" Always a Bridesmaid" by Tirepanted

[esercito sconfitto]

tirepanted


Always A Bridesmaid




Mona took a deep breath and stared at the mirror. A beautiful young woman stared back, dressed in a white satin wedding gown with no sleeves and a long train, as well as a white veil which covered her straight, jet-black hair.

“Mona, you look beautiful!” Allison beamed.

“Thanks, Mom.” Mona smiled. “But this gown will probably set us back a fortune.”

Allison waved away her concerns. “Please! Nothing is too good for my daughter! I’ve bought out the most glamorous hotel in the city for your wedding, just to show you how happy I want you to be. Smile for the photographer!”

Mona smiled. The bulb flashed.

“I’m getting married,” Mona said to herself. “I am. I really am!”

Her mother leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Easy, sweetheart. Save the real excitement for tonight.”

“Okay… I’ll try,” Mona replied. She took another deep breath.

“Excellent,” her mother said. “Now you stay here and keep looking gorgeous. I’ve got to make a call regarding the hotel set-up.”

“You got it, Mom,” Mona replied, beaming.

After her mother had left, Mona returned her gaze to the mirror. For the first time in her life, a mature adult woman gazed back.

**************

Allison genuinely wanted to see he daughter happy on her wedding night. Thus, she had chosen the Plaza Hotel, the most luxurious establishment in New York, as the location. The hotel featured beautifully crafted rooms, including a splendid auditorium and dazzling antique pieces on display.

The one thing about the Plaza which Allison was not completely satisfied was the security level. The security staff was less concerned with protecting the guests than they were with keeping themselves legally protected. Allison had debated with herself whether or not the Plaza was indeed the most suitable place for her daughter’s celebration. She eventually decided to use their establishment, but would also take some security precautions of her own.

Once she was outside, she dialed the number of a private security firm which she often called upon for assistance in business transactions. The line rang once, before the receptionist answered, “Yes?”

“This is Elizabeth Grant,” Allison replied. “I was wondering if you have any employees available for a job tonight.”

***************

Valerie Trent sat at her desk, sorting through mounds of paperwork. She brushed a few strands of brown hair from her eyes, trying to read through the claims file on the diamond district case.

Working as a security coordinator could be stressful at times, but the fieldwork was healthy and the pay was nothing to sneeze at. Valerie took her job seriously – very seriously – and no measure was considered too extreme if it meant her getting the job done.

There came a knock at the door. Her close friend and business associate stuck her head inside, red curls bobbing. “Hey, Val. The chief has a new assignment for us. Some rich-gal wedding in Upper Manhattan. You in?”

Valerie peered over her horn-rimmed glasses. “Sorry, Amanda. I have a lot of paperwork to sift through. Why not partner with Rita? She’s received strong numbers as of late.”

“Pffft. Please,” Amanda scoffed. “Rita couldn’t find her way through a corn maze after the harvest. You’re the top dog around here!”

Valerie sighed. “Amanda, what did I say about that title?”

“Sorry… I know you hate it,” Amanda replied. “But come on! You’ve been cooped up in this musty shack of an office for over two weeks now. It’s time to stretch those lovely legs with some active work!”

Valerie considered, then put down her pen. “All right, but remember – this is a one-night operation. As soon as we’re done, I have a thirty-page paper that needs to be filed with personnel.”

“Totally,” Amanda replied with a smile.

“Good. So, what kind of job are we talking about here?”

“Hotel security. The Plaza.”

“All right. Let’s pull up some feedback reports.”

After ten minutes on Google, the women had all the information they needed.

“Good lord,” Valerie muttered. “Three break-ins in the last month. They must have one heck of an insurance policy.”

“Think our assistance could be helpful?” Amanda asked.

“At this point, anything could be helpful,” Valerie replied. “Get the keys.”

***************

Two tall, muscular female guards stood at the front doors of the Plaza Hotel, one on either side. Both women were dressed in blue button-down uniform shirts, dark blue pants, knee-high, low-heeled boots, peaked black hats, and dark glasses. The two blondes stood still with their arms folded, nodding and smiling at the occasional person who entered the hotel.

Valerie walked up to the doors and glanced at the guards. She watched as a waiter entered the hotel, while the guards paid him little to no attention.

“Excuse me,” Valerie piped up, “but shouldn’t you be checking everyone’s identification papers before they enter?”

The guard on the right smiled. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “This is just a simple wedding. There’s no need for high-maintenance security.”

Valerie frowned. “So you don’t plan to card anyone?”

“Not unless they’re really suspicious-looking,” the guard smiled. “You can go on in if you want.”

Valerie sighed. She picked up her cell phone and hit the “Call” button. “Amanda, bring the van around.”

No sooner had she hung up than a dark van with tinted windows rounded the corner and pulled up in front of the hotel.

“What’s going on?” the puzzled guard on the right asked.

Valerie closed her phone and turned to the two guards. “Ladies, there has been a change in plans. As it appears the security of this building is a bit too relaxed, my associate and I will be taking over your shifts to ensure a safer environment for all concerned.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “Taking over our shifts? We appreciate the offer, but I think we can handle things ourselves.”

“It wasn’t an offer,” Valerie stated. “We are assuming your positions – along with your identities – for the time being.”

The blonde stopped laughing. “Listen , honey. Either you and your driver friend shuffle off right now, or I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Gamble your life savings away at a casino?” Valerie shot back. “Oh, wait… You already did that three months ago. Tell me, Heather… does your husband Sean know about this?”

The blonde gasped. Her friend started to speak up. Valerie turned to her. “And how about you, Millie? Your friends think you’ve been squeaky-clean for half a year, but weren’t you smoking a rather illegal-looking cigarette behind your house last Thursday? Say, about 2 AM?”

The guard’s mouth dropped open in shock. “How… how do you know…”

“That doesn’t matter,” Valerie continues. “What does is that unless you two comply with us, other people will start to find out. Lots and lots of other people.” She slid open the van’s side door. “Come on, ladies. The quicker we do this, the quicker we get it over with.”

Submissively, the guards were herded into the van. Valerie followed behind, shutting the door after her. Amanda hit the gas, and the van roared away.

Soon, Valerie and Amanda were straightening the uniform shirts, smoothing down the pants, and adjusting the boots of the hotel’s security staff. The women sized each other up, confirming that the uniforms were indeed good fits, and would not raise anyone’s suspicions. They donned their newly appropriated hats and sunglasses.

The real guards now sat back-to-back on the musty floor in the back of the van. Both were clad only in blue exercise bras and matching panties. Thick cables secured their ankles and upper thighs, while each girl had had her own muscular arms encircled about the other’s waist, where their respective wrists were bound. More ropes went around the two women together, above and below their breasts, securing them to each other. Duct tape had been wound around their mouths, which had been filled with balled-up cloths. The guards glared angrily at their “replacements”, struggling and grunting to be set free.

“Thank you for your cooperation, ladies,” Valerie stated. “I assure you that no one will find out about your little secrets so long as you continue to behave as excellently as you are now.”

“Grrrmmmmmffffffff,” one of the guards growled angrily into her gag, struggling against her skillfully tied bonds.

“I trust you both understand this is merely a temporary change of shifts,” Valerie continued. “We’ll return your uniforms tomorrow morning, washed and ironed, after which you’re both free to resume your normal lives.”

The guards continued to moan as Valerie shut the door and locked the van, which had been parked in an alley several blocks away from the Plaza.

Soon, the two new guards took up position at the front doors of the hotel. They stood, arms folded, watching everyone who entered, and always requesting identification.

At one point, Amanda turned to Valerie and whispered, “Gosh, Val… but you’re good.”

“It’s why they pay me,” her partner replied.


“Mona, sit up straight,” Allison chided her daughter.

“Mom,” Mona said, “we’re just in a car.”

“In a limo,” her mother corrected. “Only six hours away from the most important moment of your life. It’s time to act like a lady.”

“I am a lady,” Mona insisted. “I’m twenty-two, aren’t I?”

“Then sit up straight,” her mother replied.
The limo stopped in front of the Plaza Hotel. Allison smiled. “Thank you, Janine,” she addressed the blonde female chauffer. “Prompt as always.”

