but she could probably take him out and grab his gun, then hopefully grab the plans and the doctor. Shooting Cartwright and blazing away at the crew of the sub would likely create some confusion. With luck, it would be enough that they could make it to the speedboat and make their escape. But if not, getting gunned down while trying to get away was preferable to the fate awaiting her onboard the submarine.

        The atmosphere around the wharf, wrought with tension when the two groups first met, had slowly loosened as their leaders talked. The tension had particularly ebbed after Cartwright's gift of Pat Savage to the submarine commander. Treachery seemed a remote possibility. Some of Cartwright's men had begun joking among themselves, discussing what they'd be spending their money on.

        Accordingly, when the warehouse exploded in a fiery blast, everyone was caught offguard.

        The ground shook with the force of the explosion. Wooden debris rained down upon the warehouse grounds. One of the sedans lifted up, flipped over from the concussion. Shards of wood hurtled through the air, penetrating skin as if hammered in. Though none of his men had been in the warehouse, nearly a dozen of Cartwright's men were knocked to their feet, the rest staggered, as cries of surprise mingled with those of the wounded in the chilly air.

        On the wharf, the explosion rocked the pilings, causing the elderly Doctor Murray to lose his balance and go down. The submarine crew and Cartwright's men swayed but stayed on their feet. They darted wild glances all about, searching for the source of the blast. Men from Cartwright's gang ran about aimlessly, seeking to find out what had happened.

        Swift as bronzed lightning, Pat Savage seized her chance. Twisting her hands, she slipped her bonds, rope falling to the ground. She lunged at the nearest guard. A bronze fist shot out, clipped the guard in the jaw. He dropped like a stone. Pat snatched the pistol from his hand as he fell, whirled on Cartwright.

        Suddenly, the night air was alive with the roar of machinegun fire. Hearing the sound, Pat brightened. Near her, Cartwright blanched, face turning white as the blood drained from it. There was no mistaking that distinctive sound. It was the roar from Doc Savage's supermachine pistols! Somehow, the Man of Bronze and his men had tracked his cousin and had launched an attack!

        Smoke billowed from the burning wreckage of the warehouse, turning the night into a scene from Dante's inferno. And within the gray smoke, a ghost moved, a bronze ghost of vengeance flitting through the night. A ghost with a deadly touch!

        Bronze hands flickered out like licks of flame, seeming to but touch Cartwright's men. But each man who was touched dropped instantly, as if felled by magic! Though they didn't know it, fitted over the Man of Bronze's fingers were tiny thimblelike devices of his own invention, containing needles coated with a powerful anesthetic. A slight prick was enough to put the strongest man down. Seeing the spectral figure of crookdom's greatest enemy weaving in and out of the fog, bronze face burning like a brand in the flickering light from the blazing wreckage of the warehouse, Cartwright's men screamed, firing wildly. Some threw down their weapons and ran into the night.

        But the Man of Bronze was not alone. Though he disdained the use of firearms, his men had no such compunctions. Superfirers set on full auto, they pumped a hail of bullets into Cartwright's gang, dropping them like flies. Firing back blindly into the night, the gang returned fire, but they were shooting into the dark, while they themselves were outlined against the blaze of the warehouse, making them perfect targets.

        Hearing the attack, Cartwright knew the wrath of the bronze man would be brutal if he learned what had befallen his cousin at his hands the previous night. He had only one chance--Pat Savage must die! Snarling a curse, he grabbed at his pistol, yanking it from its holster.

        The bronze adventuress was quicker. As Cartwright raised his gun, the pistol in Pat's hand spoke. The projectile shattered Cartwright's hand. Screaming in pain, his gun dropped to the ground.

        Before Pat could do more, Carlos leapt at her! Knife slashing, he screamed, "I'm gonna cut you, bitch!"

        The blade licked out as Pat sprang back. The razor sharp steel ripped at her, went through the fabric of her outfit, ripped up! If not for her lightning reflexes, the young woman would have been killed right there. Her backwards leap, however, had carried her just far enough out of Carlos' reach. Though the knife tore through her coveralls, slashing them from her stomach to their top, it only scored her skin lightly. Before Carlos could press his attack, Pat's gun spoke, once, twice.

        The first bullet took Carlos in the forehead, blowing him backwards. The knife flew out of his hand and sank with a "splash!" into the inky water. The second was aimed not at Carlos, but at Cartwright, who had used his remaining good hand to pick up the pistol he had dropped. The slug caught him in the chest, staggering him. Blood spurted from the wound, darkening his shirt and splashing down like warm red rain on the wooden dock. "Damn you," he croaked, before falling face down on the wharf. His body twitched once, before laying motionless.

        As the battle raged, the submarine commander decided to cut his losses. He had the plans and Doctor Murray. It was a shame, but Pat Savage would have to be left behind. "Back to the boat!" shouted Captain Weller, as he turned and raced down the wharf. His men followed close behind him, one clutching the suitcase holding the plans for Doctor Murray's device. One of his other crew clutched at the elderly scientist, pulled him to his feet and began shepherding him down the dock towards their boat.

        Back towards the warehouse, the battle raged on but Doc Savage and his men were rapidly overcoming the remnants of Cartwright's gang. Superfirer empty, Ham Brooks had leapt into the fray with his swordcane. The blade, coated with a powerful drug, licked among the gang members, dropping them in their tracks. The dapper attorney's usually immaculate garb was torn where bullets had ripped through, but one of Doc's bulletproof vests had kept him, as well as each of Doc's other men, from serious harm.

        Colonel John Renwick's fists, big as milk pails, smashed into opponents. Renny's favorite pastime was using his gargantuan fists to knock out door panels. Cartwright's men were considerably softer than door panels. When Renny hit a man, he stayed hit...and down. The giant engineer had a dour expression on his face which, paradoxically, meant that he was enjoying himself immensely. A human bulldozer, he rumbled through the opposition, heading for the wharf. Fast as he was, however, he trailed both Doc and the remaining member of their complement, Monk.

        Monk had literally gone ape. Seeing his lover nearly being sliced open on the wharf, a red mist had descended over his vision. Crazed with fury, his simian form bowled opponents over as he fought to reach Pat Savage's side. Those unfortunate to get in Monk's way wailed in agony as he twisted and tore at bodies and limbs, crushing bones with his brute strength, ripping flesh with his bare hands.

