Kinky Mom: Enhanced Interrogations

By Molly Prude

Serenade Springs is gone, but the evil that lurked there is not yet dead. A strange disease is consuming the globe, women are growing rapidly old. Civil society has collapsed, the President has retreated to an undisclosed location...

Molly Prude awakes in a tiny cell, clad in orange, tied to a chair. A black hood is pulled roughly off her head. What happened in Serenade Springs? Her interrogators demand. What caused the outbreak? Why is Molly and her daughters immune to the disease?

Yes, Serenade Springs is gone, but the evil that lurked there is not yet dead.

But Molly has defeated it once before...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Molly Prude
• Release date: Aug 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310235139

Molly Prude

Molly Prude is the star of her own erotic fantasies, she wants you to star in them, too.A native of Philadelphia, a mom and an avid writer, Molly's adventures have recently taken her to the erotic, supernatural community of Serenade Springs. She's always looking for company, so why not tag along and see how kinky a Kinky Mom can really be...

Book preview

Molly Prude's

Kinky Mom

Series II Part 1:

Enhanced Interrogations

Copyright © 2014 by Molly Prude

Smashwords Edition

Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older

Chapter 1

Molly sucked in a stifling breath through the black, cotton hood. She was dizzy, disoriented and only vaguely aware of which way was up. If she had been able, she'd have collapsed to the floor, but she was firmly secured to her chair, her hands cuffed behind it. She wanted to sob in pain, but after hour upon hour of doing so, she'd cried herself out. She couldn't think, she could hardly breathe. She wanted to die.

The hood came off unceremoniously, and Molly reflexively gasped for cold, dry air. The lights were blinding, shadows bobbed before her in the glare. Molly coughed and tried to turn her face from the brilliant lights, but a rough hand grabbed her chin and held it firm. Molly moaned and her eyes began to well up. Perhaps she had not cried herself out yet...

She looks normal, a voice said. Female. How long did you say she'd been here?

Three weeks, a male voice replied. We picked her up at the edge of the blast site, along with four younger women.

And you say none are showing any symptoms?

None.

Please...please...let me go... Molly moaned weakly. Even to her own ears she sounded pathetic. Beaten. Bested. She was ready to tell them anything they wanted to know – she'd already told them everything she could. Still, they weren't satisfied. Still, they kept her tied up and hooded.

What's her story? the woman asked the male voice.

Some nonsense about robots and demons. Nothing that makes any sense.

Nothing about the explosion? Nothing about the contagion?

Nothing, the male voice sounded weary.

And none of them have yet shown any symptoms?

Nothing.

The shadows moved in the bright light. Molly eyes began to adjust. The faces looming over her were black masks, but Molly could make out the clothes: army camo on the man and a blue blazer on the woman, with gold rings around the sleeves.

Mrs. Prude? Mrs. Prude? the woman called out in a clear voice, as if talking to a pet. The gold rings on the sleeve came up and a hand slapped Molly across the cheek. Can you hear me? Mrs. Prude?

Please, no... Molly muttered, the sting of the slap searing her face.

Your daughters are in our custody, the woman said. Molly opened her eyes wide. The girls! Oh God! Molly strained against the glaring light to make out her tormentor's face. The features of a middle-aged woman slowly resolved. She had short, blond or gray hair, in keeping with her military uniform, and eyebrows that were either meticulously plucked or drawn on to her forehead with a pencil. They made her otherwise stern face look slightly inquisitive. Or incredulous.