Busty Dragon

"I'm glad you're not hurt. I got there as quick as I could."

"Sarah, is it? You arrived in the nick of time, Sarah. The gentleman you clobbered so efficiently was the brother of someone we had arrested last week for wholesale distribution of narcotics. Instead of posting bail to get his brother out he decided to use a more direct approach. He was trying to kidnap us so he could make a trade. You see, you didn't just stop a mugging, you disrupted the commission of a Federal crime. Now at the risk of sounding ungrateful; who the hell are you?"

"Sheriff, I don't know what I can tell you... well maybe I do. Are you still looking for those twenty outlaw bikers who beat up those poor escaped convicts?"

Foster laughed, "Lord, no. There aren't any gangs of bikers riding around this county beating up... oh shit! Pardon my French. You're not trying to tell me..."

"I am the twenty bikers, Sheriff. I am also the dead girl, in case that part of the case is still open. You can quit looking." The ambulance had arrived outside, and most of the restaurant patrons were too busy gawking out the front windows to pay any attention to our conversation, so I felt safe having this discussion on a public place.

Sheriff Foster was speechless. He just kept staring at me with his jaw set until Connie brought his drink. He picked it up and gulped half of it before he could think of something to say.

"Ah, those two cons were doing a total of 170 years hard time for multiple counts of rape and murder," he said. "They were scheduled to be transferred upstate because we considered them to be too dangerous to keep in our local facility. As nasty customers go in this state, those are among the worst. Were, that is." He paused for another sip of his drink. The smell of it on his breath was making my eyes water. "The hospital tells me that Leon Brenneke will be well enough to move in a couple of months. He may recover physically, eventually, but no one who has interviewed him thinks he will ever pose a threat to society again. Claude "Bubba" Carstairs has been permanently disqualified from ever having children. Both his testicles had to be removed and his pelvis was so badly fractured that he will need two more operations to put him back together.

When they were picked up they were both so scared that they had shit themselves. During the post-capture interview, when we told them that we knew their biker gang story was a load of bull they both became quite agitated, almost hysterical, and insisted that we had to believe them. In short, they were both broken, physically and mentally. I've been wondering what we had in this town that was so bad-ass and so damn scary that it could do that. Now that I've met you, I see how they got so beat up, but I've changed my mind about knowing how you scared them so bad. I've decided that that is something I am better off not knowing.

"In my line of work, I've met many professionals. Special Warfare Operatives, SEALs, SAS and SBS commandos, ex-CIA spooks and the like. Seems like their favourite form of retirement is to open a school or become a consultant or trainer and sell their experience to local law enforcement agencies. These were all very impressive people, but I don't think any of them could have done what you did.

"Now I don't know where you came from or who you work for and I don't want to know. I'll help preserve your cover as a professional courtesy. I owe you for what you've done, too. Both last night and tonight. You'll find that I am a man who pays his debts in full." The Sheriff took out a business card and wrote a number on the back before giving it to me. "This is my private line. Call me if there is ever anything, I can do for you."

"Thank you, "I told him. "I'm glad you appreciate the need for confidentiality, even deniability, in my line of work. I want to assure you that I'm not here to cause any trouble, not that I could discuss that with you anyway. On the contrary, I plan to make a contribution toward keeping our community a safer place to live. I hope you don't have a problem with that?"

"Lord, no! I'm not one of these bleeding-heart social liberals, placing the blame on society for every crime that is committed. I believe that when you are dealing with people like Brenneke and Carstairs, the result is what counts, not the details. If I find the occasional felon lying on the sidewalk in need of medical attention, you won't catch me looking a gift horse in the mouth."

"Then we have an understanding. I will try to keep a low profile. The last thing I want is publicity. I will try to arrange things so that your department gets all the credit whenever possible. Some of which I will notify you about, others will have to remain need-to-know, I'm afraid." Foster nodded his understanding and acceptance of the situation.

