Spoof Story: Mugged After Midnight by Olive Endwell

My darlings we’re back! After a number of wonderful, thoughtful, and often heavy posts, you probably thought I changed and had depth, didn’t you. 😉 Well, we’re on to silliness again. Remember the series of spoof stories? Yeah. More of that. 😀

As of yet we don’t have a “story blurb/hook” – so if that comes in I’ll add it ASAP. [It was my lack of foresight.] Anyway, I hope you enjoy! If you’re new to this … the wonderful Jen W. of Cover Remix makes … well, spoof covers. Previously I’d already asked people to contribute spoof items for ALBTALBS, and I said this is perfect. So we got together and found delightful victimseager participants who wrote a story based on the cover. 🙂 As you see, this time the brave soul is *ETA ??? (the writer has asked we turn it into a game). 

Mugged After MidnightMugged After Midnight by Olive Endwell

They called her the Queen, and not just because she was named for one of the most famous of the British Royal family. Certainly her bloodlines were pure, but that was not it either. It was because people followed her. A natural leader from the time she was very small, Victoria fit her nickname well. Tonight however, she was alone – taking her turn on perimeter security rotation was good leadership as far as she was concerned. Plus, she liked it.

From atop the seven storey office building, she surveyed her sector of the city, poised to move in case of trouble. At this late hour, there wasn’t much foot traffic. But there was an all-night bodega on the next corner north and someone was always out of milk or cigarettes. A trio of youths walked down the street laughing and joking together. No mental warning bells there. An older couple got out of their car, parked in front of the convenience store – on their way home from somewhere? Threat level: low. From the corner of her eye, she perceived movement. Turning her head, she saw a male – about five eleven, well-built but not bulky, dark hair, woollen overcoat, jeans, sneakers -walking briskly away from her intersection to the west. He sped up until he was nearly running. And then she heard it. The ring of chain, the slap of leather, the slide of a knife coming swiftly out of its sheath. The Devils – a cowardly street gang with a particularly unimaginative name – were back. She’d chased them off months ago but obviously she’d been too lenient. Lesson learned.

Before she could take any action, she became aware of something strange. From deep inside she heard it: Tick. Tick. Tick.

She sucked in a breath. Oh. My. God. Her bonding clock. She stared at the stranger, excitement in her gaze. There was only one thing to do now. She would have helped the man anyway – human males were weak and needed care. But now it was an imperative. He was her mate – her derpling and she must save him!!

Almost before she could rise however and choose her landing site, they were on him. He cried out as a sap hit him across the shoulders, her vision able to pierce the dark of the alley they’d chased him into. Then he was on the ground and the five gangbangers were laying into him with fists and feet and weapons. She leaped from the rooftop, coming to land in a crouch behind the thugs, blocking off their escape. This time she’d teach them a lesson they would not easily forget. Those that survived anyway.

She drew throwing stars from her belt pouch, swiftly dispatching three of the attackers, including the gang leader. She was so fast, the fourth and fifth had barely realised they were under threat, let alone that their quintet was now a duo. She threw out her leg, fast and high, clocking Four in the temple. He fell to the asphalt, stunned. Five turned, holding his knife with threatening intent. With swift kicks and punches, she disarmed him, forcing him face first against the alley wall, arms twisted painfully behind his back.

“Didn’t I tell you to get out and stay out? What part of that did you not understand?”

The smell of urine filled her nostrils. She rolled her eyes in contempt.

“Not so tough now are you?”

With a jerk upward, she heard the satisfying snap of bone and Five screamed, sharp and high.

“If I see you or your boys around here again none of you will survive. Be grateful I’m feeling generous tonight or there wouldn’t be another chance for you.”

Turning to Four who was groggily rising to his feet, she instructed: “Take him out of here, before I change my mind.”

After the thugs had left the alley, Victoria turned to the man on the ground. He was unconscious, blood oozing from a cut to his temple, the right side of his face already swollen and showing early bruising. Even so, he was pretty. She smiled, pleased. He would be a fitting mate to her. Gathering the man in a fireman’s carry, she took off at a lope to the compound.