        The wind, which had been blowing smoke towards the wharf, shifted suddenly, clearing the smoke between Doc's group and the wharf, giving them their first clear view of Pat as they raced towards her. Their jaws dropped in amazement.

        "Holy cow!" rumbled Renny.

        "Blazes!" exclaimed Monk.

        "By Jove!" uttered Ham.

        Only the Man of Bronze maintained his silence, his impassive face seemingly cast in bronze as he took in the sight that met him and his men. His eyes, however, betrayed his emotion, as gold flecks swirled madly in them. Though it was the bronze man's creed never to take a life when he could help it, the sight of his cousin and the state she was in was nearly enough to make him forget his oath.

        Pat was sprinting along the wharf after Captain Weller and his men. In one hand she held a pistol, in her other she gripped Doc's utility vest that Cartwright had dropped when she had shot him. Her coveralls had been ripped by Carlos' knife, freeing her breasts from confinement. The coral tipped mounds, nipples hardened in the chill night air, were on display for all to see. A thin line of red scored her stomach where the blade had touched her, from which blood slowly welled forth in crimson droplets to dot her bronzed flesh. Her dishevelled hair bespoke of the treatment she had endured at the hands of Cartwright's gang. Doc Savage and his men were infuriated as they tore through the remaining opposition.

        Captain Weller and most of his crew had reached the end of the wharf, leaping into the waiting boat. Only the crew member bringing Dr. Murray along remained on the wharf. The elderly scientist, desperate to avoid his fate, had been struggling the entire way, slowing the crewman down. Though she was rapidly closing the gap between them, Pat realized as she ran that she wouldn't reach them in time, that Dr. Murray would be loaded into the boat before she could get to him.

        On the fly her gunhand came up. Scarce seeming to aim, her pistol cracked out its message of death. An excellent marksman, Pat's aim was true. A blistering slug slammed into the back of the crewman. Spinning around from the impact of the hot lead, he lost his grip on the old scientist and pirouetted off the dock, arms flailing, splashing loudly into the cold water. Exhausted, Dr. Murray fell gasping on the wood planks.

        One of the sub's crew made to clamber back onto the dock, but was stopped by a command from Captain Weller. "No!" the U-boat's commander shouted. "Leave him! We have the plans, that's all we need! The Fatherland's scientists can work with those! Go, go! Macht schnell!"

        The small boat shot away from the dock, heading swiftly for the submarine. A few of the crew members turned their firearms on the dock, while a machinegun was unlimbered on the sub. A hail of lead flew at Pat. Bullets whizzed all around her. The submarine's gunner tried to mow down Doc Savage and his men. Buzzing lead kicked up dirt all around them, forcing them to dive for cover.

        Shouting at Dr. Murray to stay down, Pat leapt off the dock and dove into the bay. Her body cut the cold water cleanly, sliding through it like a mermaid. A few powerful strokes underwater brought her to the side of the speedboat, still tied to the wharf. Grasping the rail, she pulled herself up and over, into the boat. She had dropped her gun when she had hit the water, but her other hand still grasped the utility vest. Arising drenched and dripping from the bottom of the boat, she sprang for the controls, kicked the engine into life.

        At the submarine, Captain Weller and his men had swiftly boarded and clambered below decks. The hatch clanged shut behind them, and the vessel turned, moving towards the open sea. The waters here were too shallow to take the sub down, but it was not far to deeper water, where it could safely submerge.

        Pat grimaced. If the submarine escaped, her rescue of Dr. Murray would be of little value to the world. Though his life had been saved, his invention, capable of raining death and destruction upon thousands, would be in the hands of those who would use it without hesitation. The submarine must be stopped at all costs!

        The bronze adventuress gunned the engine. The speedboat sprang forward as if it were a wild bronco, maddened by confinement. The rope holding it to the wharf snapped taut. With a sharp splintering, that part of the boat's rail to which the line was tied gave way as the boat thundered for the open water. Opening up the throttle, Pat gave chase to the U-boat.

        Her boat bounced up and down on the waves, cresting them and launching into the air before splashing down, sending foam spraying everywhere. Pat, still soaked from her swim, was sprayed by mist as she fairly flew after the escaping submarine. The prow of the boat sliced through the water leaving an angry wake, swells slapping into the shore.

        Standing in the boat, Pat looked like a bronzed goddess, like a vengeful Diana on the hunt. Her glistening breasts, crimson nipples hard as diamonds, heaved with emotion and with the up and down motion of the boat. Her wet bronze hair flew wildly in the wind, bespecked with ocean foam, seemingly imbued with a life of its own as it cracked whiplike around her face. Cold water sprayed in sheets over her body, drenching her and her clothing, beading on her determined face before being swept back and away by the wind created by her mad chase.

        As she sped towards the escaping submarine, Pat swiftly donned the utility vest. Engine throbbing, the boat shot along the waves towards its quarry, steadily closing the gap. Closer and closer she drew to the sub, but Pat saw with consternation that the vessel was beginning to submerge. It was going to be tight, very tight.

        Fighting the chop caused by the diving vessel, Pat expertly piloted the speeding boat alongside the submarine, which by now had nearly sunk beneath the waves completely. Only the conning tower remained above water, and that too was disappearing rapidly.

        Matching velocity with the U-boat, Pat suddenly relinquished the controls of the boat and hurled herself overboard! Arms outstretched, she sailed through the air towards the submarine! A bronze hand lashed out, grasped for the railing of the conning tower. She grabbed it...but her grip slipped on the slick metal and she slid backwards towards the stern of the sub. Pat was frantic--she was going to get swept away from the sub!

        Flailing around with her other hand, scrambling for purchase, she lunged forward. Her fingers brushed the rail, closed on it in a viselike grip, mere seconds before the tower sank completely beneath the surface of the bay. Desperately holding onto the submarine, the bronze adventuress was dragged under the water. Tendrils of silken hair floated momentarily on the crest of a wave before vanishing from sight.

        Fifteen seconds passed, thirty. Only a slight ripple in the surface of the water betrayed the sub's passage as it headed out towards open sea, bearing its cargo of death.

        More time passed. Over a minute had now gone by since Pat Savage had been pulled beneath the cold waves, but the smooth surface of the bay remained unbroken. Nothing--no one--had surfaced in that time.