Allison and Mona stepped out of the car, after which Janine drove around to the hotel’s inner parking lot. Mother and daughter then made their way toward the hotel.

“Identification, please,” one of the tall female guards stated.

Mona stared at her. “Seriously? I’m the bride-to-be!”

“Identification, please” the guard repeated.

“Now, Mona, let’s not act like we’re above the law,” Alison replied. She reached into her purse and pulled out her driver’s license. Sighing, Mona did the same.

The guard closely inspected both cards before handing them back to their owners. “You’re both clear. Enjoy the ceremony.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mona replied. She was about to walk past them when she stopped short. “You know, for such a fancy-looking hotel, you’d at least think they’d be able to give their employees proper-fitting uniforms. This guard’s shirt is clearly too big for…”

“Run along, Mona,” Allison interrupted. “I’ll be right in with you.”

Sighing, Mona stepped inside.

Allison lingered to speak to the two guards. “Good work,” she told them. “I assume you’re carding everyone?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Valerie replied.

“Good,” Allison smiled. “I trust the real guards were no trouble to dispose of?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Excellent,” Allison grinned. “Perhaps this will teach them that the customer deserves what’s best.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, carry on,” Allison said. “And remember, if anyone suspicious comes to the door, take care of them. I don’t care how, but just do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Wonderful,” Allison said before stepping through the front doors.

****************

Sandra hummed softly to herself as she buttoned up the white caterer uniform shirt. She reached for the dark red waistcoat and pulled it over her arms. She adjusted the bowtie on her collar, ensuring that it wasn’t too tight.

From behind her came a groaning noise. Sandra turned to see her friend Camille, trying irritatedly to squeeze her voluptuous figure into a similar uniform that seemed too restraining for it.

“Damn it,” Camille complained, brushing a strand of loose blonde hair from her eyes. “This uniform is too tight.” She looked at Sandra. “How come yours fits so well?”

Sandra shrugged. “Must be a one-size-fits-all model,” she said with a smile.

“Har-de-har,” Camille replied. “I’d respond to that, but my uniform is making speech rather difficult.”

“Consider yourself lucky. There are plenty of worse things that can be used to restrict a girl’s speech,” Sandra replied. “As Joanne, Louise, and Kendall will soon discover.” She smiled. “Besides, you don’t hear Tanya complaining.”

As if on cue, Tanya shuffled over. “Hey, guys? This uniform’s too loose.”

Sandra sighed. “Look, both of you… swap uniforms if you must. But hurry it up. We’re already ten minutes behind schedule.”
Camille and Tanya nodded, and hurried to comply. While they were busy trading clothes, Sandra stepped over to the large walk-in closet situated at the back of the room. She slowly opened the door and peeked inside.

Another smile spread over her ruby lips as she gazed at the occupants of the closet. Three dark-haired, large-breasted women sat on the floor against the back wall, their chins on their knees. All were dressed in nothing more than their own pink and white bras and panties. Rope had been tied around their wrists, thighs, and ankles. Cloths had been tied tightly over their mouths, which had been stuffed with cotton wadding and tissue, effectively gagging them. They were all fast asleep, breathing peacefully through their petite noses.

Sandra couldn’t help but notice how angelic all these women looked in these current positions. It was hard to believe that only thirty minutes earlier, they had been going about their normal lives, preparing food and drink to be loaded onto their company van and driven to the Plaza Hotel. It was while they were loading the entrées and hors d’oeuvres into the van that Sandra and her friends had jumped them and invited them to a long, restful slumber, supplying lots of rope to keep them out of trouble. Now the women all sat unconsciously on the floor of the storage room, divested of their uniforms and reduced to casual afterthoughts.

“Thanks, ladies,” Sandra said, eyes twinkling. “You’ve certainly ‘catered’ to our needs.” She blew the still-sleeping women a kiss and quietly closed the door.

By this point, Camille and Tanya had successfully exchanged uniforms, and while neither had received an ideal fit, both were satisfied enough that they did not complain any longer.

“So far, so good,” Sandra said, inspecting her little troop. “Now let’s pile in and make a delivery.”

She climbed into the driver’s seat of the catering company van, locking her seatbelt with a satisfying “click”. Camille and Tanya climbed into the rear of the van and made themselves comfy on large crates of food.

Sandra could feel a sense of power sure through her veins as she started the engine. They would be making a delivery, all right… but she was more intent on making a collection.

*****************

Mona stared down the aisle. The rows of seats were empty, and her groom was not yet standing alongside the Justice of the Peace at the other end of the room, waiting for her to step up and wed him. Still, she felt a twinge of nervousness on the back of her neck just standing where she was.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” a voice asked from behind her.

Mona turned and let out a cry of delight. Her best friend Deirdre stood there, dressed in a long flowing pink gown, a smile on her face.

“Congratulations, darling,” Deirdre whispered as they embraced.

“I’m so glad you’re here! After all, what’s a bride without a bridesmaid?” Mona laughed. “Oh, I’m so nervous. It feels like a nest of butterflies has rented out space in my stomach.” She paused. “Should I see a doctor?”

“You should see a doctor if you aren’t nervous,” Deirdre chuckled. “Seriously, what you’re feeling is perfectly normal. And don’t worry, everything will turn out fine.”

“Yeah,” Mona said. “I just hope I can…”

“Mona!”

Mona sighed and turned. “Yeah, Mom?”

“Say, ‘Yes, mother.’ And why are you standing out here? You’re supposed to be getting ready in the bridal quarters.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted to check this place out a bit.”

“There’ll be time for that later. Let’s go!”

Bidding Deirdre goodbye, while Deirdre bid her good luck, Mona followed her mother down the hall to the bridal room. Allison held the door open and followed her daughter inside.

“Mom!” Mona snapped. “What’s with you? I’m trying to talk to my friend, and you swoop in like a hawk!”

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Allison replied. “I’ve brought you back here because I want to show you something.”

“Can’t it wait?” Mona replied, exasperated.

“No,” Allison replied in her sternest voice.
Mona kept silent as Allison made her way to a picture frame by the far wall of the room. Allison pulled back the frame to reveal a hidden wall safe. She twirled the combination lock several times and punched in a long series of numbers on a keypad. The safe door sprang open.

“Feast your eyes on this, dear,” Allison beamed.

Mona stared into the safe and gasped. Poised within its metal confines was a large emerald necklace, glistening with some of the finest-cut jewels she’s ever seen.

“I wore this necklace at my wedding twenty-five years ago,” Allison explained. “My mother wore it at her wedding, and so did her mother.” She smiled. “It’s a family tradition. And you’re going to carry it on.”

“Wow…” Mona was taken aback. “Mom… thank you! It’s gorgeous!”

“It’s an heirloom,” her mother said.

“Awesome!” Mona reached for the necklace, only for her mother to suddenly slap her hand.

“Ow! Mom!”

“Not until the wedding,” her mother said sternly. “Not until you’re walking down the aisle. Until then, it stays safe and secure in this room, where no one can find it.”

Mona sighed, but withdrew her hand. She watched as her mother relocked the safe and replaced the picture frame.

“I’m gonna head back to the wedding hall, if you don’t mind,” Mona said.

“Not at all. I’ll join you,” Allison said pleasantly. She turned and headed for the door, swinging it open with a flourish.

Allison gasped. Just ten feet away from the door, a young maid, her back to the bride’s mother, was nonchalantly sweeping the floor.

Allison’s eyes narrowed. The maid was within earshot of the bridal room. It was entirely possible that she had heard what Allison and Mona had been discussing. It was entirely possible that she knew of the location of the necklace.

The maid turned to Allison and smiled. Allison smiled back, but her mind was racing.

‘Conniving b*tch,’ she thought. ‘I know you heard me talking. Think you can get dirty rich from my family heirlooms?’

She would need to dispose of the maid… but how?

A smile spread across her lips as she began dreaming up a rather wicked plan…





Brenda watched the small, flickering blue screens from the confines of the dark metal box. Her piercing green eyes flitted this way and that, trying to soak in every detail of the camera footage. She crossed and uncrossed her nylon-sheathed legs, the faint crackle of static electricity filling the soundless room.

