The Secret of the Pink Ray Page 4

  For several minutes they rolled around the floor, tightly locked together, as they kissed and sucked and nibbled on each other’s private parts. They grew increasingly excited and passionate as time went on, grunting and squealing with a complete lack of inhibition. It was clear that neither of them was into slow, gentle sex.

  After a while Suki abruptly detached herself, turned round and swung her legs between Emma’s, scissors-style. They were now lying in opposite directions, pussy to pussy.

  Emma opened her eyes—which had been blissfully closed—just long enough to observe the new arrangement. “Best idea yet, blade-lady.”

  They pressed their crotch-gaps hard against each other and ground their stiffly moist clits together. Clamping each other with their thighs, they squirmed and pumped away, shrieking and groaning with pleasure as they did so. Finally they reached an ear-splitting and more or less simultaneous orgasm, as their two bodies exploded with wave after wave of rapturous pleasure.

  They lay there for several minutes, sweating and panting with exhaustion, before either of them had the energy to speak. Finally it was Suki who broke the silence. “So you think Seligman was one of these German spies you’re after?”

  Emma nodded thoughtfully. “It looks like it. Someone framed me yesterday, for a crime I had nothing to do with. I think it must have been Seligman—although I haven’t quite worked out how he did it yet. What was his specialism? That might give me a hint.”

  Suki pointed to an array of exotic-looking objects in a display case. “He was an expert in Tibetan mystical practices. He was part of a big expedition to Tibet last year. It was led by the Nazi military—the SS.”

  “The SS?” Emma looked up suddenly. “Why should they be interested in Tibetan mysticism? It doesn’t sound very practical.”

  “On the contrary—it’s extremely practical, if you know how to use it properly. Have you heard about the research that Professor Rhine is carrying out at Duke University on paranormal powers? Well, the Tibetans are way ahead of that. They can read minds, see through closed doors, walk through walls—all those…”

  What was that you just said?” Emma was staring at her. “Do you mean to tell me Seligman could walk through walls?”

  “Among other things, yes.” Suki thought for a moment. “I think he could read documents inside a locked safe, too—just with his mind. I overheard him talking to someone on the phone about that. He said something about planting a copy of it on some actress…”

  “That was me,” Emma interrupted. “He must have walked right through the wall from his hotel room into mine. Why, though? He must have been working for someone. Do you know who it was that he was he talking to on the phone?”

  “I found this.” Suki showed her the card from the Temple of Purity. “It was right next to the phone.”

  Emma examined the card. There was an address—on Vestry Street—and a name that she recognized. She was so surprised that she read it out loud. “Olga Nussbaum!”

  “You know her?”

  “Not personally, I’m pleased to say. Olga Nussbaum just happens to be the most senior female officer in the SS. She must be the evil mastermind behind all this.”

  Suki jumped to her feet. “Then what are we waiting for? Next stop—the Temple of Purity.”

  Chapter 8: The Evil Mastermind

  All the couples had left except one—a large, heavily muscled man and a small but equally heavily muscled woman. They stood with their legs apart and their arms folded, eying Tiffany and Kimmy with sadistically evil expressions on their faces.

  Like all the other couples, these two were stark naked. The tall military woman appeared to be the only one allowed to wear clothes inside the Temple of Purity. She paced back and forth in front of the two captives in her high-heeled jackboots.

  “It was stupid of you to intrude on our rituals here,” she said. “We will not tolerate lesbians—not here in the Temple of Purity, nor indeed anywhere on Earth after the great take-over. The master race is a race of heterosexuals.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Tiffany assured her. “Still, it will be a long time before you take over the world if all you do is sit around having sex.”

  The woman threw back her head and laughed. “You are so far from the truth it is comical. Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?”

  “A mad woman with a German accent and a militaristic taste in clothing?” Kimmy suggested.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Obergruppenführer Olga Nussbaum of the SS. It is my honor to lead the fatherland’s assault on the Anglo-Saxon nations—an assault that has been progressing smoothly for several days now, even though the victims remain blissfully unaware of its existence.”

  Kimmy turned to Tiffany and addressed her in a stage whisper. “I was right—the woman’s mad.”

  “Silence, you British sow! Since you are both going to die soon—most horribly, I might add—there is no reason why I should refrain from explaining my devious plan to you.”

  “Go right ahead,” Tiffany encouraged.

  “We’re all ears,” Kimmy added.

  “This object…” Olga indicated the huge aluminum phallus. “You probably thought it was just another object of worship in our temple.”

  “Oh, we did,” they assured her, speaking in unison.

  “Fools!” Olga gave a sneering laugh. “No, it is far more important than that. What you see here is…a death ray!”

  Tiffany and Kimmy did their best to feign astonishment.

  Olga continued her narration. “The device has been used twice so far, with great success on both occasions. Our first test took place last week near the British base on Bermuda, against an aircraft of the United States Navy. The Americans, of course, believed the plane had been downed by the British.”