        Suddenly, the night air was split with a tremendous explosion! Water geysered up in a tower, beginning deep in the depths, reaching for the sky before falling back to earth and smashing into the bay with a thunderous crash. Ocean foam cascaded against the shore, slapping out an angry rhythm.

        On the heels of the first blast came a second! A tremendous fountain of water gushed forth! The water roiled like a creature mortally wounded, thrashing about in the throes of death. The stench of oil filled the clean night air as thousands of gallons were released into the water!

        From the shore, Monk, Ham and Renny looked on aghast as they witnessed the blasts. Monk let out a scream of anguish, ripped from his guts, while his companions stared, whitefaced, in silence at the scene unfolding before them in the bay. Standing slightly behind them, the elder Doctor Murray bowed his head as he thought of the young woman who had saved him and risked her life to stop his invention from falling into the wrong hands. Pat and the sub had passed out of range of the starlight during her chase. With sinking hearts they witnessed the explosions and their aftermath. It seemed unlikely that Pat could have withstood their fury and survived.

        A whirring sound above them caused them to look up. Circling overhead was the autogyro Pat had taken from Doc's warehouse! The Man of Bronze was at the controls, his face grim. While Pat had given chase to the submarine, Doc had raced back alone for the autogyro, moving faster than seemed humanly possible. Several track records would have been shattered had he been timed during his frantic dash to the plane.

        A rope ladder hung swaying down from the open door of the autogyro. The bronze man motioned at the ladder to his men. Agile as a chimpanzee, Monk leapt for it, wrapped his arms and legs in it. Secure, he shouted up at his leader. Though the wind carried his words away, Doc understood. Pointing the plane away from shore, he sped over the waves, flying swiftly to the location of the dual blasts!

        They reached the site of the explosions. A powerful searchlight mounted on the bottom of the autogyro stabbed through the darkness. The surface of the water was littered with oil and debris bobbing on the waves. It was clear that, somehow, Pat had managed to destroy the U-boat. Monk and Doc couldn't tell, however, if her efforts had also led to her own destruction.

        Circling in ever widening arcs over the blast area, the eagle eyes of Doc Savage spotted a larger piece of wreckage a short distance off. Nudging the controls, he sent the plane swooping towards it. As it approached its target, the glare of the spotlight revealed the speedboat. Though the blasts had capsized it, the boat still floated on the surface of the water.

        And clinging to the side of the boat, waving at them weakly, was Pat Savage!

        Though the roar of the autogyro drowned him out, on the rope ladder below Monk whooped for joy as he spotted her. Dangling from the flying craft, the ladder swayed from side to side as Monk swung with exhuberance. In the cabin of the autogyro, the bronze man smiled broadly. Though there were many who felt that the Man of Bronze was emotionless--and indeed he disliked showing open emotion--they would have changed their view if they could have seen him then, relief at finding his cousin alive sweeping over his usually impassive face.

        Slowing the plane as much as possible, Doc sent the autogyro spiraling down towards the makeshift lifeboat. Below on the ladder, Monk hooked his legs in the rungs, before letting go with his hands and hanging suspended downward. Under the deft control of the Man of Bronze, the plane approached the bobbing boat. As the ladder passed alongside Pat, she thrust an arm out, reaching for her lover. Monk grabbed her hand in his. In a prodigious display of strength, he swung up, lifting the soaked woman out of the water. As he reached an upright position, he brought her body in to the ladder, allowing Pat to grasp the rope while her feet found purchase. Holding the exhausted young woman securely against him, Monk glanced up at Doc Savage, nodded. Doc nodded back. The autogyro described a lazy loop as it turned from the open sea and headed back to shore, its twin passenger cargo dangling beneath it in the starlight.

        A few moments later, the autogyro taxied to a stop on the parking lot of the ruined warehouse. Pat and Monk had climbed up the ladder into the cabin of the vehicle during the short trip back to shore. Pat had collapsed, exhausted, on the floor of the autogyro, but had smiled her thanks to her cousin. Monk removed his coat and wrapped it around the cold woman, whose clothing was soaked from her watery adventure. Though the twin globes he had delighted in so many times were revealed in all their perfect glory to his gaze, the coverall and utility vest now in ruins, for the first time in his life the sight didn't make him horny. He was just relieved that, other than some minor cuts and bruises, Pat appeared to be alright.

        Ham and Renny ran to meet the plane as it came to a stop. Considerably slower, Dr. Howard Murray hobbled up behind them. Assisting Pat out of the plane as well, Doc and Monk disembarked. Hair in shambles, wearing an amalgam of Monk's coat, the coveralls and the utility vest, oil smudged on her face, Pat was not exactly at her radiant best.

        "Holy cow, Pat!" exclaimed Renny. "Are you alright?"

        His question set off a barrage of others, as they began to pepper her with queries about her health and what had just happened. Finding that Dr. Murray had not yet been introduced to Doc and his men, Pat did so, before swiftly retelling the events of the past few days. Of course, she left out such details as her activities with Melissa and Chuck the warehouse guard. She also glossed over her treatment at the hands of her captors, though it was clear from the grim expressions on their faces that Doc and his men guessed at least some of what had occurred.

        Monk hung by her side during the entire story. Though neither he nor Pat did anything overt, the Man of Bronze glanced reflectively between his cousin and his aide on occasion, but whatever thoughts filled his mind behind his gold-flecked eyes remained known to him alone.

        The bronze woman neared the end of recollecting her adventure. "Holding on to the railing of the submarine's conning tower with one hand while it submerged, I quickly took a few of your grenades out of the utility vest. I lodged them against the hatch and set the timers as best I could, before kicking free from the sub and heading back for the surface. I had just poked my head above water when they blew. Then I guess the sub's boiler or something exploded as well. I thought the force of the blasts was going to crush my ribs! I was tossed about for a moment, then I saw the speedboat and just managed to swim over to it. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up soon--I was just about done in! Thanks loads, all of you!" she concluded, flashing a pearly smile at Doc and his men.

        Turning to Doc, she asked, "I take it you got my message?"

        The Man of Bronze nodded. "Yes. Luckily we wrapped up the bulk of our business yesterday--and to think we didn't tell you where we were going so you wouldn't follow and get yourself into trouble! We left Long Tom and Johnny behind to finish straightening up a few loose ends and just returned to New York a few hours ago. I noticed that someone had visited headquarters and found the message you'd left written on the mirror. Proceeding to the warehouse, Charlie told us that you had talked him into taking the autogyro." At that statement, a faint blush suffused Pat's cheeks but in the dark it passed unnoticed.

