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From: Pulp Fan <pulpfan@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: Pat Savage in "Bronze Lust" (Ch. 1 of 8, F solo)
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"Bronze Lust" is a long adventure story filled with lots of graphic
sex in various scenarios, as the main character gets herself into
loads of sexual situations.  Certain of the characters, including the
main character, are taken from the Doc Savage series originally
written in the 1930s and 1940s, and reprinted in paperback until
recently.  It shouldn't (hopefully) be necessary for you to know much
about Doc Savage to enjoy the story, but if you've never read a Doc
story before, then all you really need to know is that Doc and his
crew of five roam the globe fighting crime, and that Pat Savage, the
heroine of my tale, is his gorgeous cousin.

This is the first story I've written and submitted, and I hope some of
you enjoy it.  If you have any comments or critiques you'd like to
share with me, I'd love to hear from you.  Please send e-mail to
pulpfan@anon.nymserver.com.   Thanks!



THE PULP HEROINES IN PERIL SERIES, EPISODE ONE

PAT SAVAGE IN

"BRONZE LUST"

by

A Pulp Fan

DISCLAIMER:  "Doc Savage" is a registered trademark of Conde Nast
Publications, Inc.  As should be readily apparent, this story has not been
authorized by Conde Nast and the author makes no claim on any of the
characters contained herein who originally appeared in "Doc Savage
Magazine."  No disrespect is meant to Lester Dent, John Nanovic or any of
the other people involved in writing or creating one of the greatest
adventure heroes in American fiction.  I just decided to take things a
little (well, maybe more than a little) farther than Philip Jose Farmer
did.  This story may be freely copied and posted via newsgroups or on
webpages without further permission, but please do not modify it (and
please don't post it on alt.pulp or alt.fan.doc-savage, where underage
folks might read it).  Oh yeah, this story contains explicit matter of a
sexual nature and if you are under legal age in your jurisdiction, stop
reading this and go off and read "The Man of Bronze!"

This story contains: F solo, MF, FF, MMMF, MFF, NC.

Chapter One
Bronze Knockout

    It happened because Pat's pussy whimpered.

    Of course, if Doc Savage had been in town, it likely wouldn't have
happened at all--at least not the way it turned out.  That's because if Doc
were in town, his five aides would probably have been in town with him, and
Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett Mayfair--better known to his friends as
Monk--would have been staying over at Pat Savage's place for the night.

    However, the Man of Bronze and his crew had left New York suddenly,
without telling Pat where they had gone.  This was a precautionary bit of
work on Doc's part, for if his adventure loving cousin had known that they
were leaving the country on one of their many adventures, Doc would have
had to spend a great deal of time in making sure Pat didn't finagle her way
into the middle of it.   Although Doc Savage would probably have argued
that he performed his work for the good of mankind, rather than from any
love of excitement and danger, the truth was that this thrill seeker
mentality ran deep in the Savage genes, and Pat's impressive figure had a
whopping share of it.  Sometimes Doc felt that it was more work stopping
Pat from worming her way into the middle of their latest adventure and
keeping Pat out of trouble than it was to solve the trouble in the first
place.

    And so Doc and the fabulous five had departed for climes unknown, leaving
his gorgeous cousin to her own devices.

    Although they were an incongruous couple, the simian- seeming Monk and the
bronzed bombshell Pat had one thing in common--an insatiable love for sex. 
Having discovered their mutual interest some months ago, many of Monk's
nights in the city were spent over at Pat's penthouse apartment, fucking
until late in the evening, and often resuming the following morning, as one
or the other of the couple would wake the other up by their oral
ministrations.  The first time Pat had seen Monk naked, her eyes had
widened in astonishment before she exclaimed that his nickname should have
been Horse.  The affair had, to this point, been kept a secret, since both
felt that the Man of Bronze would have more than frowned on their
relationship--and indeed, might even come to blows with Monk if he felt
that the chemist had taken advantage of his cousin.

    It was for this reason that Pat, despite her attraction to one of Doc's
other aides, Ham, had done little more than fantasize about doing Monk and
Ham together--assuming, for the moment, that she could have convinced them
to put aside their perpetual quarrel for a few hours.  She had concluded
that, in all likelihood, even if she were willing to increase the risk that
Doc would learn of her affair with Monk, Monk and Ham would leave her
frustrated, left to take matters into her own skilled hands, while they
argued over who got to plunge his cock into her wet pussy and who would be
brought to climax by Pat's well trained tongue and lips.

