The Adventures of Barb Wire Episode - 1 The Bounty Hunter - Chapter 1 Collared

Discussion in 'Adventures of Barb Wire' started by L'Espion, Nov 28, 2018.

  1. L'Espion Active Member Author

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    The Adventures of Barb Wire

    Episode 1 The Bounty Hunter

    Story by L’Espion

    [email protected]

    Chapter 1 Collared

    Leonard “Big Fish” Salmon flicked idly though the channels. He didn’t ordinarily watch much television, but there really wasn’t much else to do in the rather shabby hotel room. At least not at the moment. Just a few weeks ago he would never have even remotely considered staying in a dump like the Starbright Hotel; but his position in the world had changed drastically, and beggars couldn’t be choosers. However, with any luck it wouldn’t last long. He’d sent word to one of his trusted henchmen to meet him in the morning with a car, a new ID and enough cash to get him safely out of the country. He’d forfeit the half million dollars bail he’d posted, but he’d borrowed most of that from a bail bond agency. Bad luck for the moron who’d okayed the bond; good luck for him.

    He shifted position on the bed. He was wearing only a light bathrobe in expectation of one of the local girls the desk clerk had ordered for him. It had cost him a grand, but he’d been promised the best in the way of working girls that Steel Harbor had to offer. He was somewhat dubious about that. The rundown industrial town was hardly up to the standards he was used to, but for five hundred dollars he should be able to get a bit more than the usual cheap whore.

    The chiming of the bedside phone startled him out of his reverie. He picked it up on the second ring. “Yeah?” he grunted.

    “Girl’s on the way up, Mr. Jones,” the desk clerk said.

    “Thanks, I’ll be expecting her.” He checked under his pillow for the Glock just in case. It was an instinctive action since he was the one who had put it there and he really wasn’t expecting any trouble. But it never hurt to be careful. He settled back, arranging the cheap bathrobe so that it covered his crotch and waited expectantly.

    “Come on in, babe,” he said in response to a light tap at the door. He’d left it slightly ajar in anticipation of this moment.

    The door swung open and Salmon gasped in amazement. The woman who closed the door behind her was like nothing he had ever imagined. Describing her as a blonde bombshell would have been the world’s biggest understatement. She was positively stunning, and for a few seconds she simply stared at her.

    She was tall; standing at least five-foot-ten and was built like the proverbial brick outhouse. Body-hugging black leather covered her from her shoulders to her knees where the tight leather pants met a pair of knee-high black boots. The outfit was cut in a deep V and was laced up the front, revealing the sweet curves of a pair of magnificent breasts. Around her neck she wore a studded leather choker. The entire effect was of a woman so stunningly beautiful she completely took his breath away. She also appeared to be slightly pissed off.

    “Don’t,” she growled, “ever call me babe.”

    “What the hell,” he gasped. “I wasn’t expecting anything like you.”

    “That’s fine,” the girl answered, “because you’re not going to like what you get.” She stepped further into the room, her movement as smooth and deadly as a water moccasin.

    “What’re you talking about?” Salmon asked. His semi-aroused state was cooling quickly under the woman’s steely-eyed gaze. Those incredible blue eyes seemed to drill right into him. He moved his hand toward his gun.

    “I’m talking about the fifty-thousand dollar payout for hauling your ass back to Columbus for the Grand Jury,” she answered. “And if your hand is reaching for what I think it’s reaching for you better think again.”

    “Fuck you,” Salmon bellowed. “No dyed-blonde bimbo is going to take me in.” He pulled out the Glock and swung it toward the woman.

    “Ahh!” The gun spun through the air in response to the roundhouse kick the woman had delivered. She’d moved so fast that he hadn’t even had time to bring the muzzle of the Glock up before it was knocked out of his hands.

    “It’s not dyed, and I am going to take you in,” the woman said. She spun a set of handcuffs as she spoke and moved determinedly toward him.

    Salmon could hardly believe what was happening. His hand had gone completely numb and he suspected it might be broken, but he was still more than twice the weight of his female adversary. He leaped off the bed, ignoring that fact that his bathrobe fell open and swung at her with his left hand.

    She hardly seemed to move, but his blow came nowhere near her head and he was so overbalanced he almost fell over.

    “Now that’s something no one wanted to see,” she said drily, her gaze taking in his exposed genitals. “Time to do something about it.”

    Her first blow was a straight kick that knocked the wind out of him. Her second was a hard right that knocked him half over the bed. Before he could move his arms were pulled behind him and his wrists locked together. “Now that’s enough of that nonsense,” she said. She picked up his trousers and held them out for him to step into. “Can’t take you out dressed like that,” she commented. “Put these on and try to be a good boy.”

    Salmon meekly complied. As she pulled a shirt over his head he stammered out a question. “Wh…who are you?”

    “My name doesn’t really matter,” she answered, “but it’s Barbara Kopetski, licensed bounty hunter.”

    “You… you’re Barb Wire,” Salmon gasped.

    “Some people call me that,” she answered. “Now let’s go.” Placing her hand on his shoulder she guided him toward the door.

    “You bitch,” Salmon ranted. “ I’ll see that I get you for this if it’s the last thing I do.”
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