        Doc continued. "From that point on it was easy to home in on the autogyro's homing device. When you weren't there we searched the area. We spotted the men gathered here and figured this was where you probably were. Then we saw you standing at the wharf and...well...you know the rest."

        Pat's voice cracked with emotion. "Thanks Doc...thanks all of you, Monk, Ham, Renny. You guys are swell. I'm sorry to have put you to so much trouble though."

        "Aww, it was nothin', Pat," Monk voiced on behalf of Doc's men. "If anything happened to you, none of us would ever be able to forgive ourselves."

        "Monk's exactly right, Pat," Doc Savage gravely interjected. "None of us would have ever been able to forgive ourselves. Now's not the time to go into it, but our work--the work you did tonight--is just too dangerous. If you keep doing this sort of thing, sticking your nose in trouble and seeing where it leads you, you're going to get seriously hurt or worse."

        Seeing the stricken expression coming over his cousin's face, Doc moderated his tone, "I will say, however, that in the wrong hands, Doctor Murray's invention would have been devastating. Though it was too bad you had to sink the submarine, far better that than that the plans had been obtained by a war-hungry country. I'll make some dives tomorrow and see if I can locate them, though they were probably swept out to sea. But in a few days when you're feeling better, we are going to have a serious talk, young lady!"

        Pat smiled. "Don't worry, cousin," she replied. "This little episode has cured me of my love for adventure. From now on, the most exciting thing I'm going to look forward to doing is my nails."

        Seeing the disbelieving looks that were taking shape on the faces of Doc and his men, Pat laughed and concluded her statement. "At least for a little while!"

        Chapter Eight
        Pat's New Adventure

        Laying on her bed, eyes closed, Pat Savage felt a wet tongue playfully licking her left nipple, sliding along it but not sucking the hardened little bud into the warm mouth from which it came. "Oooh, that feels nice," she cooed. "Whose tongue is that? Can I open my eyes now, please? Pretty please?"

        The tongue left her tit, which remained slick and shiny with saliva. A woman's voice laughed, "Aww, poor baby, she wants to see, does she? You can't tell the difference in our tongues, hmmm? I'm hurt! Well, alright, you can look all you want, Miss Impatient!"

        The bronze woman's golden-flecked orbs instantly flicked opened, eagerly drinking in the sight before her.

        For Pat Savage was not alone in her bed. Joining her on the crumpled silk sheets to the left of her lithe form was Melissa. The diminutive brunette was dressed to match Pat--in her birthday suit. Perky, cherry-tipped breasts greeted Pat's eyes, which hungrily travelled down the young woman's scrumptious young body. She was kneeling on the bed next to Pat, smiling at her lover, her hands on her knees, momentarily obscuring her most intimate feminine charms from sight. Pat's momentary frustration at not being able to see Melissa's oh-so-pretty flower was quickly tempered by the thought that in a few minutes, she would not only be seeing it but inhaling its delightful bouquet and drinking its nectar.

        And--similarly attired--to Pat's right was Monk. The homely chemist was grinning ear to ear as he stared at Pat like he was a man dying of thirst and she was cool, spring water. He very much looked like a man intent on slaking his thirst, as was evidenced by the state of his male member, which waved proudly erect.

        "Blazes!" Monk said softly to himself, as he looked back and forth at the twin nude visions before him. It was an expression he'd been uttering for the last half hour, ever since he'd arrived at Pat's apartment on her invitation. Expecting to find Pat alone, he had at first been a little surprised to find Melissa--whom he knew only as one of Pat's employees--waiting there as well. Surprise had quickly turned to outright shock as Melissa had whispered to him her thoughts on making this a night to remember for their mutual lover. Monk felt like pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but he'd already done that enough times to leave a small bruise and as of yet, he still hadn't awakened. Nor did he want to.

        If someone had told him a few days ago that he'd soon be in the situation he was in now, the chemist would have told him he was nuts. Monk thought back briefly to the events of those last few days. Returning from the site of the battle, Doc had sent to his Crime College those members of Cartwright's gang who had been mowed down by the mercy bullets fired by the superfirers. There, at this facility in upstate New York, they would have their criminal impulses removed and be retrained as productive members of society. Diving in the waters of the bay the next day, Doc and his men had found the wreckage of the submarine and several bodies, but no sign of the plans for Dr. Murray's invention. They were presumed to have washed out to sea. There had been little opportunity for Monk to be alone with Pat, though she had spent a fair amount of time at Doc's headquarters. When he had managed to get some time alone with her, though she wanted him to hold her, it had seemed that there was an invisible barrier between them. She didn't volunteer any additional information about her evening spent as the gang's captive, and Monk had deemed it best not to ask. If she had something she wanted to share, she would do so, in her own time.

        Monk had had no idea that when the invisible barrier came down, that the something Pat would want to share would not only be herself, but her stunning assistant as well.

        With the result that he now was laying in bed with two gorgeous, naked women!

        "Blazes!" he exclaimed once more, still unable to believe his good fortune.

        Melissa and Pat giggled. "If you say that one more time," said Pat. "I'll start to think there's a fire here! Although my pussy is certainly on fire," she continued, reaching out with a hand and grasping Monk's erect shaft. "And I think I've found just the fire hose to put out the blaze."

        Monk groaned with delight as he felt Pat's slim fingers close over his cock, encircling it in a loving grip. Her fingers slowly slid up and down, stroking the shaft lazily, her red nail polish standing out in stunning contrast to the color of Monk's flesh.

        Fondling one of Pat's golden globes with one of her hands, making sure the jutting nipple remained firm, Melissa gazed avidly at Monk's erection. Standing proudly at attention, it was by far the largest the young woman had seen--although to be honest, her choice in lovers had generally tended towards those of the female persuasion. Still, staring at her lover's red-tipped fingers sliding up and down it, a drop of pre-cum gathering in the slit, her pretty pussy grew wet at the thought of tasting it.

        Leaning over, Melissa playfully slapped Pat's hand. "Hey, you promised to share!" she laughed, as she brought her face down level with Monk's cock.

        "So, who's stopping you?" replied Pat impishly, though she didn't relinquish her grip.

