June 24th, 10:41 PM
Zilch didn't believe in God. Scratch that: he hadn't believed in God, until today.
It was highly unlikely that he would determine the Blue Lynx's secret identity, but he had. It was even less likely that the Blue Lynx would come to his house, throttle him, and then return to throttle him so more, but she did. But the probability that, upon returning, the Blue Lynx would encounter five guys he had assembled from an internet message board and somehow lose the fight? That he would get a front-row seat to a superheroine being manhandled and chloroformed and rendered unconscious?
He knew all that was simply impossible. And yet, it had happened. And now the Blue Lynx and her partner were laid out-- defeated, because of his ingenuity--- in his own house.
"Good thinking with the knife, man," one of his masked associates said. He didn't know exactly who it was, but he guessed it was HeroineHunter. HeroineHunter seemed like a friendly guy.
"Thanks," he muttered. "I didn't know if she'd take the bait."
"The Blue Lynx is always looking out for her little friend," another man said, tapping the Black Bobcat's thigh with his toe. "That's her weakness."
Who was he? The guy who just went by "Sam"?
"That, and the fact that she's so fucking cocky," a different man towering over the Blue Lynx's body grunted-- the profanity made Zilch think of "Venom." "Swear to fucking God. Who knew the bitch was so fucking irritating?"
"She put one of her little things in my ASS!" the largest man yelped. He was still holding onto his back. He was probably... Tightslover? Which meant the other fella-- the guy who was still on the floor, writhing in pain, was Badman.
HeroineHunter, Sam, Venom, Tightslover, Badman, and him, Zilch. Just six guys on a message board-- six guys who happened to live within an hour of Zilch's house. Six guys who were willing to come here and put their bodies on the line to capture the Blue Lynx. Six guys who had, improbably, succeeded.
Zilch was in awe of them.
"She's fucking ruthless," Venom sneered. "Fucking nearly cracked my ribs. And her fucking partner almost broke my jaw. Who knew a fucking girl could hit so hard?"
"Dude," HeroineHunter said, "she's a superheroine. Remember?"
"Oh, I fucking remember. Aren't supers supposed to have, like, a fucking code?"
Zilch smiled in silence as he calmly walked to where the Blue Lynx lay. He was excited as the others, of course, but he didn't want anything to distract him from this moment, right now. He wanted to savor every tiny detail of the superheroine's unconscious figure. How her legs were still bent, but slightly to the side; how her arms splayed out on the floor; how sweaty black ropes of hair blew out from her face and stuck to the ground. How her face looked: her eyes closed, with her mask peeling ever so slightly away from the skin of her temple; her jaw hanging to one side, opening her pink lipsticked lips. How her magnificent breasts swung underneath her blue spandex; how sweat blotted the areas near her armpits; how her utility belt had inched up her waist, with one side nearly resting against her ribcage. He noticed it all: the small floret of light pink lace poking out from where her bodysuit met her upper leg; the contours of her bra winding around her back, and the black strap pushed up an inch from her collarbone; the small bruises on her thighs; the way her ass slightly ballooned at the place where her buttocks met the floor.
"Hey," a voice said. "Hey."
Zilch looked up at HeroineHunter standing on the other side of the Blue Lynx.
"You're in a trance, bud."
"Yeah," Zilch said, shaking his head. "I know."
"So what are we gonna do now?"
Zilch looked around at the five men-- at some point Badman had gotten to his feet-- and remembered that he was the leader of this thing: they were waiting on him to decide what to do next. It was simply unreal, all of this.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, regaining his composure. "I think it's time you all learned the secret identity of the Blue Lynx, don't you think?"
The men nodded and chattered excitedly.
"But let's do it right. Tightslover, help me get her downstairs, in my bedroom. And which one of you said you were a cop?"
Sam raised his hand.
"You got those handcuffs, right?"
"Oh yeah," Sam said, jingling the pocket of his cargo shorts.
"Alright, you guys come with me. The rest of you can tie up the Black Bobcat. The rope is over there. Maybe strapping her to the air hockey table is a good idea?"
"It's an excellent idea," Venom crowed. "I'll do that with great pleasure."
"Cool," Zilch said. "We'll go get the Blue Lynx ready, and then we'll draw to see who goes first."
"First?" Badman said. "First to do what?"
Zilch grinned. "First to take off the Blue Lynx's mask, obviously!"
More laughs and high-fives ensued. Satisfied with his leadership, Zilch gestured at Tightslover and Sam, and then at the Blue Lynx. The big man reached underneath the superheroine's back, looped his arms underneath her armpits, and lifted her off the ground. Sam grabbed her by the ankles, and then moved in closer, eventually holding her by the crook of her legs. The Blue Lynx now firmly in the arms of the two men, Zilch proceeded down the stairs. He clambered down as quickly as he could and then turned around to watch the pair transfer their unconscious cargo. Once they had reach the first floor, Zilch directed them down the hallway to his bedroom, a small square with one window, a dresser, and a twin-sized bed.
"Alright, throw her on there," he ordered. The men tossed the Blue Lynx onto the mattress, which bounced faintly on impact.
"Now, let's make sure she can't escape. Take off her belt and boots and gloves."
Zilch watched with an ever-increasing... fascination as Sam unlaced the Blue Lynx's white boots, tugged them little-by-little, and eventually pulled them off her delicate feet, which were now cased only in sweaty white socks.
"Socks, too?" Sam asked.
"Sure," Zilch said. "Why not?"
As Sam rolled the white fabric down the Blue Lynx's ankles, Tightslover wrestled with her wrists, yanking her gloves off one finger at a time. Once her hands were bare, he stepped over to the superheroine's waist and, with observable glee, shimmied his hands behind her butt, found the belt clasp, and unclipped it. He then snatched the strip of weapons from her midsection and handed it to Zilch.
"Thank you," Zilch said. Sam and Tightslover tossed the boots, socks, and gloves into the corner of the room while Zilch fingered the flaps of the utility belt.
"Now cuff her," he said, pulling a small pellet out of one of the belt's many pockets.
Sam removed two pairs of handcuffs from his shorts and passed them to Tightslover. The cop clicked his two sets first around each of the Blue Lynx's bare wrists, and then around the posts of Zilch's bed. After observing Sam's technique, Tightslover moved to the superheroine's ankles and fastened his cuffs tightly. He then attached the other half of the cuffs to the lower bedposts, stood back, and checked his work.
"She only looks half as super now," Tightslover chuckled.
"I know," Zilch said, his eyes focused totally on the Blue Lynx's unconscious expression. "Just wait till you see her without her mask."
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