To Snare a Cloud

Brenda tried shielding herself as best she could. She hoped against hope that "Jones" possessed enough gentlemanly demeanor to at least offer her a robe or even a towel to conceal herself. Neither was forthcoming. She found herself shivering even though the room was warm.

A very short time later, one of the lab coats handed "Jones" the tree transmitters that until a few moments ago had resided in her clothing. "Jones" waved them under Brenda's nose.

"Care to explain what these were doing on your person?"

"I have no idea what those things are. They could have been here before I even entered this room for all I know!" replied Brenda with a bravado that surprised herself.

"Miss Brooks, still you try to play for a fool. Let us put it this way. Perhaps we need to see if there are more of these devices, perhaps within one or more bodily orifice. We MIGHT have to examine every follicle of hair in your scalp and upon your sex. Should that prove necessary, I'm inclined to simply shave all of it off and examine apart from your body. Conversely, you can end this charade, summon your master and await his arrival."

"I don't know what those things are!" stated Brenda.

"Jones" appeared irritated. "Very well, Miss brooks. If the threat of total depilation does not alarm you, perhaps there is some other recourse we can employ. You can either provide information or you can furnish entertainment. I had my men draw numbers before this evening began. Leo drew number one." he turned to the assembled gunmen and said, "Introduce yourself, Leo."

A huge hulking beast rose to his feet. Despite her promise to herself to not face any of the armed thugs Brenda's glance followed that of her abductor. Leo was both the homeliest and the largest man, Brenda had ever encountered. "Jones" turned once more to face Brenda.

"Do you now what a man like Leo would really like to happen to him to make his night? A bit of oral pleasure provided by a nubile and pneumatic young woman. You seem to be the only person in this room meeting those requirements. In fact, every man has drawn a number and would very much like the same reward. OR, you could inform us as to the operation of these devices."

"You are a monster!"

"On the contrary, Miss Brooks, The Nimbus is the monster, a man beyond the law, the nemesis of men such as myself, but, I suspect, not a man beyond the reach of love. I assume these things operate via voice or code. You are to take one and issue my instructions to your lover. If he does not hasten to this spot, my men will have their way with you. Your night STARTS with blow jobs. After every man has been provided one of those. We draw numbers again and the winner can ask for ANYTHING he wants. And so shall the runner-up. And so shall the third place finisher ... you get the idea. Lead The Nimbus here and there is a VERY good chance of your going home unmolested. Defy me further and ..."

This was Brenda's most profound fear. The thought of servicing even one of those disgusting louts filled Brenda with revulsion and horror. She was convinced that "Jones" was speaking nothing but lies about her fate if she cooperated. Yet, Brenda was secure in Nimbus's abilities. Even if she did lead him into a trap, the man she loved would realize that her call, closely monitored as it no doubt would be, was out of the ordinary for her. Even in anger, Lamar would never blindly enter a villain's snare, as least, Brenda hoped that was the case, especially if he brought other members of the team ...

"You win, you jackass!" hissed Brenda. "Depress the central button as though it were a telegraph key. Spell out the "letter "N" in Morse three times in rapid succession. It can transmit voice as well as Morse."

"Now you are being reasonable, Miss Brooks. You could have saved yourself so much humiliation."

"Shut up, you disgusting pervert!"

"Temper, Miss Brooks. The threat of spanking and soap is STILL on the table. In any event. Once you have made contact with our nemesis, read this statement and then hand the device over to me."

"Jones" held a gun on Brenda while she read the villain's script. It was far more convincing than Brenda would have guessed, but as taught by her master, Brenda made use of subtle voice clues and stressed particular words ever so slightly to emphasize to The Nimbus that she was in terrible trouble. The device fell silent and "Jones" stated, "While we await the imminent arrival of The Nimbus and his inevitable destruction, there is time to attend to several small matters."

He loomed in front of Brenda, a malevolent sneer on his face. "Miss Brooks, for wasting my time with your prolonged charade and for your personal insults, I am going to punish you. I think fifty firm swats on your buttocks by my one of my henchmen, followed by having your mouth washed out with soap, should sufficiently chasten you. When that concluded your mood will be perfect for witnessing the execution of The Nimbus!"

Brenda's eyes became large saucers and her face a mask of pleading, "You wouldn't, you couldn't!"

"I can and I will." replied "Jones." before raising his voice and stating, "Leo, you are needed!"

Brenda tried to slink away but several of the gunmen encircled her. A man in a lab coat provided a folding chair while Leo took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Brenda had been taught to endure torture, not point scoring exercises in humiliation. Brenda emitted a loud sudden gasp as Leo's strong arms encircled her waist. She fought like a wildcat, but it was pointless before any time at all had passed, Brenda was on her stomach, over the giant thug's knee. One of his bear-like mitts encircled Brenda's wrists like a vise, the other possessively stroked her exquisite buttocks. When Brenda was sufficiently humiliated, "Jones" began counting off numbers in a strong monotone. From the moment the word "One" exited Jones's lips, Brenda was in excruciating pain.

Brenda's rear end felt as though it were the surface of the sun. The pace that "Jones" set meant that there was no interval of relief between each stinging blow. The Nimbus had used thumbscrews and nipple clamps on her to give Brenda an idea of what she would need to endure to not crack under torture but the vulnerability and humiliation of this position, made those punishments positively appealing. What Brenda hated most was the fact that all of these scoundrels were seeing her in tears. Brenda, even before she began working with Lamar, had always had a firm grasp on her emotions. One of the reasons The Nimbus had recruited her in the first place was because Brenda could always be counted on to keep her head in a crisis. Even now, in this profound humiliation, Brenda prayed that The Nimbus would arrive after this corporal ordeal ended. It would kill him to see her like this.