        The touch of Melissa's pink tongue on his cock was electric, as Monk stared down at the young woman extending her tongue and flicking it across the head of his shaft, while Pat continued to slide her hand up and down. Pat's other hand reached out and began to caress Melissa's supple thigh, which was firmly pressed against her, causing her young assistant to open her legs slightly to encourage the hand to wander further.

        "Why you horny little slut!" Pat exclaimed at this reaction, as her fingers crept forward and brushed against Melissa's slit, already wet with her love juices. Melissa just grinned but said nothing. Her tongue was busy bathing Monk's dick, licking up and down and all around it, cleaning the salty drop at its head off of it. Her moist tongue slid across both Monk's swollen shaft as well as Pat's busy hand. Monk's erection grew slick with her saliva, permitting Pat's fingers to slide more easily along his length and work their magic.

        Monk gasped in delight as Melissa, her tongue reaching the apex of his cock, opened her mouth wider and leaned slightly forward, taking him into her mouth and slowly slithering down on his prick. His hands reached out involuntarily, caressed her long, black tresses which were unfolded over his groin. "Oh yeah, baby," he murmured. "That feels so good...so good. God, Pat, Melissa's got a great little mouth!"

        Pat laughed. "Don't I know it!" she replied. "But she's not the only one!"

        Shifting on the bed, Pat kept one hand playing with Melissa's damp cunt. Her fingers toyed with her labial lips, sliding up along them and circling Melissa's hard little clit with her honeyed wetness. Melissa moaned with pleasure as she felt the folds of her vagina being parted by Pat's clever little fingers, felt them slipping along her lower lips, teasing her little nubbin which was excitedly erect. During the course of their relationship, the woman of bronze had brought her nubile young assistant to many intense orgasms using nothing more than her long fingers, but Melissa never tired of feeling them rub against her. Pat knew all the right spots, all the right motions, to turn her on and fan the flames of lust within her.

        By shifting on the silk sheets, Pat had moved into a kneeling position beside Melissa. She leaned forward, fascinated, as she watched the knob of her male lover's cock slowly disappearing into the warm mouth of her female lover. Watching Melissa's mouth open wide to accept the prize before it, seeing her red lips sliding down the shaft which had given Pat so much pleasure, Melissa's cheeks hollowing with the suction she was creating, was intensely erotic to Doc's cousin. Pat could feel her core melting, her satiny inner walls releasing their honey, its fragrance beginning to waft into the room and mingle with Melissa's musk.

        When Melissa reached the tip of Monk's cock on her upstroke, she found Pat's mouth waiting there, crimson lips parted breathlessly. She leaned forward, lower lip still sliding along Monk's shaft, and began to kiss the woman of bronze, first playfully, then with increasing passion. Melissa's lustrous eyes, so innocent seeming, stared intently into Pat's gold-flecked ones as they lapped at each other's mouths and their shared prick.

        Staring down, Monk could see the two women's tongues dueling with each other, laving the head of his penis with their saliva. Though he prided himself on his stamina, the sight and sensation of the two naked beauties, round asscheeks pulled taut as they kneeled before him, french- kissing each other, sucking on each other's tongues as they licked his erection, coupled with the slurping noises they were making as they engaged in their erotic duel, was almost enough to cause him to blow his load right then and there.

        He was able to check himself, however, when the two young women paused momentarily from licking his shaft. Both kneeling before him, they looked first at each other, smiling, before staring up at him.

        "So, lover," purred Pat, her bronze form pressed against her petite assistant. "Is this alright, or should 'Lissa and I stop?"

        Playfully, Monk reached down and grabbed a handful of bronze hair in one hand, a handful of brunette hair in the other. "You little minxes are both crazy if you think there's any way I'm letting you stop!" he retorted. "That feels so good girls, so good, ah...yes!"

        Melissa had resumed her oral ministrations, sucking Monk's cock, stuffing as much of it as she could into her little mouth. Though she tried valiantly, there was still a lot of cock overflowing her mouth...cock which the woman of bronze claimed as hers. Positioning her head below her friend's, Pat licked upward with her tongue, sliding it down to the base of his thick shaft, through the bristly hair of Monk's sack, licking his balls.

        "Oh Pat...oh Melissa," moaned Monk, wild at the sensations coursing through his body as Melissa's busy mouth bobbed up and down on him, tongue swirling around his shaft with each stroke, while beneath her, Pat sucked his balls into her mouth, one after the other, rolling her hot little tongue all around them. He could feel the semen rising in his balls, aching for release as the twin mouths coaxed him towards climax.

        Hearing Monk's little groans, proud of the effect she and Pat were having on him, Melissa redoubled her efforts. It had been a long time since she had felt a hard prick spurting gooey cum into her mouth and she intended to milk every ounce out of the monster she was blowing. She gobbled down Monk's cock as if it were an ice cream cone, sucking on it, making obscene slurping noises as she frantically bobbed her head up and down, her tongue sliding across Monk's slit at the top of each upstroke. Beneath her, Pat's busy mouth and tongue caressed his balls, sucking them, licking them, while the finger of one hand worked its way to his ass, teasing his asshole.

        Feeling Pat's finger penetrating his nether hole pushed Monk over the edge. His semen boiled in his balls, shot up along its release route. "That's it, that's it!" he cried. "Suck me...I'm...I'm...CUMMING!"

        With a loud groan his hips thrust forward spasmodically, forcing his cock deeper into Melissa's mouth. The salty spray blasted into the young woman's eager orifice as if shot from a cannon. She sputtered from the quantity of Monk's seed as she whipped her head up and down, wet tongue flailing along the captive cock as it disgorged its tribute, gulping it down with gusto. Jet after jet of his frothy sperm pulsed into Melissa's demanding mouth and was greedily swallowed by the fellacitrix. Try as she might, however, there was too much, too quickly, for Melissa to swallow it all. Some of Monk's hot jism escaped through the corners of her mouth, sliding whitely down his shaft and dripping, pearl-like, onto Pat's pink tongue extended at the base of his cock, lathering his balls as she played with his asshole.

        Monk shuddered, again and again, as his cum was drained from his balls by the two horny young ladies. The feeling was fucking incredible! The sensation of Melissa's mouth pumping around his cock, Pat's tongue lathering his balls, her finger up his ass, drew Monk's orgasm out until he thought he'd collapse, his strength drained by dual succubi.