Had someone told Brenda she was not dressed as sophisticatedly as a Plaza receptionist should be, she would have little means to argue. Clad in a form-fitting red dress that accentuated her dark skin, with stiletto high heels and white stockings, she was not quite the picture of professional. Cheap jewelry adorned her ears, wrists, fingers, and neck, to the point that she couldn’t walk down a hallway without jangling like a tambourine.

Still, Brenda took pride in her appearance, loud as though it may have been. She was a beautiful woman, and she knew it. Men turned their heads whenever she walked past – so what was the harm in letting them know she was coming?

As of the moment, she was inside the hotel’s security room, blithely scanning the camera footage for anything of interest. So far, nothing had been truly noteworthy – the decorators had hung up several balloons, the guards at the front door had undergone a shift change, and the band had set up their instruments in the main hall.

Brenda yawned, and checked her watch. There was still another hour before the wedding was set to begin. How could she kill time until then?

Eyeing the upper left camera, Brenda noticed a handsome young waiter bringing a table into the dining hall. She licked her lips. With her skill and expertise, it wouldn’t take much effort into seducing the man into a night of steamy, naked fun.

Unbuttoning the top button of her blouse, and thus exposing just a tantalizing hint of cleavage, Brenda stepped out of the security room, her bejeweled bling rattling with each step.

***************

The maid stepped lightly down the hall, pushing her cart as she went. The young Latina woman was dressed in a light blue button-down blouse, a matching knee-length blue skirt, a white apron with a sash tied about her trim waist, and soft-soled white shoes. Her black hair was tied in a bun at the back of her head, accentuating her lovely facial features.

As the maid parked the car by the closet, she heard a creaking noise from behind. Turning, she saw only an empty hallway. Shrugging off the sound as her imagination, she opened the closet door and stepped inside.

It was swift and sudden, too sudden for the poor maid to react. A hand clamped over her mouth, pressing a damp cloth rag over her mouth and nose. Another arm encircled her waist, confining the girl’s arms to her sides. The maid tried to struggle, only to have her assailant’s knee pressing into her back.

The maid attempted to cry out, but the cloth muffled even her loudest of screams, and each breath only served to use up what little oxygen she had even faster. Within a few moments, her struggles had begun to slow. Her thrashing movements became swimmer’s strokes, and her screams became low moans.

Allison laughed softly as the maid finally lost her grip on consciousness and sank to the floor.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, dear,” she assured the insensible woman with a smile. “No one – and I do mean no one – is going to ruin my daughter’s wedding.”

She knelt down and began unbuttoning the maid’s uniform. The blouse came off, followed by the shoes. The apron was untied and removed, and the skirt was shimmied down long legs. Soon the maid lay in only her white bra and panties, the rest of her clothing in a neat pile. After thinking for a moment longer, Allison removed her panties as well.

Allison rolled the woman onto her stomach, binding her wrists behind her back with thick nylon cord. More cord was used to bind her ankles, which were then bent backwards and secured to her wrists with another length of cord. Her own damp, crusty panties were stuffed behind her cheeks, and a roll of silver duct tape was wound around her mouth several times.

Allison hoisted the bound and gagged woman over her back. “Come on, dearie,” she grinned. “Let’s go stow you someplace where you’ll never be found.”

Soon, down in the hotel’s dingy, musty basement, Allison picked the lock to a disused storage room, which had been out of commission for eighteen years. She dragged the hogtied maid inside by the girl’s knees, and over to a metal storage locker. The locker was large enough to store a person – but just barely.

Allison crammed the maid inside the locker, hunching her back and pressing her chin onto her breasts. As she did so, the maid began to stir. Slowly, she began to recover her senses, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Mmmmppppphhhh,” she cried out. “Mmmmmmppppphhhhhh… hhhhrrrrrmmmmmpppppphhhhhh!”

“You have a gift for words, darling,” Allison laughed. “Unfortunately for you, I’m the last person who will ever hear those words.” She shut the locker door on the wide-eyed maid, and sealed it with a thick lock.

Allison shut the storage room door on her way out, and broke off the outer knob. As an afterthought, she planted a kiss on the door, leaving her ruby red lipstick in a visible outline on the wood. Then she elegantly glided back upstairs.

Soon, Allison had located a young woman off the street and asked her if she was interested in substituting for the real maid, who, she explained, had quit her job. A crisp hundred-dollar bill helped convince the impressionable blonde to take Allison up on her offer, and she had soon changed into the maid’s uniform she was given, little realizing that Allison had stolen it directly off the real maid’s back. But Allison figured that what the girl didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

Allison headed to the dining hall, ready to greet the newly-arriving guests, convinced that her last problem had been disposed of.

She was, however, quite wrong.


The plane touched down in JFK Airport. A stair-car met the doorway, and the passengers descended.

“Ah, New York!” Madame Fontessa de Lange smiled as she stepped off the plane. She spread her arms wide. “Truly, zis is a remarkable city, no?”

Her assistant, Claudette, had her arms full of suitcases, and thus could not follow Madame Fontessa’s gesture. So she simply smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Madame Fontessa stepped gingerly and elegantly off the plane. She was dressed in an elaborate fur coat over a shapely blue dress, shiny black high-heeled boots, a pink fedora over her blonde hair, and sunglasses. Claudette, meanwhile, wore a conservative grey dress and plain brown shoes.

Madame Fontessa reached into her coat and withdrew a map, which she gracefully unfolded. “Zere are so many sights to see! We must visit ze Empire State Building, und ze Met, und…”

“The wedding,” Claudette replied. “We should visit the wedding, too.”

“Ah, oui!” Madame Fontessa replied. “Allison’s daughter! Mon deiu, it has been zo long since I have zeen Allison!” She smiled. “But we need to go zight-zeeing as well! If only to brag to those othair girls in Paree!”

The two exited the airport and headed down a side street where Madam Fontessa had phoned the limo company to pick them up.

“Zis will be marvelous!” Madame Fontessa proclaimed. “So much to see, so leetle time! Where shall we head first, Claudette?”

Getting no response, she turned around. “Claudette? Where are you?”

She was alone. The side street was empty.

Fontessa began to grow nervous. “…Allo? Anybody?”

Suddenly, a pair of gloved hands grabbed her from behind, and a sickly sweet cloth was clamped over her mouth. Her eyes opened wide as she realized she was being chloroformed.

Her legs kicked out, trying to gain a footing, but her attacker lifted her high in the air, pressing the cloth wad over her mouth and nose even tighter. Her eyes flickered quickly… then slowly… then they closed.

When Fontessa awoke, it took her a moment to acknowledge her surroundings. She was lying in an alleyway – naked apart from her bra, bound with nylon rope, and gagged with duct tape. Something foul had been crammed into her mouth – it felt like her panties. Nearby, she could see as unconscious Claudette, just as naked, bound, and gagged as she was.

“Sorry about this, Madame,” said a voice that did not sound at all sorry. “But I’m afraid you won’t be doing any sightseeing this weekend.”

Fontessa looked up to see a smiling pair of women looking down at her. One was currently dressed in Claudette’s grey skirt and brown shoes. The other had already donned Fontessa’s blue dress and was in the process of putting on her fur coat.

“Mmmmmmppppppphhhhhhh!” Fontessa tried crying out, but to no avail.

“Relax, darling,” said the smiling blonde as she slid on Fontessa’s boots. “We’re simply going to take your places at the wedding, while the two of you enjoy a nice, restful slumber inside a pair of high-class sanitation barrels.”

Grinning, the other woman produced a pair of garbage bags and stepped toward the unconscious Claudette and the whimpering, wriggling Fontessa…

A few minutes later, two large, heavy garbage bags were hefted off the ground and unceremoniously dropped, one after the other, into a large garbage can. The lid clanged down on the can. Slowly, though, the receptacle began to rattle back and forth, while very faint sounds of whimpering could be heard from within.

The lid was opened, and the inside of the can was thoroughly sprayed with atomized chloroform. The lid dropped back into place. After a few moments, the can stood completely motionless.

Disguised as Madame Fontessa and Claudette, the two imposters made their way to the appointed corner, where they were promptly picked up by an unsuspecting limousine.

****************

Sandra parked the van across the street from the wedding hall, and then motioned for Camille and Tanya to follow her. Disguise as caterers, the three women made their way toward the front entrance.

