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Chapter 7 by bigdamnvillain bigdamnvillain

Wanna get away?

Pile everyone into the ambulance and go

This place is way too popular; time to go someplace more private.

“Dude, chill. I’m not going to kill you. I need you to drive for me!”

The paramedic looks up at you, tears streaming down his face and piss soaking into his crotch. “Drive! Yes, I can do that!”

“And we can add grand theft ambulance to the **** and **** charges.” You turn to face Wonder Woman on the ground. It seems kicking her in the head didn’t do more than knock her over. “You are headed down a dark path young man. But it’s not too late to turn off that path.” Her stare is intense, her words half threatening and half reassuring. She’s probably used to that stare intimidating people. But it's probably more effective when her boobs aren't hanging out of her top.

She opens her mouth to go on, but you reach up with the gun to the cop dangling over your other shoulder and goose her in the ass with the barrel. The sleeping officer makes a starting-to-come-around noise, but Wonder Woman hesitates at the implied threat. “I could use a little quiet time. One more word out of you and I put something up this brave young officer’s ass that doesn’t pull out.” The heroine’s expression gets even darker, but she shuts up.

You gesture at the paramedic to get up, and when he does you lift the moaning policewoman off your shoulder and hand her to him. “You carry this one, I need to grab something. Try anything and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The shaken medic settles the handcuffed officer over his shoulder, legs in front, hand on her ass to hold her in place. “Brother, you took down a cop and a superhero. I ain’t doing nothing to piss you off.” There’s a retching sound as Cop Girl pukes down his back.

Damn, you’re starting to feel sorry for this poor schmuck!

You motion for him to hang on a moment while you search the floor. You find and pocket the shell casing from the shot Ladycop got off. You pick up her hat from where it had fallen and set it on the medic’s head. No other evidence on the ground except for one slightly-disheveled superheroine. You walk over to where she lays and grab a handful of lustrous black shampoo-commercial hair.

“We’re going. You’re coming with. I’m not going to threaten you, just remind you that young Officer Hotness’ safety and comfort depend directly on your level of cooperation. You get me?” Her eyes narrow and her jaw is set but she nods in agreement, apparently taking your Not One More Word admonishment seriously.

Shoving the cop’s gun in your pocket, you untie the lasso around her ankles and retie them leaving 12” of length between them. You pull her roughly to her feet, holding onto the golden cord like a leash, and draw the gun back from your pocket. You push the gun into the small of her back and say “Walk.”

She walks, somehow managing to look graceful and dignified despite the short hobble rope and partial nudity.

Continued

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