        With a "plop!" Monk's cock finally slipped from between Melissa's lips. Smiling up at Monk, Melissa smacked her crimson lips contentedly, looking like a cat that had just lapped up a bowl of warm milk. Pat moved out from beneath him. Caressing their heads, Monk tumbled to the sheets. The two woman lay their heads on his chest while he stroked his hands through their hair, mingling the bronze and black tresses.

        "Well, did that suffice, my gallant rescuer?" teased Pat, nipping at one of his nipples.

        "Blazes, girls!" replied Monk. "That was fantastic!"

        "Well, we're glad you approved," giggled Melissa, stroking his softening shaft. "And now, why don't you just lean back for a moment and rest. You've earned it...but Pat and I are so horny now, we've got to do something or we'll burst!"

        Pat and Melissa got to their knees on each side of Monk, facing each other, then leaned forward into each other's embrace, forming an upside down "V" over the hairy chemist. Their soft lips met, kissing each other passionately. Their tongues, fresh from their triumphs with Monk's cock, engaged in an erotic duel, entwining and darting into and out of each other's soft mouths.

        But their mouths weren't the only things of theirs that were busy. Their hands, too, were active, exploring the nubile body of their feminine partner. Pat cupped Melissa's petite breasts, feeling the hardened tips burning into her palms, before rubbing the soft little mounds, bringing her fingers down and tweaking the cherry red tips. The exquisite sensations caused by her lover toying with her breasts brought soft little moans of appreciation from Melissa, who eagerly returned the favor.

        Her own hands hefted Pat's bronzed breasts. Melissa loved the feel of the supple flesh, loved caressing the uplifted orbs and teasing their coral nipples into diamond- like hardness. About the only thing she liked better than feeling Pat's tits grow erect with her arousal as she played with them was tasting them as she did it. Melissa broke off a wet kiss with her boss, and moved her pretty face lower on Pat's body, licking down her neck, across the top of the pliable globes, before sucking a swollen teat into her hot little mouth. One of Pat's hands left Melissa's tits for a moment, to hold the brunette's head and mouth exactly where it was. Pat felt like her nipple was being swallowed by a moist furnace, a molten oven with a clever little tongue that swirled all about her jutting nipple. Little gasps punctuated the bronze woman's breathing, which had begun to be just a bit ragged.

        "Oh, 'Lissa," she breathed. "You have such a clever little mouth...that feels divine! Do it some more...do it some more!"

        In response, Melissa switched breasts, swallowing another erect nipple with her eager mouth, laving it lovingly with her pink, wet tongue. Her white teeth closed lightly on the crinkled tip, forcing yet another gasp from the bronze woman's parted lips and further swelling the delicious morsel.

        After a few moments of reveling in the sensation of feeling Melissa's mouth moving back and forth between her elongated crimson points, Pat reluctantly pushing Melissa's head away, quivering as she felt her lover's lips sliding off her turgid nipple. Pat bent down, eager to pleasure her young assistant's breasts with her own mouth. Her oral efforts elicited moans of encouragement from Melissa, as well as leaving her heaving peaks glistening with Pat's saliva. For the next several minutes, the two nude beauties alternated sucking and nibbling on each other's luscious breasts, sliding their tongues along their satiny surfaces, playfully biting the engorged nipples.

        Watching the two girls play with each other above him, Monk was an avid spectator. The sight of them fondling and tongueing each others titties, hearing their soft moans of arousal, their gasps as an erect bud was pinched or sucked into an eager mouth, began to have a predictable effect on him. His cock, which had started to soften after his intense orgasm, began to twitch as the blood returned to it. It slowly grew as it rested on his stomach, almost directly beneath four perfect, glistening breasts. In but a short while, Monk was once again fully erect, his hard cock eager to sample more of the delights which awaited.

        Monk's arousal was not lost on the two girls. Looking down at him in the midst of their love play, Melissa whispered to Pat, "It seems you weren't lying when you told me about him, lover! What's your pleasure?"

        Pat considered for a moment. "I think what I'd like to do, sweet 'Lissa--if it's all right with you--is dine on your delectable little cunt, while I feel that nice hard cock slamming into me from behind. Is that OK with both of you?"

        Monk nodded his head so vigorously that both Pat and Melissa giggled. Melissa nodded her agreement as well. "You know that I always love it when you eat me, lover," she sighed. "I've been dying to feel your mouth on my pussy ever since I got here."

        "Well then," replied Pat, "What are we waiting for? If you don't start fucking me with that monster in the next two minutes," she said to Monk, "I'm going to scream!"

        "I know you, my little bronze slut!" laughed Monk as they shifted around on Pat's bed. "I think that you'll scream IF I fuck you!"

        "Yeah," replied Melissa, as she lay on her back and opened her thighs wide. "But you won't be able to hear the screams, 'cause they'll be muffled by my muff!"

        Pat placed her hands on the soft insides of Melissa's thighs, bringing her face close to her lovely assistant's dripping slit. She never tired of looking at Melissa's pretty pussy, sweet inner lips dewy with desire, honey flowing from her moist hole, topped by her trimmed black thatch. Pat inhaled deeply, drunk on the intoxicating aroma, before closing the distance and flicking out with her highly skilled tongue. It touched the young woman's cunt at the bottom of her fuckhole, then slowly lapped upwards, between the twin labial lips, tasting the honeyed juices before finishing its upward journey at Melissa's clit. Melissa gasped and jerked on the bed, involuntarily, as if receiving an electrical shock as the exquisite sensations were transmitted to her brain. Her hands reached out, caressed the bronze woman's head lovingly between her thighs, encouraging her to use her mouth and tongue to get her off.

        "That's it, lover," cooed Melissa as she felt the warm tongue slithering around her nether regions, starting the slow journey which would culminate in Melissa's cumming on that welcome tongue. "Eat me, my pretty Patty, eat my pussy!"

        As Pat tasted the young woman's wetness, pressing her mouth against the steaming cunt and sucking on her excited little clitoris, she could feel Monk moving behind her, his hands grasping her ass as he positioned himself. She held her breath in anxious anticipation as she felt the hairy chemist pulling her taut asscheeks apart, revealing her puckered anus to his gaze, framed above her pink, steaming quim. Though Monk had fucked Pat's asshole on more than one occasion, at the moment he had a different target. Monk slid his massive tool between her asscheeks a few times, teasing the bronze woman, enjoying the sight of the rounded flesh surrounding his hard shaft. The purplish head of his cock finally came to rest between her lower lips and he slowly pushed forward, sinking into her hot twat. Pat gave out a muffled squeal of joy as she felt his hard length sinking into her welcoming body.