As they neared the entrance, however, Sandra stopped short, causing Camille to bump into her.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re…”

“They’re carding,” Sandra said.

“What?”

Sandra pointed. A pair of waiters had just reached the front door, and the two muscular female guards had asked for identification. Only after they had carefully examined the cards did the guards allow the employees to enter.

“What do we do?” Sandra asked.

“I don’t know! I thought you said these morons never asked for ID,” Camille replied.

“They don’t! At least, I didn’t think they do,” Sandra frowned. “How do we get in now?”

Tanya spoke up. “I think I have an idea,” she said. “You know those two women who live next door to my apartment? You know, Isla and Olga?”

“The gymnasts? Yeah, what about them?”

“I think they spend every evening working out at the gym on Benson Street. Want me to give them a call?”

“Well… do you think they’ll be willing to help out?” Sandra asked.

“Sure! They might seem a little intimidating with all that muscle, but they’re really two of the nicest women I’ve ever met.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind doing a little… replacing.”

****************

Brenda sighed dejectedly and dug the toe of her shoe into the hotel floor’s rich linen carpet. She had had no luck seducing the waiter, nor his male coworkers. They were all too busy preparing for the wedding to give her a thought.

Brenda twirled a lock of jet-black hair around a pink-painted fingernail, and pondered her situation. She began to wonder if she would have better luck with one of the female waiters. Not that she could act upon the impulse – the three waitresses who were set to work that night hadn’t shown up yet.

The guests were now arriving, but most of them came in pairs. Each well-dressed man had a trophy wife or girlfriend on his shoulder, and everyone looked stunning. Brenda began to feel strangely out of place.

Perhaps she would simply head home, have a nice, long shower, and spend the night with the television. That seemed to be her usual plan, anyway.

“Ahem!” A voice snapped Brenda out of her thoughts.

Turning, she saw a gorgeous blonde woman with a stern expression standing behind her. She was dressed in a long, sequined purple gown, a mink stole, and black heels. Her wrists, fingers, ears, and neck were adorned with jewelry, although it was the genuine, expensive variety, rather than the cheap stuff Brenda wore. She held an alligator-skin purse in one hand, and a fur coat in the other.

“Well?” the blonde snapped. “Are you going to stand there and gawk, or are you going to take my coat?”

“Er… sorry,” Brenda said. “I’m just a receptionist.”

“Well, you’re ‘receiving’ my coat,” the blonde retorted. “Now make yourself useful for once in your life and go hang it up.”

Brenda was about to say something in reply to the blonde woman’s rudeness, but she caught herself at the last second. As she gazed at the blonde’s dress, a rather enticing plan entered her mind.

“Of course, miss,” she said in her most honeyed voice. “Right this way, please. I’ll take your coat and even get you something to drink.”

“About damn time,” the woman replied as she began following Brenda away from the crowd. “I’m glad someone knows how to treat a guest in this useless hotel.”

Brenda smiled inwardly. Had the blonde known what her little mind was cooking up, she would probably opt to remain untreated.


Valerie and Amanda flanked the front door of the Plaza, resplendent in their stolen security uniforms. They stood, expressionless, ensuring that every guest had proper identification.

A blonde girl in a waitress uniform hurried up to them. “Help… please help… In the alley… Some girls are being mugged…”

The guards exchanged a glance, and Valerie nodded at Amanda. The two left their posts and followed the panicking waitress toward the alley, guns drawn.

“Wait here, miss,” Valerie told the waitress as they neared the alleyway.

She and Amanda stepped into the alley. No one appeared to be there.

“What’s going on?” Valerie asked. “There’s no mugging here.”

“Oh, yes, there is!” said the now-laughing waitress.

At that moment, two lithe, well-muscled women in form-fitting leotards leaped from the shadows, directly at the two guards.
Amanda had no time to react, and was quickly knocked unconscious. Valerie, however, struggled with her assailant, trying to overcome the element of surprise with her own martial-arts training.

Just as Valerie had her attacker pinned against the wall, however, she felt a sharp, jabbing pain in her backside. Turning, she noticed the other leotard-clad woman, grinning wickedly as she pressed a syringe between Valerie’s shoulder blades.

Valerie tried to lunge at her foe, but it was too late. Slowly, her world began to grow dark. The last conscious thought she mustered was about how much paperwork she still needed to file.

Stripping the two guards to their underwear was a simple task, and Isla and Olga were soon buttoning up their uniforms. The two women didn’t speak much English, but they had understood when Tanya had waved a wad of cash under their noses.

The women had spent some time in the Marines before moving to America full-time, and they thus were quite skilled with knots. The replaced women’s wrists were tightly bound behind their backs, and their ankles were crossed and bound as well. A couple of stifling cleave-gags later, the ex-guards were unceremoniously dropped into a large dumpster, which was promptly shut.

The new guards took up position outside the front doors of the Plaza, and after pretending to check the IDs that Sandra, Camille, and Tanya were carrying, they allowed the “waitresses” into the hotel.

*****************

“Mona!”

Mona sighed as she heard her mother’s all-too-familiar voice.

“Yes, mother?”

“Let’s get you to the makeup room. The guests are now arriving, and I want them to see how absolutely gorgeous you truly are.”

“I feel pretty gorgeous already,” Mona replied.

Allison stroked her daughter’s cheek. “Of course you do, honey,” she said. “And you have every right to be. But when you step out into the open forty-one minutes from now, I want the people in this audience to truly see every last bit of your natural beauty.”

“But… won’t makeup cover up my… ‘natural’ beauty?”

Allison’s face turned angry. “Stop arguing with me, dear. I want your wedding to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. Is that too much for a mother to ask?!”

Mona was silent. “…No.”

Allison immediately brightened. “Excellent,” she said. “Your beautician and hairstylist are waiting in the makeup room. Let’s make haste, shall we?”

Mona followed her mother. Somehow, she was beginning to feel more butterflies in her stomach than ever.

***************

“Are we there yet?” the blonde snapped.
“Almost, miss,” Brenda replied. “Your coat’s been checked, so now it’s just a walk over to the bar.”

“This seems like a long walk to get to a bar,” the blonde replied. “There’s no one else around here. You sure you haven’t gotten lost, little girl?”

Inwardly, Brenda frowned, but she kept a pleasant facial expression. This woman would come to regret her discourteous manner shortly.

She turned to the right and opened a door. “Here you go,” she said. “Just step right inside.”

The blonde stepped through the doorway. “It’s dark in here,” she said. “And I don’t see any bar, either.”

“Hmm, you’re right,” Brenda said. “Perhaps they’ve changed places to another room. And while we’re on the subject of changing places…” She shut the door behind her.
The blonde turned. “What are you doing? Let me out of… mmmmmppppphhhhh!”

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Brenda smiled as she clamped a viselike hand over the woman’s mouth. “Don’t struggle and you won’t get hurt… much. Now what say we unzip that lovely gown of yours…”

The woman bit into Brenda’s hand as hard as she could.

Brenda merely laughed. “Sorry, hon. I’ve got pretty tough skin. Descended from the Congolese tribal warriors, you know.”

She whirled the woman around and dealt a paralyzing blow to the base of her neck. The blonde quivered for an instant, then sank to the floor.

Brenda flipped her long hair back and flashed a set of pearly white teeth at her unconscious prey. “Just rest easy, doll,” she said. “This will be quick… though unfortunately for you, not painless.”

Brenda worked quickly, her dexterous fingers skillfully removing the heels and gown from its owner. Soon, she had changed out of her own clothing and jewelry into the more appealing attire of the blonde.

A wonderful fit, she noted satisfactorily, smoothing out the gown. The heels were less perfect, but they would suffice.

Brenda especially admired her new jewelry – the bracelets, rings, earrings, and necklace were all beautifully carved, and made her look even prettier than she could have imagined.

“I gotta say,” she told the unconscious blonde. “For a snotty and stuck-up b*tch, you do have some excellent taste.”

The blonde simply lay sprawled on the floor, clad only in her own white bra and panties. Her well-curved legs jutted out at an awkward angle. One arm was sprawled on the floor, while the other lay atop her gently rising and falling chest. Brenda looked at her with a mild sense of amazement – even unconscious, she looked stunning.