"Fifty!"

The last blow struck with a force greater than any previous, then there was the profound sting of what, for lack of a better term, could only be termed relief. Brenda's entire posterior felt as though it was one ball of flame, shrinking in force ever so slightly with each passing second. Brenda was suddenly acutely aware once more of her vulnerable position. Leo's impressive erection poked at Brenda's tummy through his trousers. Brenda began to struggle, confused as to why she was not being released when "Jones" appeared with a bar of soap in his hand. Forcing Brenda's lips and teeth apart, he compelled them to close again around the bar of Lux soap. The foul taste assailed her mouth and tongue and forced its way into her nostrils. For a fleeting moment, Brenda believed she might suffocate, bit, just as suddenly, the bar was removed and Brenda could breathe again. Leo allowed her to slide off his lap and Brenda ended up an irate knot on the floor.

To her surprise, "Jones" helped her to her feet. "That punishment was entirely YOU'RE OWN doing, Miss Brooks. Now you still have one more use for me."

After Brenda wiped her eyes, she noted that several of the lab technicians were affixing a clear clam shell-like object to a pillar just below the skylight. Peering more intently, Brenda realized that the clam shell contained straps and belts inside it. "Jones" tugged Brenda towards it.

"This material," "Jones" stated when they were next to the object, "of my own design, is completely bullet proof. When The Nimbus peers in from above and sees his precious love strapped spread-eagle to this post, he will become so incensed he will forget all things except the goal of liberating her. Once he does, he will be greeted by a hail of bullets. The look on your face, Miss Brooks, when your lover is perforated with lead will be most satisfying. You will carry that image to your grave. In the morning, the police will find the bullet riddled body of The Nimbus and you, in all your naked glory, in tears!"

Brenda realized that this plan of "Jones" was not a bad one, in fact, she realized , it might actually succeed. Lamar DETESTED seeing Brenda imperiled. Perhaps the two were too close to each other emotionally to be completely effective dispassionate crime fighters. They looked after each other not with the slight emotional detachment of partners but with the united mind of lovers. Once more, Brenda hoped that Lamar gathered the team before he rushed to her rescue. Without his loyal cadre to keep him on his toes, The Nimbus might forget all of his training to protect her. Concern for her lover was paramount in Brenda's mind as she was strapped and buckled in place. The transparent shell closed. The lab-coated technicians made their exit from the room, the thugs rechecked their weapons, and "Jones" smiled maniacally.

For several very long moments, Brenda struggled to ignore the open leers of the loutish gunmen of splayed out form, and gazed heavenward at the open skylight. She both very much wanted to see The Nimbus rappelling through the opening on a rope to rescue her, yet she also feared the same thing. Brenda deduced that if Lamar was directly overhead all he would see was a naked, restrained form. From the roof, the transparent clamshell would be invisible. Between the stares of the thugs, her concern for Lamar and the tension of forced impotent waiting, time passed very slowly.

An unknown period of time later, Brenda became aware of an almost imperceptible mist in the room. This was followed almost immediately by a blinding fog of greenish smoke. Brenda became aware of the sounds of choking and heard the sounds of scattered gunshots. The green fog seeped into Brenda's clam shell and assailed her lungs, the green-tinged world spun for a moment and then vanished into utter darkness.

The next thing Brenda remembered was coming to consciousness on the roof, over the shoulder of Jericho Dunn, The Nimbus's huge negro aide, she was still naked and the Manhattan daybreak was authentically chilly. Jericho was a vital member of the Nimbus's cadre and Brenda knew him well, never did she imagine, however, that one day she would be in her current state of undress in his muscular arms. And then, there was Lamar! Even beneath the concealing mask of The Nimbus, his face bore equal parts concern and adoration as he met Brenda's smile with one of his own. He removed the concealing cape he always wore, the garment that caused so much fear in the New York, underworld and draped over Brenda's shoulders. No garment, in all her life, had ever felt warmer.

CODA

The subsequent extended and extraordinary vacation with Lamar was not what Brenda initially expected. Somewhat cryptically Lamar had informed her that, "This trip is to treat your shyness so that potential nudity is never again a problem for you." As equally cryptically, he had told Brenda to pack very lightly. Only when their destination was revealed to be a rather large and very private nudist colony, did the mysteries dissipate.

To his credit, Lamar had progressed slowly, allowing Brenda to peel off her own clothing at the pace she felt most comfortable. By the second week, being naked out of doors and in front of dozens of total strangers was almost second nature for Brenda. She got so into the spirit of things that she volunteered to be a last minute replacement maid of honor for a couple she and Lamar had grown close to during their stay. Walking down the isle before a cross section of nudist society was beyond liberating. By the end of their mutual sojourn in the sun, Brenda realized that no foul thug could ever again make her skin crawl when his eyes mentally undressed her. Whatever power those men had had over her was banished forever.

Yet nothing compared to the quiet moments with Lamar, in their simple room at the retreat. She recalled it all, lying Naked in Lamar's arms, his powerful body unveiled, his muscles rippling and his musky scent filling the air. His resonate, familiar voice as he stated,

"Jones, whose real name, ironically, was Smith was not entirely stupid, Brenda." stated Lamar in one of those quiet clinches. "If I were a bad guy and I'd captured you, the first thing I'd do is make you strip as well!"

Brenda laughed and replied, "YOU don't have to compel me!"

"I know," returned Lamar as he emitted The Nimbus's famous laugh and continued, "For which I am eternally grateful!" After a pause, his face was pure mischief as he deadpanned, "Want to see if we can sneak another quickie in before they serve lunch?"

"You KNOW we can, Lamar." answered Brenda. "The Nimbus knows EVERYTHING!" Then, she buried him in kisses.