  “…And the second test?” Tiffany prompted.

  “The second test occurred yesterday. You’re aware of the incident, I’m sure. The target was a British flying boat, and the results were quite spectacular, if I say so myself.”

  “You’re crazy!” Kimmy blurted out. “What are you trying to do—start a war between Britain and America?”

  Olga gave an evil grin. “Yes, that is exactly what I am trying to do. It is such a masterful idea! The fatherland’s two great Anglo-Saxon enemies will fight each other to the death. The whole thing has been surprisingly simple. All I needed to do was play on paranoid suspicions that were already simmering below the surface. In my most recent triumph, I framed a British agent who…”

  Tiffany interrupted her. “And the death of that American diplomat in London—the one that was supposedly knocked down by a cab? I guess that was your doing, too.”

  Olga erupted in mocking laughter. “Much as I would like to take credit, I had nothing to do with that particular incident. The diplomat was a victim of careless driving, that is all. Even so, it was a happy accident for me. The paranoid U.S. media interpreted it as a deliberate assassination, playing right into my hands.”

  As interesting as all this background information was, Tiffany was beginning to wish Olga would get to the point. Then they could overpower their captors—two against three was pretty good odds, when the Bronze Goddess was one of the two—and try out the neutralizer ray.

  “So you’re planning to use the death ray again?” That came from Kimmy, who was obviously getting impatient too.

  “Yes indeed,” Olga gloated. “The next move will be my master stroke. At dawn today, the ocean liner Aquilonia—the pride of the British merchant fleet—is due to dock here in New York. On its way in it will pass close to a U.S. Navy destroyer that has been moored off Ellis Island as a security measure—in light of recent events, you understand. As the Aquilonia sails past, the destroyer will attack it with a torpedo.”

  “But that would be an act of war!”

  “I certainly hope the British government will see it that way,” Olga agreed. “The idea is for the torpedo attack to precipitate the transatlantic war I have been working tow
ard. In reality, of course, there will be no torpedo attack—just my death ray.”

  “The ship is due in at dawn, did you say?” Tiffany made a play of looking at a non-existent wristwatch. “Must be almost that now.”

  “You are quite right,” Olga said. “I have dawdled too long already. I will leave you in the care of my two assistants here. They’re not very bright, but they have an admirable way of producing the maximum amount of pain while they slowly torture their victims to death.”

  As Olga turned away to open the roller door, the musclebound couple stepped toward Tiffany and Kimmy. As soon as the man got within range, Tiffany gave his jaw the full force of her fist. He staggered back with a stunned expression on his face.

  There was the sudden crack of a gunshot and his female partner’s head exploded, hit by a high velocity bullet. The man looked up in horror to see that two newcomers had arrived on the scene. There was a glamorous-looking woman dressed only in stockings, garter belt and bra, holding a smoking gun in her hand. Beside her was a petite Japanese girl—stark naked and holding a sword in her upraised hand.

  That was the last thing the man saw. The sword came down and split his head in two.

  Kimmy looked like she was about to be sick. “Did you have to kill them? We’re pacifists.”

  “They were enemy combatants.” Emma put the gun back in her thigh holster. “Anyway, I’m a British secret agent with a license to kill. It’s my job.”

  Suki sheathed her sword. “I don’t have a license but I kill bad guys anyway. I’m a merciless vigilante who doesn’t believe in wasting taxpayer money on rehabilitating criminals—unlike some people.” She gave Tiffany a hard look.

  Tiffany returned her gaze. “Lady Blade, I presume?”

  “Are there any other naked sword-wielding Japanese lesbians in New York? And you’re the Bronze Goddess, of course. Who’s that in the corner throwing her guts up all over the floor?”

  Tiffany glanced in Kimmy’s direction. “That’s my new teenage sidekick…”

  “Twenty-one-year-old sidekick,” Kimmy corrected, in between retches.

  “…my twenty-one-year-old sidekick Kimmerleigh Fox, alias the Sapphic Super-Scientist. Which reminds me—she made a clever little gadget that we need to put into action right now.”

  She turned to the river door, which was now wide open. Olga had wheeled the huge metal phallus onto the platform outside and was straddling it, her hands on the controls.

  Kimmy, still looking very green, rushed up to Tiffany and held out her hand. “Quick, it’s now or never. Give me the neutralizer ray.”

  Tiffany reached down and pulled the shiny eight-inch phallus out of her vagina. As she handed it to Kimmy, she became aware that Emma and Suki were staring in open-mouthed amazement. “This is Kimmy’s invention,” she explained. “It’s a counter-ray that neutralizes the effect of the death ray. It’s not dangerous in itself, but it should block the effect of Olga’s ray.”

  “Sounds like the perfect weapon for a pacifist,” Suki observed.

  They watched as Kimmy aimed the counter-ray and twisted the knob. A blinding flash of turquoise light shot out in the direction of Olga’s contraption. At the same instant there was a pink flash from the latter and the two beams—turquoise and pink—mingled for a second or two.