        Monk groaned as he buried his cock into a satiny oven. Pat's pussy walls, slick with arousal, clenched his prick in a velvety grip, urging him on. He watched intently as Pat, impatient to feel her lover fully inside her, pushed back with her ass, forcing his final few inches into her, impaling herself. Monk was near delirious with excitement, not knowing whether to watch his cock slide in and out of Pat's sopping vagina, splitting her swollen lips, or to watch the erotic tableau in front of him. Melissa was moaning softly, her hands playing with her breasts, pinching her hardened nipples with her fingers, augmenting the sensations coming from her fiery cunt, where Pat's wet, active mouth seemed intent on slaking the blaze. Seeing his lover's bronzed tresses fanned out over the firm, tanned thighs of her young assistant, inhaling the aroma permeating the air given off by their twin muffs, was indescribably erotic as he pumped in and out of Pat's greedy snatch.

        Pat's lips, pressed against Melissa's sopping cunt, worshipped at her lover's altar of Venus. She alternated between sliding her long tongue up into the young woman's dripping cavern as far as she could and slathering it up the length of her honeyed slit to her clit. Thirstily, she drank up every drop of Melissa's elixir that she could get. Behind her, Monk slammed his cock in and out of her molten core. Each time Monk thrust forward, Pat's mouth was forced yet more firmly against the delicious morsel between Melissa's legs. Melissa's gasps came faster and louder, as she felt her orgasm building inside her. Her fingers caressed her saucy crinkled peaks as the bronze woman's mouth made love to her most intimate orifice. On her back, head resting on a fluffy pillow, Melissa watched, spellbound, as Pat grasped her quivering thighs, pulling her quim closer against her hungry mouth and its searching tongue while behind her, clasping Pat's hips, Monk drove himself into her pink pussy, causing the bronze woman to emit muffled groans against Melissa's muff.

        Patricia Savage was in heaven, eating the soft cunt of her one lover, while feeling the hard cock of her other lover slam into her own cunt from behind. A rhythmic "smack" noise filled the room as with each thrust forward, Monk's stomach slapped into Pat's ass, causing the golden cheeks to quiver enticingly, while lower, his balls slapped against her clit, their bristly hair scraping the young woman's sensitive nub and sending her spiraling upwards.

        Feeling her own soaked cunt being ravaged by a steely invader while her mouth feasted on Melissa's love juices suddenly proved too much for the young woman. Burying her frenzied screams of ecstasy in the moist cavern before her, Pat exploded in orgasm, her satiny walls clenching and unclenching feverishly, clamping against the welcome intruder pounding inside her. Her ass thrust back spasmodically, forcing all of Monk's throbbing cock into her deepest recesses, demanding that he fuck her hard. Hearing her cries, feeling her liquid core spasming around him, Monk nearly lifted Pat off the bed as he drove himself into her, as hard and as fast as he could. Pat wailed incoherently as the tremors wracked her nubile body, cumming over and over as he speared her on his rigid prick.

        Like a chain reaction, hearing her lover's frantic shrieks of ecstasy, watching the expressions on Monk's contorted face as he fucked her lover, pushed Melissa over the edge. As Pat came, her hands clenched tightly on Melissa's thighs, trapping the young woman against her demanding mouth.

        "Aaaaiiieeee!!" Melissa wailed as she felt Pat sucking her clitoris into her hot mouth. "I'm cumming...CUMMING!! Unnnggghhhhh!!"

        Melissa's orgasm ripped through her petite frame. Her fingers twisted her engorged nipples, hard, twisting them, pulling them up from her spasming body. Pat's lips and mouth and tongue feasted on Melissa's slick cunt, coaxing her to cum again and again on her face. Her love juices flowed out of her sopping snatch, where they were tasted and swallowed avidly by her climaxing lover. Small, perfectly shaped feet pushed against the bed, thrusting Melissa's quivering hips against Pat's mouth as her honey gushed forth, soaking Pat's face. Pat's tongue thrummed against Melissa's clitoris, the vibrations wringing yet another climax from the delirious young woman's body.

        Finally, drained, Melissa collapsed on the bed, her body glistening with a sheen of perspiration. Pat's deathgrip on Melissa's thighs loosened and they fell open. Her face still contorted with the pleasure she was receiving from Monk's dick, Pat looked up at her lover. Pat's face was dripping with Melissa's love juices, as if her spasming snatch had been a veritable Niagara Falls. Her pink tongue lolled out of her open mouth, covered with the young woman's honey, as Monk continued to thrust into her molten core.

        "Oh, God, Monk," gasped Pat, her breath coming raggedly. "Fuck me...fuck me...fuck your cunt!"

        "Who's my little slut?" grunted Monk as he willingly obeyed her directive.

        "I am...I'm your little slut!" groaned Pat as she felt his shaft plunging in and out of her. "I want you to cum...I want to feel you spurting inside my pussy!"

        The chemist was getting close. Watching Pat bring Melissa off with her mouth had been the most erotic sight he had ever witnessed. Feeling his cock being enveloped and caressed by Pat's steaming walls, Doc's aide was tingling with the sensation, his seed building up in his balls, desperate for release.

        Floating on the afterglow of her orgasms, Melissa suddenly started. She had just had a wonderful idea!

        She bolted upright. "Wait a minute!" she commanded. "Both of you stop--don't you dare cum, Monk!"

        Monk stopped in mid-thrust, his cock, slick with Pat's juices, half in, half out of her delectable snatch. Both he and Pat looked at Melissa with surprise--and disappointment- -written in their faces.

        Seeing their glum looks, Melissa laughed and clapped her hands, pert breasts jiggling enticingly. "Don't worry," she assured them. "You'll get what you want--but I've just had the most marvelous idea!"

        Swiftly, Melissa outlined to them the position she wanted them to assume. With Monk buried inside her, Pat lowered herself until she was laying stretched out on her bed, Monk laying on top of her. They then rolled 90 degrees, so that they were on their sides, with Monk still fucking Pat from behind.