“I so wish I could stay and have some fun,” Brenda said. “But it would be unsporting to take advantage of you in your current state. So, I’ll just get you out of sight for the time being.”

A quick search of the stockroom unveiled a length of extension cords, thin enough to be pliable, while thick enough that raw human strength could not break it. There were also some moldy washrags and a roll of electrical tape on one of the lower shelves.

Brenda had spent a great deal of time with the Girl Scouts when she was young, and had even earned a badge as “Champion In Knot-Tying”. She had never tested her knots out on a person before, but decided this opportunity was as good as any.

Brenda crossed the woman’s arms behind her back, then bent her legs so the heels of her feet rested against her own panty-clad ass. She bound the woman’s left wrist to her right ankle, then tied her right wrist to her left ankle. The result was a woman hogtied with only two knots – a time-saving and efficient practice.

Brenda forced open the blonde’s petite mouth, and shoved one of the washrags inside. She pushed in to the back of her mouth and tucked it behind the woman’s perfect white teeth. Then she wound a length of electrical tape around the woman’s lower face, covering her mouth and entrapping her hair in the process.

Grabbing the woman by her knees, Brenda dragged her over to the large supply closet. After setting the woman on the floor of the closet, Brenda maneuvered some boxes to conceal the woman and ensure that it would be some time before she was found. Brenda wedged the door shut and locked it.

A quick search through the alligator-skin purse revealed a small tube of lipstick. Brenda twisted the bottom, and a crayon of ruby red emerged. Brenda glided it over her lower lip, then puckered.

After checking her hair and makeup in a small hand mirror, Brenda exited the storeroom with an air of beauty and confidence. It was time to join the party.


Mona leaned back in her chair and sighed. She was beginning to have doubts about the wedding. Given that the ceremony was beginning shortly, however, now was probably not the best time for worries.

But she couldn’t help it. Her mother was worrying her, with her constant pushing and prodding and declarations that “Everything must be perfect!” Mona was concerned that her mother was more concerned about the wedding than about her daughter’s well-being.

She swiveled slightly in her make-up chair, despite the fact that her mother had told her it was not ladylike to swivel.

“Like heck it isn’t” she muttered.

“Good evening!” A smiling blonde entered the room. She was followed by an equally smiling redhead. Both women were dressed in pink short-sleeve blouses and matching knee-length skirts with white piping, as well as white lace shoes. “I’m Pauline, your hairstylist. Your manicurist here is Bianca. Are you ready to look pretty?”

“I feel pretty,” Mona replied.

“Excellent! That should make our job fairly easy,” Pauline grinned. “Bianca, be a dear and fetch the perfume from the nearby supply room, would you?”

Bianca nodded and exited the makeup room. Pauline clapped her hands together, her long pink-painted fingernails clicking against one another. “So, what’ll it be? Hair up? Down? Perhaps a Princess Leia bun?”

“A… what?”

“A Princess Leia bun. You know, like from the Star Wars movies.” The hairstylist whipped out a comb and brush, and began swiftly working at Mona’s straight black hair. Within minutes, Mona’s hair had transformed into the sort that Carrie Fisher had sported in the original “Star Wars” film.

“It’s… cute,” Mona admitted. “But I’m not sure it’s a suitable wedding style.”

“Well, don’t fret,” Pauline replied. “We have time to test out a whole assortment of different styles.” She glanced at the door. “Funny… I’d have expected Bianca back by now. Maybe I oughta go check if she’s not chatting up one of those helpless bellboys.”

With a smile, she left the room.

The closet door was slightly ajar. Pauline approached cautiously, and stepped inside.

“Bi? You here, honey?” she called out, groping for the light switch.

It happened fast, with barely enough time to register. A gloved hand shot out of the darkness and firmly pressed a sweet-smelling white cloth over Pauline’s mouth. Pauline’s eyes flickered with shock. Her long pink-painted fingernails flailed about as she tried to cry out for help. Unfortunately for her, all her cries were muffled beyond recognition.

Pauline began to feel dizzy. Her eyes glazed over, and her struggles eased. Thirty seconds later, it was all over.

Pauline’s attacker dragged her to the back of the storeroom, behind the wooden row of shelves. There, Bianca lay on the dusty floor, stripped to her blue plunge bra and matching Brazilian panties. She was currently in the process of being bound with thick cables by another woman, who had already donned Bianca’s blouse, skirt, and shoes.

Quickly and skillfully, Pauline’s mugger began to unbutton the poor woman’s uniform blouse. She pulled it open, revealing an elasticized white bra that struggled to contain its two inhabitants. She yanked off the woman’s shoes and pulled down her skirt, revealing shapely tanned thighs beneath a pair of satin white panties.

It took little time for the smiling woman to don her victim’s uniform. The shoes pinched terribly, but she had long ago learned to ignore any physical pain. The blouse and skirt were fine fits, accentuating her curves just as well as they did Pauline’s. Once the last button had been done up, the woman set to work on securing the unconscious Pauline. Nylon rope, duct tape, and soiled cotton panties all played a part in ensuring the girl would stay secured and silenced.

Both Pauline and the similarly bound-and gagged Bianca were dragged to the back of the storage closet. Bianca’s head was laid upon Pauline’s impressive breasts, and the two females were covered with a large tarp.

Mona sat back in her chair, staring at her reflection in the mirror. A girl with Princess Leia hair and smudged makeup stared back. No longer did she look like the mature adult woman she had seen herself as earlier that day.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel much like getting married.

The sound of rubber-soled shoes squeaking on ceramic tiles told her that her two beauticians were returning. Mona tried to sit up straight, but her body didn’t seem interested.

“Could we make this quick?” she asked without turning around.

“Of course,” came an unfamiliar voice from behind.

Mona never saw the white cloth coming. Her last conscious thought revolved around what her mother would think of this...

“Bind and gag her,” the blonde barked at her brunette accomplice once Mona was dozing peacefully. “Then stuff her into a crate. We can smuggle her out the back door. Let’s go!”

***************

“Waitress! Another round!”

Sandra turned toward the voice, that of a gruff bearded man at Table 8. He held out his glass impatiently.

“Just a moment, sir,” Sandra replied. She headed back toward the kitchen to stock up on bottles and glassware.

Sandra was already beginning to grow impatient. The ceremony was only twenty minutes away, but the pre-wedding reception was starting to exhaust her. She wanted to slip away and search for the necklace, but had so far failed to garner an opportunity.

The bride’s family necklace was valuable, and Sandra knew it. She also knew that the bejeweled heirloom was treasured by the bride’s mother – if anything happened to it, Allison would go crazy. Sandra smiled at the mere thought.

She could see Tanya walking about on the other side of the room, tray in hand, perfectly blending in with the rest of the waitstaff. Camille was nowhere to be seen. Sandra guessed she had stepped outside for a smoking break.

Lost in thought, Sandra was snapped back to reality as she nearly bumped into a tall dark-skinned woman in a purple dress and mink stole.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Sandra quickly apologized.

The woman flashed her a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No, I’m just a bit over-tired,” Sandra responded as she ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. “Hey… I like your dress. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh… it’s a rental,” the other woman replied. “Would you excuse me…?”

[esercito sconfitto]

Brenda stepped away from the waitress and continued her slow and elegant walk through the dining hall. She was beginning to grow restless. Her newly acquired dress had gotten some attention, all right, but only from seedy, older men. Brenda had yet to seduce any of the younger single men, partly, she assumed, because her voluptuous figure was making them nervous.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, darling,” she said under her breath. No, Brenda was simply looking for excitement – the thrill of adventure. At this point, anything would do.

Brenda felt the sudden need to use the Ladies’ Room. The need for excitement was becoming too much for her to contain.

****************

Allison knocked lightly on the door to the make-up room.

“Bianca?” she called. “Pauline? You two finished in there?”

Getting no response, she opened the door.

“Hello?” The room was empty.

Puzzled, Allison glanced about. Her eyes finally fell on the perfume table, which had been cleared at the center. Lying there, unopened, was a red envelope.

A lump began to form in Allison’s throat. She reached for the envelope and tore it open. Her green eyes flashed angrily as she read the paper inside.