  Then there was a massive explosion that knocked the four of them off their feet. The death ray, together with Olga who was straddling it, was suddenly engulfed by a thick cloud of black smoke. It slowly cleared to reveal a small pile of ash.

  Staggering to their feet, they hurried to inspect the meager remains on the platform outside.

  Suki kicked at the pile of ash with her dainty bare foot. “Just like I said—the perfect pacifist weapon. Awesome.”

  Kimmy looked sheepish. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. I must have used the wrong power setting.”

  Chapter 9: Epilogue

  A few hours later four naked lesbians were relaxing—in their different ways—in Tiffany’s luxury apartment. Tiffany and Kimmy were quietly snuggled up on the couch, watching Suki and Emma’s noisy activities on the weight-training bench. Whatever they were doing, it wasn’t weight-training.

  Emma was lying on her back on the bench, her fleshy white thighs spread wide. Suki was leaning over her, a huge black rubber phallus strapped around her hips. It must have been a good twelve inches long from root to tip, with thick ridges running along the shaft and a menacingly bulbous head. She was plunging it in and out of Emma’s vagina in a pretty good facsimile of heterosexual intercourse.

  “Ohh, God—that’s it! Fuck me hard and deep, you vicious little Japanese bitch!” Emma was jerking and squirming in sexual ecstasy. Her large soft breasts were slapping back and forth on her chest.

  Suki thrust her hips faster and more brutally than ever. “Take that, you stupid blonde British tramp! And that, and that, and that!” Her own breasts, small and firm, hardly jiggled at all, the nipples strainingly erect.

  “I think they’re in love,” Kimmy observed after a few minutes.

  “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” Suki chanted with each vicious thrust of the artificial phallus.

  “See what I mean?” Kimmy said.

  “Argghh! Christ!” Emma suddenly arched her back in orgasm, then fell back in a quivering heap.

  In the relative silence that followed, they heard the thud of a newspaper as it was pushed through the mail slot and fell onto the doormat.

  “Go fetch, girl,” Tiffany urged. “Newspapers are your specialty.”

  “Not any more they aren’t,” Kimmy said flatly. “I phoned in my resignation an hour ago. No more selling newspapers for me. I’ve found my true vocation as a lesbian crimefighter.”

  With a sigh, Tiffany got to her feet. “Guess I’ll have to get it myself then. Don’t go away.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Where else could I find entertainment as good as this?” Kimmy gestured toward Emma and Suki, who had resumed their lovemaking after the brief respite. If anything, round two was even rougher and noisier than round one had been.

  Tiffany came back with the paper. She flopped down onto the couch and cuddled up to Kimmy as they scanned the headlines together.

  “Lesbian super-team saves New York from Nazi menace. War with Britain averted,” Kimmy read. “I do believe they’re talking about you and me.”

  There was a shriek from Emma as Suki plunged the monster phallus deep between her plump white buttocks. She had flipped over and was now being fucked ass-wise. If her screams and curses were an indicator of her pleasure level—which they seemed to be—she was enjoying herself more than ever.

  “The phrase ‘lesbian super-team’ probably encompasses those two as well,” Tiffany said thoughtfully. “You know how undiscriminating the press can be.”

  “Let’s see what else it says,” Kimmy suggested. “In the small print.”

  They read together for a few minutes, then Kimmy suddenly jabbed her finger at one of the paragraphs. “Listen to this! The Bronze Goddess, New York’s best-loved lesbian crime fighter, has acquired a brand new sidekick in the person of Sapphic Super-Scientist Kimmerleigh Fox. Like famous movie actress Emma Storm, another key figure in yesterday’s drama, Ms. Fox hails from America’s number one ally, Great Britain.”

  “That reminds me,” Tiffany said. “Didn’t you once tell me you’re always masturbating over Emma Storm? If I remember correctly your exact words were…”

  She was interrupted by a sudden ear-splitting shriek from Emma.

  “Oh, God, I’m coming again! I’m coming! Go on, you fucking bitch, ram it into my rectum! Anything you can give, I can take, blade-lady! That’s it—that’s it! Ohhh!” She gave a seismic shudder and then lay moaning and quivering.

  “…As I was saying,” Tiffany continued, “your exact words were, quote: I prefer my women small, curvaceous, and blonde, like Emma Storm. I masturbate over her all the time. Unquote.”

  Kimmy stared at her. “There’s some
thing wrong with your memory there. I wouldn’t have said that. No, Emma’s not my sort at all. I prefer the Bronze Goddess type, if you must know.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you would say,” the Bronze Goddess said. The newspaper fell to the floor as the two women melted into each other, pressing their lips, breasts, and thighs together, their tongues and fingers probing each other’s most intimate secrets.

  THE END

  ABOUT MAYA ANDERS

  Maya Anders writes both fiction and non-fiction, mainly on mystical, spiritual, and paranormal subjects. She spends a lot of time fantasizing about other women’s sex lives.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!