"I am just getting set-up now, I hope you will be able to help me with some things, communications equipment, for example. I wouldn't want us to have any friendly-fire incidents and the best way to avoid that is for me to know what is going on. Vehicle registrations and permits would be helpful, too. I have something that I would rather not be registered in my name." He waved a hand to mean that none of my requests would be a problem. I got the impression that he thought he was getting off light.

"I want you to call me if you have a situation where you think I can help. You can see how I could be a better option than a SWAT call-up in certain situations?" He nodded.

"Oh, one security detail. We will need an operational codeword. My codename is Busty Dragon." I tranced and stuck out a hand. "Nice meeting you, Sheriff."

Foster took my hand and I cranked down my grip. His eyes bulged. I smiled sweetly. No sense in letting him leave with the slightest doubt in his mind. When I thought he had had enough, I let go and motioned to Connie, who was standing next to the coffee urn, watching us. She stepped over and I said, "Our guests are ready to be shown to their own table, please Connie."

"Yes, ma'am. Right this way please." Bob and Grace left for a booth on the other side of the large room and I climbed back onto my chair, mooning everyone at the table in the process. When I turned around, I was grinning like the proverbial cat who had swallowed the canary. Everyone was staring at me.

"What?" I said.

"Dragon?" Jan said.

"Hey, it was the best I could do on the spur of the moment. I can't be leaving phone messages and stuff in my own name, can I?" I picked up my spoon and stirred my coffee.

"Busty Dragon?" Bud said.

I turned towards Bud, reminding him of the sheer size and shape of my breasts. I put down the spoon and closed my eyes while I did the trance thing. I visualized my face covered with a vivid photographic image of a terrifying fire breathing dragon that I had seen in an anime. I held the image for a few seconds and then wiped it and detranced. When I opened my eyes, no one spoke. No one moved. Everyone had the strangest look on their faces. It was the same look of astonishment that I was coming to expect whenever I displayed some new ability.

Several seconds passed before Jim said emphatically, "Dragon! Perfect disguise too. No one could possibly identify you with that on your face."

I took a sip of my coffee and looked past the end of the table toward the far side of the room. Sheriff Foster was looking at me with a stunned expression that told me that he had seen The Dragon, too. I stared back and he quickly found something else to look at. I thought I just might have impressed the Sheriff more than I intended. His protest about not wanting to know what made me so scary could not stop him from thinking about it. And I had just given him material for a few nightmares. He knew I could fight and he now knew I could change my appearance on demand. That was enough for the moment. Since not even I knew all that I could do, there was no point in giving everything away.

When Connie brought the check, she laid the leather folder in front of me. I passed it along to Jan, the woman with the credit card and held Connie's hand while it was produced and passed back. When I handed the folder back to Connie, I could tell she had become attached to me. I watched her reluctantly go off to ring up the charges.

"Sarah?" Jan said to get my attention. She passed me a slip of paper that had been in the folder. It said, "Connie Falducci" and below that was a phone number. I put it in my shiny black purse.

As we left the restaurant I looked back at Connie and winked as I stuck my thumb back into my mouth. I saw her grab the back of a chair to keep from falling over.

Jan, after I introduced her to Jim and Bud as the woman who took my virginity, walked out with us and without any explanation got into the car. Apparently, she was coming home with us. I asked my roommates if they had any issue with a smoking hot, grey eyed, beauty stayed with us. They nodded their approval before I finished asking them.

The ride home was very relaxing. I jumped onto Bud's lap and he fingered my pussy all the way while I purred in his ear. The weekend had been so exciting that we were all tired and I could not bring myself to put any more on Bud for a while. He seemed to understand. He even held my hand all the way upstairs where he escorted me to my own room and opened the door for me.

"Good night, Sarah." He said. I gave him a hug.

"'Night, Bud. See you in the morning." He closed the door behind me and I went right to my alarm clock to set it for 6am.

After a warm shower I hopped into bed and went right to sleep. My dreams were all about dragons, but none of them scared me. After all, wasn't I the baddest, bustiest Dragon of all?