Throwing the paper on the floor, Allison stormed out of the room, not even bothering to shut the door behind her. She picked up her cell phone and quickly dialed as she headed back down the private hallway. She stepped into the restroom for some privacy.

Two stalls were occupied, but Allison was too enraged to notice. When her chauffeur answered the phone, she spoke quickly and tartly. “Janine, get the car ready. I need to get to Midtown, right now. My most precious jewel has just been stolen.”

After confirming an address, she nodded. “Yes, yes. I’ll be down in ten minutes.” She quickly hung up the phone and exited the Ladies’ Room.

One of the stall doors opened. Brenda peeked out. A stolen jewel? Could this be the adventure she was hungering for?

It could be a false alarm, she knew. But she was willing to take that chance. Anything to shake the wave of boredom that was currently washing over her. She stepped out of the stall, quickly washed her hands, and headed out of the restroom.

Moments after the restroom door closed, another stall door opened. Camille peeked out. Allison’s most precious jewel had just been stolen? But… it was far too soon for Sandra or Tanya to have had the opportunity to take it, let alone have it be discovered. Could someone else have stolen the necklace?

****************

Janine stood silently by the sleek black limousine, her pert rear resting on the hood. She stood there, arms folded, resplendent in her uniform – black jacket over white button-down shirt and black tie, black knee-length skirt, dark leg-hugging tights, and thigh-high, polished black low-heel boots. A peaked black cap was fitted over her long blonde hair, and dark sunglasses adorned her eyes.

She stood, waiting for her boss to arrive at the underground parking lot, casually scanning the parking parameters that had been printed on a billboard on a nearby wall.

“Psst!”

Janine turned suddenly to the sound, and saw a woman in a purple dress beckoning to her from the door leading to the stairwell.

“Hey,” the woman called. “Can I borrow your phone a minute? I kind of need to tell my husband I’ll be out late.”

Janine smiled. “Of course.” She reached into her jacket and pulled out her sleek iPhone. Heels clicking on the pavement, she walked toward the stairwell door and held out the phone.

“Here you g—HEY!!!” Janine was suddenly shocked as the woman grabbed her outstretched arm and pulled her through the doorway. The door clicked shut behind her.

Five minutes later, the elevator doors pinged open, and Allison stepped out. She immediately spotted her limo, humming and ready near the exit.

Allison hastily opened the back door of the limo and clambered inside. “Drive,” she snapped. She sat back, agitated, and began searching through some files on her phone. So agitated was Allison, in fact, that she did not notice her chauffeur was no longer a white blonde girl, but a dark-haired black woman – albeit one who was wearing the exact same set of clothing.

Brenda wondered if she wasn’t putting her own life in danger by taking part in this self-styled adventure. But she couldn’t turn back now. She settled back in her seat, letting her newly obtained uniform settle comfortably onto her body. Then, lowering the visor of her peaked cap over her forehead, she began to drive.




Valerie kicked herself. Well, she would, if she were capable of moving her legs. But they were bound at the ankles, and rather tightly, too. Her wrists were also tightly bound behind her back, preventing her from smacking herself in the face. She couldn’t curse herself either, as her mouth was gagged shut with a mercilessly tight cleave-gag.

Still, Valerie was angry with herself, and she knew it. What had begun as a simple night job had turned into a nightmare. How could she have fallen for such an old trick? She grimaced, wishing she could get her hands on her captors.

However, Valerie did not stay angry with herself for long. True, she had slipped up, and was paying for it, but it was time for action.

She was lying in a rather smelly dumpster, wearing only her white bra and panties, tied and gagged alongside her still-unconscious partner Amanda, who was in a similar state of appearance. Valerie tried to nudge her partner awake, but it was no use – Amanda had been knocked cold.

Should have taken those anti-sedative pills I always warn you about, girl, Valerie thought.

Setting her mind to the task at hand, Valerie began flexing and contracting her muscles, trying to gather some slack in the ropes. Her toned musclewoman’s physique had spent many hours of practice trying to untangle itself from bindings, and now it was finally paying off.

After six consecutive minutes of flexing, twisting, and contorting her body in the most skillful of manners, Valerie was rewarded by the satisfying sound of ropes snapping against her wrists. She pulled with all her might, and her wrist-bindings broke in half.

Valerie lay exhausted for a couple of minutes, catching her breath and letting her strength melt back into useful energy. She loosened the gag from her mouth and lifted the lid of the dumpster, propping it open with a crushed soda can. She took generous gulps of fresh air, revitalizing her lungs and clearing her head. Once she was fit and well-rested, she took to untying her feet.

Two powerful arms lifted the dumpster lid upwards, and a pair of lithe, muscular legs touched ground. Valerie was free. She was strong. But… she smelled awful.

Much as she wanted to immediately go after her attackers, Valerie acknowledged that she would need to rid herself of her conspicuous scent first. Besides, she couldn’t very well step out in public dressed as scantily as she was. Her eyes travelled up the wall of the apartment building which formed the left half of the alleyway and settled on an open window on the second floor.

It was an easy task to use the lip of the garbage dump as a jumping point, and her fingers grabbed the lower sill of the window. She pulled herself up and into the apartment, somersaulting through the window.

Valerie looked up and about. The apartment seemed empty at the moment, which suited her just fine. She scanned the area. On the wall were two framed certificates, crediting the oral hygienic skills of Dr. Shauna Stevens.

The apartment belonged to a dentist, likely single and living alone. Valerie tried to remember where she had heard of Dr. Stevens before. Her memory travelled back over the countless Internet documents and reports she had memorized over the years, until she finally settled on it.

Smiling to herself, Valerie stripped off her underwear and headed into the apartment’s bathroom. There was time enough for a quick shower before the apartment’s owner would come home… and Valerie would be waiting when she did.

*****************

Sandra mopped the sweat from her brow. She was growing restless. Had she known how much time she would have spent serving tables, she would never have disguised herself as a waitress. Perhaps she should have mugged one of the bridesmaids instead…

Tonya approached her, brandishing a tray. “Hey, Sand. Any luck scouting the place?”
Sandra shook her head. “Where’s Camille? I haven’t seen her since we served the entrees.”

Tonya shrugged. “Maybe she managed to slip away and search for the necklace.”
Sandra sighed. “Well, good for her. I’m bored out of my mind here, waiting for something to happen.”

“Yeah… Say, shouldn’t the wedding have started by now? Where’s the bride’s mother?”

Sandra shrugged. “I don’t know. For that matter, where’s the bride?”
Both women exchanged a glance.

At that moment, the door to the wedding hall opened, and two uniformed policewomen marched in – one a tall brunette, the other a short and slightly tubby blonde. The manager raced over and began conversing with them.

Sandra and Tonya watched with great interest as the manager led the policewomen into their own private office, telling them they would have sufficient silence to do their work.

Tonya turned to Sandra. “What kind of work do you think they’re doing?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sandra replied as a wicked smile spread across her face. “But I think we’d best… remove them from the picture, before they see fit to investigate us…”

****************

Camille had spent some time mulling over what she had overheard. It was possible that the necklace she and her friends were after had been stolen… but she needed to make sure for herself.

It was now that she had slipped her way into the private sector of the hotel, where the bridal quarters were located. There were several rooms in this area, and any number of them could house the necklace.

Suddenly, Camille heard footsteps behind her. She quickly dove into a nearby closet.
A maid happened along – blonde, busty, and beautiful. She was busy texting on her cell phone – so engrossed, in fact, that she did not notice the closet door slowly swing open behind her… until she was roughly pulled inside.

Frightened, the maid tried struggling, but her assailant kept her in a viselike grip. “Easy, honey,” Camille whispered. “Don’t resist, and you won’t get hurt.”

The maid stopped struggling, although her eyes continued to reflect fear.

“You must get around a lot,” Camille said, keeping one hand firmly pressed over the girl’s mouth. “Clean lots of rooms and all… You wouldn’t have happened to stumble across anything valuable during the course of your cleaning… say, a necklace, perhaps?”

The maid shook her head.

Camille tightened her grip on the woman. “Don’t play games with me, dear. Do you or do you not know where the bride’s necklace is?”

The maid shook her head frantically. Tears began streaming down her cheeks.

Camille frowned. This woman was too scared to lie, yet her answer still didn’t seem likely. Any maid worth her mop and bucket would have heard something about the necklace.