    Although Monk was travelling with his companions in danger, the luscious
lady adventurer was roused from slumber by the lapping of a rough tongue
across her bronzed skin.  The owner of this wet appendage, however, was not
Monk-- whose ability to bring her to orgasm after orgasm while eating her
delicious cunt continued not only to amaze her but also served to further
endear Monk to Pat.  Rather, the tongue in question belonged to Pat's
latest love.
    Groaning softly as she struggled awake and used her hand to push the
tongue and its owner away from her face, where it had cleaned her cheek
thoroughly, Pat propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at the
other occupant of the bed.  Though it was early in the morning, the sun
streaming into the room was scarcely less radiant than the female Savage. 
Bronze hair, slightly dishevelled from sleep, cascaded past her shoulders
and down her back, with a few wisps resting on and partially obscuring her
tanned breasts.  With the bedsheet bunched up down about her waist, Pat's
golden globes were exposed to the morning sun, large and firm, tipped with
crinkled coral nipples which seemed to be begging to be kissed and
caressed.

    The effect was, unfortunately, lost on the other occupant of the bed, down
upon whom Patricia Savage stared fondly with gold-flecked eyes.

    A pair of feline eyes stared unblinkingly back at her.

    "So, how'd you sleep, Curlers?" she asked the tan cat lying next to her,
reaching out a hand to stroke its fur.  A soft purring was the only reply.

    The cat was a recent acquisition of Pat's.  A few weeks before, she had
gone shopping in the city and, upon returning to her car, was surprised to
find a tan kitten waiting outside of it, meowing piteously.  The cat had no
collar or tag, but seemed to know that it had found a soft touch.  Pat had
taken the cat back to her place, where it had promptly made itself at home
both in her apartment and her heart.

    It had been Monk who had suggested that, since his ape was named Chemistry
while Ham's pig bore the moniker Habeas Corpus, what the cat needed was a
name that evoked, in some way, Pat's business.  This business--not her
business of getting into trouble, but the one at which she pulled in the
green stuff--was operating a beauty salon.

    To say that it was an upscale salon would have been a gross
underexaggeration.  Operated in an exclusive location on Park Avenue, the
salon catered to all of the leaders of fashion in the city, charging
outrageous prices and making the clientele love it.  As Doc had dryly
commented to Pat on more than one occasion, highway robbers could take a
few tips from her.

    And so Pat had decided on the name "Curlers" for her new companion.
    Finishing scratching her pussy cat's head, Pat jumped out of bed.  The
sight of Pat jumping out of bed was enough to make a strong man go weak in
the knees and develop problems swallowing.  Pat liked to sleep in the
raw--a trait much appreciated by Monk--and watching Pat get out of bed was
one of his favorite activities, though not quite as favorite as getting her
into bed.  Men called Doc Savage a physical marvel; seeing his physique,
they could only stare in amazement at what the human body could, given the
proper genetics and training, be molded into.  What men called his cousin,
Pat Savage, was generally along the same lines, though generally including
the words bombshell, dropdead, knockout and gorgeous in copious amounts. 
Having inherited the Savage genes, Pat's nearly six foot frame had been
developed through plenty of physical activity--including boxing and fencing
lessons which had made her more than a match for most men in these
sports--and had stayed in fighting trim through a routine of regular
exercise.  Though Pat loved to scrap and would do nearly anything to get
herself inserted into one of Doc's adventures, on a more day-to-day basis
the chief benefit she derived from her exercise routine--in addition to
maintaining one of Manhattan's most stunning bodies--was the increased
sexual stamina her exercise program gave her.

    Pat was not only insatiable, when it came to sex, she was practically
inexhaustible.  She liked nothing better than to ride on Monk's cock for
hours, driving it in and out of her wet pussy while her bronzed thighs,
glistening with her sweat, went up and down, up and down, pulling herself
nearly off his penis and then dropping back down on it until it was buried
fully inside her.  The only problem was that usually she could keep it up a
lot longer than Monk could keep it up, but Pat didn't mind.  Not only did
she love the feel of his cum shooting into her and coating the inside of
her quim, by the time Monk let go with his load, she generally had already
brought herself to several crashing climaxes from riding his cock and
grinding her clit into his groin or rubbing herself with her fingers while
fucking him.  And if she wanted more, cleaning the mixture of her pussy
juice and Monk's cum off of his cock with her lips and tongue, all the
while smiling at him with wide, innocent golden eyes, was always enough to
get him ready for another round.

