GI Joe/Danger Girl: Bitch To The Baroness (Patreon)

Abbey tossed and turned restlessly in her bed. It was no wonder she was having trouble sleeping. She was in the middle of Cobra Command, undercover, and had just been responsible for the capture of two GI Joes, who would no doubt be faced with torture and execution if Abbey didn’t pull this off. But on the other hand, Abbey was well-used to catching some shuteye, even in the tensest situations. There was something else deviling her, something she had trouble admitting even to herself.

She was so turned on she could hardly stand it.

It was something about being bad. Dressed up in Cobra’s preferred, fetishistic wear: low-cut, belly-baring top, ass-hugging pants low on her waist, knee-high boots with kicky heels, all in red and black leather like a dominatrix. Or like the Baroness, who she’d had a run-in with as she was bringing the Joes, Flint and Lady Jaye, in.

The Baroness had seen her flirty interplay with Flint (just playing the part, right?) and immediately called Abbey’s bluff… or maybe upped the wager. Offering to allow Abbey to ‘play with’ Flint before his execution; exactly the kind of sick, twisted exercise she would’ve expected from Cobra.

And then again, from the way Flint was responding to her, Abbey didn’t think he’d have too much of a problem, even if the afterplay belonged with certain species of praying mantises. Which was wrong as hell, but still so damn exciting. Abbey didn’t think of herself as particularly kinky, but dressing this way, acting this way, it was thrilling. She didn’t want it to be. It just was.

She had thought that when she was alone and finally dropped the act, the weird psychosexual compulsion to follow through on all this black-leather-evil-innuendo would die away. But being denied only made the drive come back stronger. All she could think about was the Baroness’s dirty, downright depraved proposition. Fucking a man before he was murdered.

And maybe doing it again. And again. And yet again.

But what was she supposed to do? Abbey couldn’t very well send the Baroness a Cobra Memo saying that yes, she would like to fuck Flint, if the offer was still on the table. What would the Baroness even say, in that sensual Russian accent? “Yes, darling, go right ahead and fuck his brains out before we blow his brains out.”

Abbey giggled, thinking about the undeniably wrong, yet undeniably hot possibility.

Suddenly, she felt the mattress moving under her. The Baroness sat at the edge of her bed. Abbey hadn’t even noticed her come in to her quarters. For a woman encased neck to toe in black vinyl, she moved like a cat stalking a mouse.

“What do you have to smile about?” the Baroness asked before answering her own question. “Nothing. Not yet.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Abbey retorted, her eyes widened as, gazing through the darkness, she noticed the streak of pale flesh amidst the black leather and noticed how deeply the Baroness’s catsuit was unzipped. The woman was practically half-naked, her curvaceous breasts bulging out, barely held inside the straining leather that entombed all but the swath of uncovered skin from neckline to navel.

“I might ask you the same thing. For me, it is too hot to sleep.”

Maybe it’s all the black leather, Abbey thought but didn’t say. Worried that the Baroness would go ahead and take it off if she did, maybe. Worried about what she would do if the Baroness did take it off.

“Do you think it’s cooler in here?” she said at length.

“No,” the Baroness said simply. “I think you’re hot too. And I thought perhaps you would like to do something about it with me.”

Abbey’s body was all revved up, begging to charge forward, but she wouldn’t be much of a Danger Girl if she didn’t have a danger sense. And right now it was tingling. Maybe it was a false positive, but Abbey wanted to feel things out a little more before she started getting felt up.

“And would your boyfriend have anything to say about that?”

The Baroness sniffed. “Conventional morality. Destro knows as I do that pleasure is to be taken where it may be taken. Have you ever watched someone you love fuck another? It can be quite enlightening. You gain an aesthetic appreciation that is hard to come by when you are… preoccupied. Perhaps, if you do well, I’ll present you to him. I only bring the best to my Destro, as he only brings the best to me.”

Abbey swallowed. Mr. Baroness had a similar problem with keeping his zipper up top, but even if his chest didn’t offer the delicious curves of his female counterpart, Abbey could readily summon up the memory of the chiseled muscles he did have on display.

It was hardly what the other Danger Girls would think of when they heard the phrase ‘undercover work,’ but who said they had to know?

First, though, Abbey had to keep up appearances. Bad girls like her were never blushing virgins. “What do you mean, ‘if I do well’? You’d think pulling off this outfit you put me in was audition enough.”

The Baroness chuckled. “Think of Destro. Fix his visage in your mind. Does he really strike you as a gentle lover?” She laughed again, low and throaty. “I don’t just want someone who looks the part. I want someone who can act the part.”

“Part?”

“Of my willing whore,” the Baroness purred. “One of many pleasures Cobra has to offer to the strong. But if you have performance anxiety, don’t worry. We’ll start you off small. Or at least, not so big. I did say Flint was the most tempting of the Joes, did I not?”

The Baroness leaned in closer, the open vee in her costume yawning open like a vortex sucking Abbey’s eyes in. Christ, maybe the Baroness was onto something. Keeping her breasts in a catsuit all day made them looking fucking spectacular. Abbey would have to ask Sydney for her tailor.

“Time to give into temptation,” the Baroness cooed, her breath hot against Abbey’s lips.

***

“Flint,” the Baroness cooed, mewling out his prosaic name like it was a signature dish at a five-star restaurant. “Today we prove that even the darkest cloud has a silver lining. Your defeat is at least to mighty Cobra. And even Cobra’s glorious victory of taking you hostage can be made more glorious still. Think of it as a last meal of sorts…”

Flint gritted his teeth, wondering what the hell was going on. Cooped up in a prison cell, he’d expected to be visited by some hiss-heads. Either to torture him for information or just to knock him around in payback for the last several Ls he’d handed the snakes.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was two absolutely stunning lookers like Abbey Chase and the Baroness, both dressed in fetching black leather that made them far more alluring than it did imposing. He was almost used to the Baroness’s gorgeous body, her curvy hips and luscious breasts all fetishistically strapped down under black leather.

