Kim Possible Porn Story: Honeymoon Hijinks Chapter 5

Honeymoon Hijinks: Chapter 5

I.

Ronald Stoppable, you are a dead man walking. Monique moaned to herself. Just a little trip to the Riviera, no problem. Now I not only have a massive headache, but… She jerked her wrists behind her back, tried to straighten her legs, I have apparently been kidnapped, and judging from that grunt, you aren’t with me. Unless your voice has suddenly gotten much lighter. Grimacing against her headache, Monique began working her hands down her back and under her bottom. I may not be a cheerleader, but I can do this. With a grunt, she managed to slide her bound wrists further. I can do this. Monique slid to her back, her legs coming up into the air, her wrists popping past her buns into the crook of her knees she felt two feet collide firmly with her backside, sliding her head into some kind of canvas. Ooof. She grunted, continuing to work her hands up. The feet moved around her bottom seeking a target, then lashed out harshly. Owwww!

With her hands in front of her reached for the clothe gagging her. What felt like a small heel smashed between her thighs, doubling her head into her lap. Tearful eyes blazing with anger, Monique raised both legs, bringing her heels down hard. A muffled uhhhh… answered her. That’ll teach you to kick… She thought in satisfaction, right before the feet between her legs rose and extended sharply.

Monique bit her lip in renewed pain. Oh, no you didn’t, not the girls! Forgetting her gag, she dropped her legs, rose to her knees, with bound claws extending, she lunged forward.

II.

Ron looked at the two in astonishment. My wife will be returning in a moment, gentlemen, why would I want to go with you?

The closest suit, a middle aged, portly man, pulled a wallet from his coat, flipping it open and closing it. The other suit, tall and lean, pulled his jacket open to show the butt of a pistol. The first put his wallet away. That was not a request, M’sieu.

A sickly smile grew on Ron’s face. Well, when you put it like that. He pushed his chair back and stood, walking away between the two. As they passed an alley, Ron stopped. You know, I didn’t get a good look at your I.D. Could I see that again?

I don’t think you need to see it. The portly man reached for Ron’s arm. Ron heard the one behind take two fast steps. Before the first could grab him, Ron ducked under his arm, bringing his leg up behind him to intersect the thin one’s groin. As his heel connected he grabbed the first’s elbow, forcing the man to extend his grasp, stumbling into a half circle. As his back turned to Ron, Ron surged up, putting a breaker hold on him. Glancing over his shoulder, Ron saw the lean man crumpled on the ground groaning. Whirling the first in front of him into the alley, Ron threw a right cross to his jaw, dropping him. He whirled to the second, seeing him beginning to recover, reaching into his jacket. Ron took three steps and brought his elbow down on the man’s neck. He grabbed the black collar, dragging the lean man into the alley with his companion. Ron reached in the short man’s coat, pulling out his wallet. He shook his head, then reached down to pull the man’s head up. Ron shook him. When this got no reaction, Ron began slapping the flabby face back and forth.

Wh-what? The man finally responded groggily.

Ron held the wallet in front of the fat face. All right, what’s going on? I’ve seen better fake id’s on high school kids.

The eyes cut back and forth, settling on the crumpled body thrown further in the alley.

That’s right. Ron growled, And unless you want to join him, start talking.

I…I don’t know what….

Wrong answer. Ron said mildly. His hand reached out, fingers curling into the depression between the shoulder and neck. He squeezed with two fingers. The broad mouth opened in a silent scream. Now, if I have to go to the trouble of taking you and your pal somewhere private… He let the threat go unvoiced.

Non, please. The man gasped, We were given ten thousand Euros and told to take you to…to…

Ron grabbed the man’s throat. Don’t clam up now, maggot. He smiled evilly. I’d really, really hate to have to work for the information.

The man swallowed heavily. All…all I know is we were to take you to the basement. That’s all, I swear!

Ron’s grin grew. I believe you. He snapped his knuckles lightly between the close eyes. The eyes rolled up, the fat man collapsed. I knew I should have worn my old clothes. Ron groused as he lifted the man up, then carried him to a nearby dumpster.

III.

Calm down. The voice on her phone replied. You don’t have to become intimate with him, we’ve made other arrangements. Of course, the cost of those arrangements will come out of your….ah…commission.

What? That’s not fair! I…

You were supposed to retrieve the item from him, you failed. The voice sounded both bored and dangerous. Do not fail us again. The connection terminated.

The black luxurious hair momentarily turned straight, long, and blond. This is like, so not fair. The owner wailed.

IV.

Yori groggily tried to open her eyes. Where…what…. She felt two thumps on her bosom. Attacked…being attacked. Reflexively she returned the strike by straightening her legs. She heard a muffled moan. Yes, now…seize…initiative. She drove her bare feet between the attackers legs. A muffled howl answered, just before a body fell on her, hands reaching to tear her hair.

Hands…bound…must defend. Yori sliced at her bounds with the hardened, sharp nail of her little finger, trying to ignore the pain of her almost detached scalp. You will pay for this assault, cowardly one. She managed as her bonds broke. The adrenaline began flushing the drug from her rapidly awaking system. She brought her hands together in front of her, their joining sharply interrupted by soft pliant flesh. Her inadvertent strike was answered by a muffled squeal and a head butt. Her eyes watering, Yori snarled soundlessly. Ok, that is enough. No one strikes… Her interior rant was interrupted by two joined fists striking her soft mounds. She reached up instinctively, grabbed two handfuls of hair and twisted. The body on top gave a wordless snarl. Yori felt the hands leave her and drive up, colliding sharply with her chin. The twisting harder on her hold, the two grapplers fell sideways. Twin squeals resounded as the support they expected failed. They felt themselves falling a short distance before they rolled out of their enclosure. Two heads came up to see shadows instead of darkness. Twin glares snarled into enraged eyes. One set of bound fists drew back, one hand prepared for a knife strike.

Monique! Yori! A strangled, familiar voice squeaked. What’s with the gags? Are you fighting? And…and….Where are your clothes?