“Are you new to this job, honey?” she asked.
The maid nodded.

Camille thought for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I’ve got good news for you, sweetheart. You get to take a working break tonight. Unfortunately… you may not spend it comfortably.”

The maid’s eyes widened in horror as the smiling Camille held up a coil of nylon rope.
Soon, the tearful maid lay on the floor in her white bra and pink panties, bound with rope and gagged with duct tape. Her trim figure struggled against her bonds, but they had been expertly tied.

Having dressed herself in the maid’s uniform, Camille walked over to the back of the closet, where she had stowed the unfortunate woman. “Easy, darling. Struggling only makes it hurt even more. I’d advise you to try and relax, since this closet is going to be your home for quite a while.”

The maid began crying softly. Camille knelt down and stroked her cheek. “Be brave, dear… Someone will find you eventually… That is, after I’m long gone.”

Standing up and checking the seams of her new skirt, Camille eyed her disguise with satisfaction. It would be far easier to search for the necklace dressed as an inconspicuous-looking maid.

Blowing one last kiss to the softly whimpering maid, Camille exited the closet and locked the door, leaving her unfortunate victim plenty of opportunity to get to know her bonds.



Shauna breathed deeply as she walked down the hall. The young woman was dressed in a dark blue button-down blouse, black jacket, tan Capri pants, and black leather riding boots. She checked her wristwatch, noting that it had been eleven hours since she had left for work that morning. She was exhausted.

Shauna turned the key and pushed her apartment door open. It had been a busy day at work, as she had filled in over a dozen cavities and pulled quite a few teeth. Thankfully, that was over with, and she was looking forward to a relaxing shower before curling up with a hot cup of coffee.

As Shauna stepped into her apartment, a frown creased her face. There, lying on the ground, was a pair of bra and panties… and they didn’t look like hers.

Gingerly, she stepped over to the discarded underwear and picked up the panties with two fingers. She wrinkled her nose. They smelled awful.

Just as Shauna began to wonder whose panties she was holding at arm’s length, a voice from behind startled her. “Good evening, Dr. Stevens.”

Shauna whirled. A woman sat on her couch – brown-haired, beautiful… and dressed in her bathrobe.

Shauna’s mouth dropped open. She prepared to scream.

“I’d advise you to keep silent,” Valerie said tersely.

Shauna reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone. She quickly began dialing the police.

“Calm yourself, Dr. Stevens,” Valerie said. “Or should I call you Theresa Spalding?”

Shauna’s mouth fell open. She dropped her phone, which hit the floor.

“How… how do you know my real name?”

“You mean how do I know you changed your name ten years ago so that your ex-boyfriend would stop stalking you?” Valerie continued. “Trust me, I have my ways.” She stood up. “But you’re guaranteed my silence, Theresa,” she continued, “as long as you give me your full cooperation… and your clothes.”

“Wh-what?” Shauna simply stood in shock.

“Your clothes,” Valerie repeated. “As you can see, I’m in a rather poor state of dress. I need your clothes so that I can once again walk amongst society.”

Shauna paused, then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. My closet is down the hall. Feel free to take anything you like…”

Valerie shook her head. “Apologies, Theresa,” she said. “But I need the clothes you’re wearing right now.”

Shauna’s jaw dropped. “But… why? You can’t…”

“I can,” Valerie replied. “I’m going to have to blend in with the ordinary crowd for a while. The best way to do that is with clothes that have been worn for a while… and aren’t particularly noticeable. Namely yours, honey.”

Shauna swallowed hard. “But… but…”

“Do hurry, please,” Valerie continued. “I’m a bit pressed for time.”

Shauna opened and closed her mouth. She wanted to protest further, but realized it was futile. Resignedly hanging her head, she removed her jacket, dropped it on the floor, and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Hang your clothing on that chair,” Valerie said as Shauna opened her blouse to reveal a full white plunge bra. “I don’t want to step outside looking like a came out of a dumpster.” She smiled inwardly. “And that jacket needs to be clean and unwrinkled as well.”

Scowling, Shauna picked up her jacket, dusted it off, and draped it over the back of the nearby chair. She hung her blouse on top of it. With some difficulty, she pulled off her black leather boots. Then, gripping the waistband of her Capri pants with both hands, she shimmied out of the garment, hanging it on the chair arm.

Shauna now stood resplendent in her white plunge bra and matching panties beneath nude-colored hold-up tights. She looked up at Valerie, thinking herself finished with her task.

To her dismay, Valerie merely shook her head. “Keep going, dear,” she said with a slight smile. “I need a full wardrobe change, as you can tell.”

Sighing, Shauna wriggled her way out of her tights, tossing them onto the chair. She then reached behind her back and grasped her bra strap. She hesitated.

Valerie nodded. “Come on, honey. You’re almost there.”

Shauna unhooked the strap and removed the bra, letting her sizable breasts wobble unrestrained. The last article to go was the pair of white cotton panties. These joined the rest of the clothing on the wooden chair. Shauna now wore nothing but a pair of cheap, gold-studded earrings.

“Like what you see?” she snapped at Valerie.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Valerie said plainly. “The difficult part’s over. Now all that’s left to do is restrain you. Turn around and cross your hands behind your back, please.”

Shauna muttered something under her breath, but she turned her back to Valerie, crossing her wrists just above the two generous globes of her ass.

Using some cable she had acquired from Shauna’s stockroom, Valerie bound the poor woman’s hands behind her back. She then tightly bound her ankles, knees, and upper thighs. Shauna winced, but said nothing.

“Excellent, my dear. You’re doing excellent.” Valerie smiled as she picked up her own foul-smelling, discarded panties from the floor.

“Wh-what are you doing with those?” Shauna asked nervously.

“Well, you have to be silenced, so…”

“No… please… no, you can’t… please, I swear I won’t make a sound… I won’t mmmmaaammmmpppphhhhhh…..”

Valerie found some duct tape to smooth over Shauna’s rosy cheeks, which now bulged with a sound-deadening amount of white cotton panty. She smiled at the girl. “How does that feel?”

“Biiiiiimmmmmppppphhhhhhh….. fffffmmmmfffffiiinnnnn…. biiiimmmmmmmpppphhhhhh…..”

“Now, now,” Valerie said. “We’re nearly done… Just one more thing…” Her gaze fell upon Shauna’s discarded tights. “It’s not a cold night… I reckon I won’t need extra leg warmth… But I can think of another use for them…”

Testing the firmness of the tights, Valerie was pleased to discover that they were quite elastic. She took both in hand and advanced on the fearful Shauna.

One of the tights was pulled over Shauna’s head, below her waist, and down to her knees. The other was pulled over her bound feet, up her legs, right up to her breasts.
Valerie stood back and admired her handiwork. The figure lying on the floor before her was female in shape, but betrayed no discernible features. She was encased from head to toe in nylon stocking, and even minor movements seemed impossible for her.

Valerie dragged the thoroughly restrained woman into the bedroom and rolled her beneath the bed. “Rest easy, princess,” she whispered. “I envy you, actually – I won’t be sleeping for a while yet.”

A muffled moan was the only response she received, so Valerie slipped out of the bathrobe and left the bedroom, her glistening naked body now dried from her earlier shower.

Valerie quickly slithered into Shauna’s underwear, clothing, and boots, admiring how well they all fit. After checking her hair and makeup in the front hall mirror, she exited the apartment, letting the door lock automatically behind her.







The ink blackness of the night made for good cover. However, any bright flashes of light would naturally betray this cover. It was thus that Allison had asked her driver to park a few blocks away from the museum in question, as the light from the limo’s headlights would naturally cause them to be noticed – to say nothing of the limo itself.

Allison had told her driver to wait in the limo and keep the engine running. The driver nodded, but did not say a word. Allison was too preoccupied to notice.

The Museum of Natural History was closed at this time of night, and security guards flanked the premises from all sides. Allison had hoped to find a female guard and “borrow” her uniform for infiltration purposes. But as she scouted the area, she was disappointed to see that there were no female guards on the museum grounds.

“Damn it,” she muttered, and turned despondently to go. As she turned down a side street, however, she heard a car door slam.