    Monk liked to think he was in shape, and he was though he didn't exercise,
but just watching Doc Savage perform the two hours of exercise he undertook
each day made Monk sweat.  Watching Pat perform her exercises had the same
effect on him, with the added effect of invariably giving him a raging
hard-on.  Since her workout program inevitably made her extremely horny by
its finish, this came in quite handy.

    On this morning, however, only the eyes of Curlers the cat were witness to
Pat's lithe form bouncing out of bed.  The sheet fell away from her toned
body, revealing her long muscular legs, topped by a neatly trimmed triangle
of bronze pubic hair, as Pat made her way from the bed, across the plush
carpeting that covered the floor to the radio--an experimental model
designed by Doc which cut down considerably on static, as well as requiring
almost no time to warm up.

    As music began to fill the room, Pat began her morning exercise routine,
stretching her shapely arms towards the ceiling, causing her slightly
bouncing breasts to lift up as if offering their pink tips in worship to
the gods, while Curlers looked on with an expression that might have been
boredom--but in a cat, who could tell?

    For half an hour, Pat worked out to the strains emanating from the radio,
causing her breasts and ass cheeks to jiggle enticingly, working up a
healthy sweat until her entire bronzed body stood glistening, leaving her
looking like some prehistoric jungle queen after the rains.  The wetness
between her thighs, however, was not due entirely to perspiration.  Working
out always made her delectable pussy juices flow and invariably left her
horny and eager to fuck.  It was with a sigh of regret that she thought
once more about her absent lover.

    Finally finished with and panting slightly from her exertions, Pat padded
into the bathroom, grabbing her bathrobe along the way, and stepped into
the shower.  Not wanting to let her out of his sight, Curlers followed
along behind and curled up on the bathroom rug.  As the water poured over
Pat's lithe form, she soaped herself thoroughly, lathering her taut stomach
and muscular thighs, enjoying the feeling of the tiny jets of water
cascading off her body, shampooing and rinsing her luxurious bronze hair.

    Squeaky clean at last, Pat began to daydream about the last time she and
Monk had showered together.  Dropping to her knees before him and gazing up
at him with a devilish grin across her luscious lips, she had lathered up
his cock and balls and slowly began to jerk him off with her skilled hands,
pausing occasionally to lightly run her fingernails across his scrotum.  As
she thought about the encounter, her hands moved slowly up her young body,
sliding across her stomach until they cupped her breasts, pushing them up
and together so that tiny rivulets of water, like miniature waterfalls,
cascaded from her rapidly hardening nipples.  Her fingers grasped the
engorged peaks between them and she began to twist and pull on them gently,
shooting sparks of pleasure throughout her and causing her cunt to moisten
further in anticipation.   Bending her head down, she flicked her agile
tongue across the crimson tips while she recalled how Monk had stared down
at her and begged her to take him into her hot, wet mouth.  Smiling, Pat
remembered her refusal to do so, and how she had kept stroking his ten inch
dick, pausing now and then as the suds were washed away to soap it up more
thoroughly.  Monk had clutched the walls of the shower and groaned at the
exquisite sensations as he grew closer and closer to cumming--then he had
gasped even louder as one of Pat's soapy fingers had worked its way between
his nether cheeks and into his ass, probing as her other hand increased its
speed, travelling from the head of his cock to its base and then back
again, gently twisting as it went back and forth.

    By this point in her reminiscing, one of Pat's hands had left her breasts
and slid back down her stomach, through her neatly trimmed bush and spread
the folds of her labia, loving the feel of the warm water coursing along
the folds of her vagina.  Leaning back against the shower wall, she slowly
stroked her clitoris, sliding her fingers around and around her pussy,
dipping two fingers into the moist heat of her cunt and bringing them back
out, spreading her love juices on her clit as she teased it and felt it
harden between her legs.  Waves of pleasure spread through her body as her
other hand alternately fondled and pinched her nipples, moving from one
globe to the other, playing with the turgid tips.  Groaning with delight,
she finally slid this hand too down her body, around her side until it
reached her luscious ass, sliding it soapily back and forth between her ass
cheeks, brushing and teasing her asshole as it went up and down, up and
down, all the while the fingers of her other hand were slipping back and
forth, gently rubbing her clit as the hot water poured down upon her.