        "Now, hold this leg up," Melissa ordered Monk, pointing at Pat's upper leg, as she reached out and tweaked Pat's coral nipples. Obeying, Monk lifted Pat's top leg, pushing her firm thigh and calf high up, a slender bronzed foot dangling above the rumpled sheets.

        "All right!" cried Melissa. "Fuck her Monk! Fuck my pretty Patty good!"

        Needing no further encouragement, Monk resumed driving his cock into Pat's dripping quim. The momentary break entailed by the change in position had taken the edge off, but his throbbing prick was still close to bursting.

        Melissa leaned down, enthralled. Her face mere inches away from Pat's cunt, she stared intently at Monk's hard shaft plundering that soft little pussy with which she was so familiar. His cock was slick with Pat's juices. Her swollen love lips clung to him like a glove each time he withdrew, before parting wetly to allow him ready access back into her body as he thrust forward. Pat's bronze thatch was matted, wet with her secretions that had dripped out of her leaking slit, while her engorged clit lay exposed.

        Melissa leaned forward and sucked the erect little nubbin into her hot mouth.

        "Aaaagghhh!" cried Pat, as she felt her clit disappearing into the warm, wet haven, felt a pointed tongue lapping at it like a cat lapping at milk, while from behind her Monk's jutting erection was swallowed by her horny little hole. "Oh my God, 'Lissa! That feels so good! Oh yeah, oh yeah, baby...uuunnggghhh!"

        Melissa slid her tongue off Pat's trembling clit for a moment, slurping along her slit and slathering around Monk's cock as it slid in and out of her. The young woman eagerly cleaned Pat's love juices off of the hairy chemist's proud tool, replacing the slickness caused by Pat's molten core with her own saliva.

        Monk was nearly frantic, as he felt Melissa's clever little tongue trailing along his erection, licking at it and his balls while he was thrusting into Pat's sugary pussy. With each downstroke he buried himself in Pat's sopping cunt, while on each upstroke his cock and balls were being worshipped orally! The sensation of feeling both a mouth and a cunt on his cock at the same time was incredible. His balls began to tighten, close to loosing their milky load.

        "Blazes!" Monk exclaimed. "That feels so great, Melissa! That's it...lick me...lick me!"

        His breath came quicker and quicker as he drove himself against Pat's quivering flanks. Pat's own breathing was erratic as she felt herself being impaled on his powerful tool, her clit abuzz as Melissa's tongue slid around and around, coaxing her to cum once more.

        Knowing that he was close to cumming, Pat urged him on. "Come on, lover!" she purred, thrusting her taut bottom back against him, grinding her soft asscheeks into his groin. "Cum inside me...cum inside my hot cunt! Unnggghhh!"

        Monk pushed Pat along the top of the sheets with the force of his thrusts while Melissa hung on, furiously licking his penis and Pat's pussy. Pumping wildly into her welcoming receptacle, Monk felt his hot jism explode from his balls, geysering forth into Pat's steaming grotto. Pat spiraled higher as she felt his hot, sticky cum spurting into her cunt, coating her inner walls with the pearly fluid. She clamped down with her inner muscles, squeezing Monk's cock in her heated satiny sheath, determined to milk every drop from his balls. Monk moaned in pleasure as jet after jet of his cum shot from his throbbing erection and splattered whitely against Pat's pussy walls. Each time he withdrew partially from her hungry cunt, Melissa fervently licked along his cock, slurping down the gooey mixture of his cum and Pat's love juices.

        Finally sated, Monk rolled over onto his back, his cock slipping from Pat's quim. The sweet musk of sex hung heavy in the room. The bronze woman fell back as well, her legs splayed apart, pearly drops of cum splattered across her cuntlips and dotting her bronze thatch. Placing Pat's legs across her shoulders, Melissa dove in. Her tongue lapped up all traces of Monk's sperm from Pat's thighs and mound. Pat squirmed and squealed from the sensation as her naughty assistant cleaned her most intimate regions with her tongue, swirling it around her clit. Pressing her red lips firmly against Pat's pink ones, Melissa drove her tongue into Pat's sopping snatch, frenziedly licking up the salty mixture of Monk's jism and Pat's honey. Pat arched up, partially off the bed, heels drumming wildly against the sheets, as she felt the slick tongue stabbing into her, questing, followed by Melissa's mouth sucking hard at her pussy, vacuuming out Monk's cum.

        "Oh, God, YESSSS!" she cried as she bucked uncontrollably on the bed, orgasmic contractions wracking her body. Her bronzed thighs locked around Melissa's head in a vise, demanding that the young woman continue her lovely oral ministrations. Her hips quivered like a sapling in a hurricane as she thrust her groin spasmodically at Melissa's face, wailing at the top of her lungs as Melissa ate her out. She came again and again, one hand clenching Monk's in a deathgrip as the climaxes ripped through her lithe body.

        Trembling in the aftermath of her multiple orgasms, Pat lay quivering on the bed as Melissa, cheeks glistening with fragrant juices, arose from between her thighs and kneeled over her. Staring with wide-eyed innocence into Monk's eyes, Melissa positioned her lips a few inches above Pat's and slowly opened her mouth. A stream of Monk's white cum dribbled from Melissa's lips into Pat's waiting mouth. Having sucked Pat's pussy clean of Monk's semen, Melissa had held it in her mouth to share with her lover. Tasting the salty fluid dripping onto it, Pat's tongue flicked out to catch the pearly drops and hold them for a moment, savoring them, before drinking them down. Monk lay there, staring in disbelief, as Melissa slowly fed his spunk to the bronze woman. Finished delivering her load, Melissa pressed her red lips softly against Pat's in a loving kiss.

        "Blazes!" Monk repeated for the hundredth time that day, unable to believe what he had just seen.

        Hearing him, both Melissa and Pat collapsed in a fit of girlish laughter, Melissa falling across Pat. Monk looked sheepishly at the two beauties, not sure what was so funny, but he quickly decided he didn't care as various shapely limbs were draped over him, drawing him into a threeway embrace.

        Laying on the chair across from Pat's bed, Curlers the cat had been a silent spectator to the activities taking place on Pat's bed. Although he didn't comprehend what was occurring in front of him, Pat's pussy whimpered. It didn't look like anyone was going to be paying any attention to him for a long, long time...

        THE END.

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