Sean awoke, confused and dizzy. Sitting up carefully, he realised he was in some kind of infirmary. Not a hospital. The door opened and a beautiful woman entered. She was wearing a tight lycra tank top which outlined small high breasts (no bra, he noted), tight shiny pants, and ankle boots with a short spiked heel and, were they… spurs? Long dark hair in a tight braid, cheekbones which could cut glass and striking green eyes. She was the most lovely creature he’d ever seen.

“Good, you’re awake. I am Victoria, leader of the Derp Sidhe,” the woman stated. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, okay, bit of a headache. Where am I?”

“In the BlackDerp Brotherhood Compound. I brought you here after you were attacked in an alley by some gangbangers. Do you remember what happened? Can you tell me your name?”

“Sean. Sean West.” He replied. “I remember bits and pieces. I was heading to the shop and then people were following me… It’s fuzzy after then.”

There was a brief pause and then he asked “What is a Derp Sidhe?”

“We are a supernatural race of women, somewhat similar to your mythical Amazons. We protect and care for the humans in our territory. Tonight you were attacked in my territory. I have seen to it that this will not be repeated. I cannot bring myself to regret it however – it has brought us together.”

Leaving aside the last bit of her answer, he asked instead: “Supernatural? Does that mean you have super powers?”

“We are very strong and agile and long lived. Some of our kind have specific talents but we cannot fly if that is what you mean.”

“Oh, good to know.” He wasn’t tracking very well. He was overwhelmed and confused. “Hey, what’s that noise?”

“What noise?”

“The ticking noise.”

“You hear it too?” she asked, satisfied. Not that she needed the confirmation.

“Well?” he queried.

“It’s my bonding clock. As soon as I saw you, it started. You and I, we are meant to be together. Being with me could mean danger for you though, as my kind has enemies. All Winders live in the compound. We will need to move your things.”


“Winders are those who set off the bonding clock. It’s another name for a member of the BlackDerp Brotherhood – our mates. In what location are your belongings? I shall send someone for them.”

“Wait a minute! Don’t you think we should at least have dinner first?” he joked. But she could tell from his face that he wasn’t averse to what she was offering. It was a gift of the Derp Sidhe, courtesy of the bonding clock. She would always know what he wanted. What he needed.

Victoria crossed to the bed and leaned down, her face close to Sean’s, gazing into his startling violet eyes. She turned her face and whispered near his ear “Dinner is for after.” Then she moved to his mouth and laid her lips over his. He opened his mouth to her questing tongue and was immediately lost. Passion surged inside him, the likes of which he had never known. His tongue duelled with hers in a sensual battle he had no hope of winning. Her hands roamed his body, sliding over his chest and abdomen, down to the waistband of his jeans. So caught up in the kiss was he that he barely noticed she’d undone the buttonfly until a hand reached into his boxer briefs and grasped his rock hard cock. He groaned as her clever hands stroked him and she broke the kiss and began to slide her open mouth down his neck, stopping just below his jaw to give him a quick bite with small sharp teeth.

“It will ever be thus between us” she whispered, “it is the blessing of the Derp.”

Then she released him and stood. “Unfortunately, this delight must be continued later. Before the mating, you must meet my sisters.”

Sean was in agony. “Please!” he begged. “You can’t leave me like this.”

Victoria laughed softly, “I will make it up to you dear derpling, I promise.”


Victoria led Sean into a wide assembly hall with a dais at the far end. About thirty women were milling around, conversation a low buzz in the room. As the first of the sisters spied the couple however, the noise ceased altogether. Victoria strode confidently to the dais, beckoning Sean with her.

She stood before her sisters and raised her hands.

“Behold, my sisters. My Winding Time has come. This man is Sean West and he has set off my Bonding Clock. Let the ritual commence.”

Sean was dumbstruck. Ritual? Wait, he didn’t even know this woman? Sure, she was hot but he had the feeling something important was happening. Something he wasn’t ready for.