So perhaps it was just novelty that Abbey seemed even more enthralling, her deep cleavage on full display, as was her toned belly, bared between her top and skintight leather bottoms. Which itself showed off her long legs and buoyant ass as obscenely as a man could hope to see them. Even though it was leather, he felt sure he could tell that Abbey wasn’t wearing panties under the trousers that tightly encased her lower body. Or if she was, it was too skimpy for anywhere in public besides a nude beach.

It was obvious that Cobra was trying the carrot rather than the stick. Flint felt it was incumbent upon him to let them know he didn’t care what they used, they weren’t getting anything out of him but the same cool resentment they’d face on the battlefield.

“Isn’t it a little late for a meal?” he asked sardonically. “You’d think two ladies with figures like yours would know the value of proper nutrition.”

“Sarcasm. So tiresome,” the Baroness yawned. “Perhaps you’ll be a bit more polite once you’ve seen what we want you to eat.”

She tugged down the zipper on her catsuit, pulling it from its usual position high on her neck to down between her breasts, showing off the plunging valley between their delectable heft.

Flint’s eyes bulged. He’d had his fantasies about the Baroness—everyone did—but he’d never expected them to come even this close to fruition. And then he noticed Abbey was undoing his bonds.

“Hey! What’re you doing?” he demanded of her, rubbing his wrists. Normally, he wouldn’t have wasted a second trying to escape, but as proud as he was of being a Joe, he was a man too.

Of course he was distracted by the Baroness’s insinuations. Not to mention wary of what a cunning fox like her would set up to keep him from doing anything but what she wanted.

“Trusting you to act in your own self-interest, for once,” the Baroness purred. “As irritating as you are, you’ve proven a formidable foe. Cobra will honor your courage by giving you a chance to make up for all the difficulties you’ve caused us over the years. We hope you don’t find the labor too unpleasant.” Her lovely features simmered with a razor-sharp smile. “Although if you do, that can be fun too.”

Flint balled up his fists. “And what’s to stop me from trying my luck taking the two of you out and blowing this popsicle stand?”

“I’d like to see you try,” Abbey hissed, still seeming a mite unconvincing, like she was trying too hard…

But before Flint could ponder that too hard, the Baroness laughed them both off with a wave of her hand. “That might make for an enjoyable show, but I’ll have more than enough violence to watch soon enough. I’d prefer something a bit more… tender. And Flint, to answer your question, my dear Destro has taken a certain interest in how this plays out. He’s watching on the surveillance camera. By all means, spurn my generous offer, but know that Lady Jaye will pay the price for any misstep you make.”

Flint grimaced. Wily as ever, the Baroness had found his weak point. He couldn’t let a fellow Joe get hurt on his account, much less a lady, chauvinistic as it was. So whatever game they had in mind for him, he’d just have to grin and bear it.

And hopefully, when all this is through, I’ll have one hell of a letter to write to the Penthouse Forum. But would he be making it up or was the Baroness finally making an innuendo that wasn’t just a cruel joke?

“Let’s start with a little foreplay. After all, it is a woman calling the shots.” The Baroness smirked imperiously, and even though it was an expression of the dark power she held over Flint’s life, it still made her lovely face all the more sultry and attractive. “Flint, I want you to kiss Ms. Chase.”

“What?” Flint asked, still having a hard time believing that such a pornographic scenario was taking place.

“I said kiss her. Surely, a man of your looks isn’t unfamiliar with the process?”

Flint put his arms around Abbey and did as he was told. It felt good and he was shocked by how readily arousal leapt into his body despite the circumstances, with Abbey responding just as quickly, echoing his own enjoyment.

The Baroness smiled. “That’s better. Now feel up that nubile body a little. See if it’s as good to touch as it is to view.”

Flint slid his hands down to the cool vinyl of Abbey’s trousers and cupped her firm buttocks. Abbey felt the bulge of his rising erection, pressing through his trousers and into her groin.

“Take his cock out, Abbey,” the Baroness commanded.

Abbey resented the intrusion as much as she appreciated the excuse. She backed away from the kiss, then reached down to unzip Flint’s fly. She reached her hand inside, wiggling it into his briefs, and found the bare hardness that had so promisingly tented out his slacks. She pulled the hardened, bristling shaft out into the open air.

“You mean this cock?” Abbey asked with naughty insouciance, jerking on Flint’s prick before the Baroness’s glasses, which she adjusted for a better look.

“Mmm, yes—I see there is one area in which GI Joe doesn’t fall short. Now, Flint, I’m sure you hate to see that Cobra uniform on Abbey’s delectable body. Why don’t you do something about it?”

Flint tugged Abbey’s leather pants down her hips, finding a pretty pair of ice-blue panties underneath. It was a thong, with a crotch only the width of a few fingers hiding her mons. Flint couldn’t help himself—he shook with lust as he worked Abbey’s pants down over her boots. He knelt to do it, and when he stood back up, he slid his hand up Abbey’s leg, between her thighs, and felt her cunt through the thin nylon.

Abbey bit her lip—it was finally hitting her why the Baroness had kicked all this off, driven Abbey literally into Flint’s arms. She wanted to watch them. It was as petty and kinky as that. The Baroness got off on watching people fuck. And Abbey thought she just might get off on being watched.