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Emily was not having the week she had imagined. The Blonde had mysteriously vanished without a trace four years previously. Sure, the police had arrested a blonde Italian woman and yes, she was discovered with a mask, catsuit, rope, and chloroform in her bag, but Emily didn't buy it. The Blonde was still out there, slipping into legend, no doubt living large off her ill-gotten gains.
Emily had once been the beat reporter responsible for covering The Blonde's crime spree. She interviewed every one of her wealthy victims, knew all her tactics. She was so hot on her trail that she had once stumbled onto a a member of Grenvelle's high society, tied spread eagle on a bed, a note from The Blonde left on her nightstand. She was shocked when she read "Close, but not close enough!" She could still smell The Blonde's distinctive perfume on the letter and make out the lipstick mark on the corner of the note.
Emily was not shocked when she was laid off from her job a few days later. She protested but her boss had had enough of her obsession with The Blonde myth. No such person existed, he had insisted, she had merely ascribed all the robberies in the city to one fanciful creation in her head. No doubt The Blonde had used her wealth and influence to silence the pesky reporter.
That had been four years ago and Emily was in a bad place. She kept up her investigation, but without press credentials, she was unable to access any crime scene or interview any victims. She regularly updated her blog but only had a few serious followers. Sure, she had a few hundred hornball followers, but they always seemed to want the wrong sorts of details. As her blog and private investigation consumed much of her time, her bills had started to pile up. She had dodged Mr. Zelensky for nearly two months but she knew that eventually, he'd come demanding rent money.
As she had thought about her financial issues, her eyes caught sight of one of The Blonde's masks. It had been a piece of evidence left mockingly next to a blindfolded, chairbound victim that Emily had snuck out of an evidence locker years before.
As soon as she touched the mask, a wild idea entered her mind. What better way to draw out The Blonde than to BECOME The Blonde? She knew all her methods, after all. Her blonde, wavy hair was almost exactly what her victims had described. If she could relieve a few rich ladies of their jewelry, she'd be able to get ahead on her bills too.
She had a latex catsuit and matching gloves from her younger, kinkier days. It wasn't the same material as The Blonde's famous spandex catsuit, but she figured no one but her would know that.
Emily felt a flush of excitement as she oiled up her naked body and slipped seamlessly into her disguise. She felt even more excited when she slipped her leather mask over her eyes in the dark alley behind her victim's apartment building. She gave the rusty fire escape she intended to climb up once or twice before gripping the lower bar, ready to start pulling herself up.
Before she could move, she was yanked from the ladder by a strong, spandex gloved hand. Another hand caught her before she could hit the ground. A chemical smelling wad of white clothe was pressed to her lips and nose. Despite the strong smell, Emily could distinctly smell a familiar perfume.....
"Wake up, bela dona," said a sing-songy, accented female voice.
Emily's vision started to clear and she saw a gorgeous blonde woman standing above her, zipping up Emily's latex catsuit. A light, summer breeze caressed her naked, tightly rope bound body. She didn't need to, but definitely did, taste her own panties to know what her elusive target had stuffed her mouth with. She knew exactly who had her in their grip. The Blonde smiled at her.
"I don't often wear latex, but I just loved the way it looked on you, Emily. I'm happy to restart my crime spree in style!"
Emily watched as The Blonde finished zipping herself up. Was she angry? Yes. Embarrassed at her situation? Absolutely. But what she felt most was relief. Even if no one else believed her, she knew without a doubt that The Blonde was real. It was a good day.