“Um, Victoria,” he whispered. She looked his way, curious.

“What is happening?”

“The mating ritual will take place and you will be initiated into the Black Derp Brotherhood. Once you have been marked, you will be able to meet the other derplings.”

“Mating ritual?” he said, his voice rising. “Marked?”

“Fear not, my love, this is what is best for you. And the marking will not hurt. Very much.” She smiled revealing her sharp teeth.

One by one the other sisters came to the dais and laid their hands on Sean. Some touched his chest or his face, others, his hips or his butt. He felt very uncomfortable but when he looked over at Victoria, she seemed relaxed and pleased with the attention he was receiving. Each sister each laid at his feet, of all things, a banana leaf and intoned words in a foreign language. He hadn’t heard it before. For some reason, it sounded ancient to his ears. Then each sister bowed before Victoria and moved on for the next.

Sean whispered to Victoria: “What’s the deal with the banana leaves?”

Victoria replied equally quietly: “It is a symbol of fertility in our culture. The other derplings will teach you to make a hammock out of the leaves after the ceremony. It is good fortune to have a well-made banana hammock. Now hush.”

After each sister had got a good look at him, deposited their banana leaf and said the ritual words, Victoria turned to him and said: “Take off your clothes.”

He gulped. “Here?”

“Yes, here,” she said. “There is no shame in a well formed derpling. It is necessary for the marking.”

He looked into Victoria’s eyes. Even though this was outside his comfort zone, he drew confidence from her. She would always know what is right, what is best, he found himself thinking. Something felt so right about what was happening. Yes, he was her mate. Her Winder. He stripped.

The sisters made noises of appreciation as he stood naked in the big hall. Victoria inspected him and gestured for him to turn around so he faced away from the other women. He felt a warm rush of air and Victoria whispered “be still my derpling” and then sharp teeth bit into his butt – a fiery pain. Why then was he suddenly hard as a railway spike?

Victoria smiled against the warm flesh of her mate. She could smell his arousal. “Yes,” she thought, “He is a fitting mate for me.”

A sister brought the ritual balm which both soothed the mark and ensured its permanence and Victoria smoothed it on carefully, murmuring soothing words to Sean. Her other hand slipped around to his front, delighted with his arousal and gave him a couple of approving tugs. She wondered idly how Sean did this for himself. His hands were remarkably tiny.

Victoria dressed Sean in the black robe of the Black Derp Brotherhood and together, they faced the Sisters, triumphant.

Sean’s butt was a little sore, but it wasn’t too bad. They had moved into some kind of refectory and an impromptu party had commenced. There was even cake. The Sisters were joined by men in black robes just like his – there were perhaps twenty or so, not enough for every one of the women to have a mate.

“Sean,” Victoria said. “This is my good friend Kara.”

He turned to see a tall woman with red-gold hair smiling at him. “Welcome Sean,” Kara said. “I am so happy Victoria has finally met her mate. When she started wearing the pleather jeggings, we knew her time was running out.”

“I’m sorry?” Sean said.

Kara explained. “In our species, a Sister begins to lose her sense of taste at around age 100. By the time she has no taste at all, which can be a period of anything from 5 to 10 years, it is too late for her to ever find her Winder.”

“Taste?” Sean queried. “As in the taste of spicy food or something?”

“No,” Kara laughed. “Taste. Before Victoria’s mother met her Winder she started wearing big shoulder pads and leg warmers. Victoria’s sister, Marta, only wears stonewash denim.” Kara shuddered. “It’s a genetic defect in our species. Unfortunately, the effects are permanent, but now that the ritual mating has taken place, it won’t get any worse at least.”

Sean wondered what pleather jeggings were. Were they those tight shiny pants Victoria wore? He found them strangely attractive. It was just another way he knew he and his new mate were perfect for each other.

He smiled beatifically at Kara. He had a feeling being mugged after midnight was going to work out to be the best thing that could ever have happened to him.


3 thoughts on “Spoof Story: Mugged After Midnight by Olive Endwell

  1. Pingback: A little Derping After Dark |

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