    Getting closer and closer to bringing herself off, Pat needed to feel
something filling her hot cunt.  Reluctantly moving her left hand from her
ass, she reached out and pushed against one of the shower tiles.  It swung
open on a spring hinge, revealing a hidden compartment.  Reaching in, Pat
withdrew a porcelain dildo of exquisite workmanship and impressive size--a
gift from Monk procured during a recent excursion to India.  Grasping the
artificial cock by its base, she let the water play over it for a moment
before bringing it swiftly to her heated cunt.  Using the fingers of her
right hand to spread her lower lips apart, she slowly and tantalizingly
inserted the slick dildo into her pussy, pushing it past her tight opening
until several inches were buried inside of her.  Closing her eyes, Pat
began to rub her clit faster and faster, all the while plunging the hard
shaft in and out of her sopping quim.  As she climbed towards her orgasm,
her mind remembered what she had asked Monk, as one hand jerked him off and
the other slid a slim finger in and out of his ass.

    "Do you want to squirt that nice cum all over my face?" she had asked her
lover as his breathing came faster and faster and his hips began jerking
more rapidly in rhythm with her demanding hand.

    "Oh yeah, Pat..." he had moaned, "I want to cum all over you...on your
face...on your tits...I want to spray you with my cum...it feels so
good..."

    "Then do it baby, cum all over me, cum all over me!" she had commanded as
her hand stroked his cock faster and faster.  With a load groan, Monk
exploded in orgasm, cum jetting out from his spasming cock and splattering
Pat all over her eager face and firm, bronzed breasts, coating her with
glistening milky drops, partially obscuring her coral nipples with a
translucent sheen.  Monk's third spurt Pat caught in her open mouth, pink
tongue extended to catch the white tribute she was milking from her lover's
dick.  As Monk finished cumming and leaned back against the shower wall
with a sigh, Pat ducked her head forward and licked up from the base of his
dick to its head, collecting the gooey mess on her tongue, before ducking
her head down further and, using her hands to lift her tits, licking her
breasts clean of his jism before the rushing water could rinse it all away.

    Remembering the taste of Monk's juice in her mouth, Pat came hard in the
shower, little guttural cries escaping her tensed lips, as she slammed the
wet dildo in and out of her dripping twat and furiously rubbed her clit. 
Knees nearly buckling, she spasmed again and again, thrusting her hips back
against the welcoming shaft which was being driven deeper and deeper into
her, as waves of pleasure swept through her nubile body.  Her talented
fingers wildly continued their erotic dance of self gratification,
frantically massaging her clit and cuntlips, eking out the final peaks of
her climax.  Finally, she slumped back exhausted, the porcelain proxy--its
task completed--sliding gently out of her pussy and falling to the shower
floor.

    After spending a few moments to relax and enjoy the euphoric glow which
infused her shivering body, Pat reluctantly reached out and shut off the
water before stepping out of the shower stall.  Drying herself with a
fluffy towel, she smiled down at Curlers.

    "Cat, I love you to pieces, but at times like these, I wish you were six
foot tall and of a different species."

    Showing no sign that he had understood, Curlers just stared back at his
mistress, waiting until she had dried her legs before he pounced forward
and began rubbing himself contentedly along her calf, purring softly.

    "So, I'm not the only one who's purring, hmmm?" she laughed as she moved
back into her bedroom to get dressed.  Throwing on a white blouse and blue
skirt, Pat completed her morning preparations by eating a quick breakfast
while reading the morning paper, before brushing her long, silky hair.  As
usual, she did not apply any makeup.  Not only was it unnecessary given her
ravishing beauty, if she could have marketed the natural, healthy glow of
her skin, she could have made a fortune.

    "Well, Curlers, it's time for mommy to go out into the big bright world,"
she said, as she knelt down on the floor by the front door and gathered her
pet in her arms.  "I have to go see how work is coming on the new part of
the salon, so we can get it up and running and keep you in milk and gourmet
cat food like you've become accustomed to."  As she stroked the purring
cat's fur, his little tongue rasped affectionately against Pat's hand.

    "Give mommy a kiss," Pat said, lifting the cat up where she could give him
a peck on the forehead.  "Now be a good kitty and don't make a complete
mess of things."

    Pat released Curlers and rose to her feet.  It was at that point, as Pat
opened the door to leave for the day, that her pussycat whimpered.

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