Looking up, Allison saw a tall blond woman in a gray pantsuit and high heels standing outside a sleek silver Ferrari, talking on her cell phone. “What do you mean the stocks are down? I only bought them yesterday! You tell that secretary of mine to get her figures in order, or that stupid b*tch will be spending the better part of tomorrow removing my shoe from her ass!”

The woman was about Allison’s size, if a bit thinner. Still, she appeared to be wearing a “Museum Accession Card” around her neck, which was exactly what Allison needed. Allison reached into her purse and extracted a thick cotton pad and a small bottle of chloroform.

“And you talk to my stockbroker, too! You tell her that if she wants to even dream about feeding her family again, she will start giving me better recommendations!” The woman was so busy barking into the phone that she did not notice the smiling female form quietly approaching her from behind.

“Yes, you heard me! Now get back to work!” the blonde yelled, before hanging up the phone.

She turned just in time to have the chloroform pad pressed over her face.

“What the ffffffuuuuuuuuummmmmmmppppphhhhhh!”

The woman never had a chance. She struggled in Allison’s viselike grip, but her efforts only served to weaken her more quickly and fill her lungs with more chloroform-saturated air.

After thirty seconds, her struggles began to slow. Thirty more seconds and they had stopped altogether. Allison kept the pad clamped over her nose and mouth a little while longer before grabbing the unconscious woman’s keys, unlocking the Ferrari’s back door, and dragging her inside.

Twenty minutes later, Allison emerged from the Ferrari, dressed in the woman’s business suit and high heels, and brandishing the accession card.

The real, unconscious businesswoman had been stowed beneath the back seat of the Ferrari, dressed only in a decorative white set of bra and panties. She had been hogtied with strips cut from Allison’s dress and gagged with Allison’s panties and duct tape.

It had been an expensive dress, but Allison didn’t much care. Right now, the only thing that mattered was finding her daughter.

Assured that the woman would not cause any trouble, Allison locked the door and walked confidently towards the museum entrance.

*******************

The two policewomen sat at a large desk in the backroom office of the Plaza Hotel, going through security photographs. They were hard at work, busily scanning the pictures for any trace of what could have happened to the bride or her mother.

Both were identically dressed in blue uniform shirts, tan pants, black leather boots, and peaked caps. Both also carried guns and tasers, ensuring that they were not women to be messed with.

A soft knock came at the door. The taller, blonder policewoman rose up to answer it leaving her lanky redheaded partner to continue perusing the security footage. With a gait that hinted at an athletic background, the blonde stepped toward the door, and swung it open impatiently.

“I said we were not to be disturbed!” she said to the two uniformed waitresses who now stood smiling in the doorway.

Sandra held up a silver tray with two tall cups of ginger ale resting on it. “We’re not here to disturb,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “These drinks are compliments of the Plaza, as a token of appreciation for all the wonderful work you law enforcers do for our city.”

The blonde hesitated, but her redheaded friend grinned. “Awesome! Bring ‘em in!”
Obligingly, Sandra and Tanya entered the room and set the tray on the desk. The redheaded officer took one of the glasses, and, with a bit of cajoling, convinced her friend to take the other. The two policewomen downed the complimentary drinks.

The redhead turned to her blonde companion. “You know, Bonnie, this is really a wonderful hotel. The two of us should rent a room here sometime… Maybe go skinny dipping in the Jacuzzi...”

“Mmmm,” the blonde smiled. Then her hand went to her forehead. “Funny, I… I don’t feel too well… A bit drowsy, actually…”

The redhead yawned.

Sandra smiled. “G’nite, officers.”

The two women were asleep before they could even realize the fact that they had been drugged.

Hurriedly, Sandra knelt down and began removing the boots from the feet of the unconscious blonde policewoman, while Tanya raced over to her slumbering redheaded partner and began undoing the buttons of her uniform blouse.

“Remind me again why we’re stealing their clothes?” Tanya inquired.

“Plain logic, Tan,” Sandra replied. “It’ll be much easier to get around while dressed as policewomen.”

Tanya laughed. “True,” she said, as she opened the redhead’s blouse to reveal a white plunge bra. “So, we’re gonna search for the necklace dressed like these gals?”
“Not exactly,” Sandra said, and she outlined her plan.

Once the two policewomen had been stripped to their respective pink and white underwear, they were bound with flex and gagged with tape that had been found in one of the desk drawers, and safely hidden in a small, cramped closet in the back of the room. The girls were secured facing each other, their breasts pressing against one another’s, their legs intertwined.

“What a lovely couple,” Tanya laughed as she closed the door. She and Sandra set about discarding their waitress uniforms and pulled on the shirts, pants, boots, and caps of their new identity donors.

“Not a bad fit,” Sandra said. “Now come on… Let’s head out the side door.”

Down a flight of steps they went, headed for the parking lot and the police car which sat waiting… loaded with information they could put to good use.

As they reached the foot of the stairs, Sandra stopped, causing Tanya to nearly bump into her.

“Do you hear something?” she whispered.

Both girls listened. A persistent banging noise, coming from nearby. Perhaps from under the stairwell…

“There!” Tanya exclaimed, pointing to a small storage closet situated beneath the basement stairs.

Both women approached cautiously, with Tanya’s hand resting on the gun holstered to her hip.

The two women stood on either side of the door. Sandra held up three fingers… two… one…

She flung the door open and stared inside.
A gasp escaped her lips. On the floor of the closet lay a blonde woman, clad only in a blue bra and pink panties. She was hogtied with cable flex, gagged with electrical tape, and blindfolded with a dirty washcloth. The woman was sobbing uncontrollably, reeling back and forth as she attempted to free herself from her mercilessly tight bonds.

Tanya turned to Sandra. “You know,” she said, “this night just gets more and more interesting.”


Brenda drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as she settled back into the plush leather seat. The chauffer’s uniform, which had initially felt tight against her toned physique, had now grown more comfortable, almost as though it had been tailored for her.

Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled. Brenda shivered, wondering what was taking Allison so long. She checked her watch. Thirty minutes had gone by, and there was no sign of her employer.

“Her” employer. Brenda couldn’t help smiling at the phrase. She was beginning to enjoy the role she was playing, acting the chauffer of a rich and famous heiress. Her mind began to spin with thoughts of adventure… her adventure. After all, she was the heroine of her own story.

Brenda felt something bulge in her breast pocket. She reached in and withdrew a small black tapeless recorder. It was one of those “reminder” recorders – the type used to list shopping items and other accessories when a pen wasn’t handy. Brenda guessed that it belonged to Allison’s real chauffer – and given that she had replaced the real chauffer, it seemed only logical that the tape recorder now belonged to her!

Brenda’s lips played into a smile as an idea flickered into her brain. She was, after all, an adventurer… so it seemed only logical to record her exploits! Lifting the small device to her chin, she pressed the “Record” button.

“Brenda’s Journal, Entry Number 0001,” she said with a smile. “It’s a dark, eerie night. Brenda, the valiant, courageous adventure girl, sits alone in a parked limo at the corner of 76th and Columbus, scanning the area for any signs of danger. Once a small-time secretary, Brenda has become swept up into the world of undercover espionage. No task is too daring for this brave and beautiful young woman… particularly when cute guys are involved.”

The sound of approaching footfalls interrupted her thoughts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Allison, dressed in a smart business suit, heading towards the limo, one hand clutching what appeared to be a small gold necklace.

Brenda shut off the recorder and hastily stuffed it back inside her jacket. She gunned the engine as Allison stepped into the back seat.

“Did you see anyone watching the limo while I was gone?” Allison asked.

“No, ma’am,” Brenda replied, before she could stop herself.

Allison frowned. She stared between the partition which separated the front seat from the back. “You’re not my driver,” she said. “Where’s Janine?”

Brenda swallowed. Her mind raced quickly, but all she could think of was the stock excuse: “Oh, I’m replacing her, since… since she got a little tied up.”

Brenda cursed herself mentally. Now she’d done it.

Allison smiled. “Ah, very clever use of words there. By that, I suppose you mean she’s bound and gagged and locked in a room somewhere without her clothes?”

Brenda’s heart began pounding.

“Well, good for her! I’m glad Janine and her boyfriend are able to work in a little kinkiness every now and then… so long as she phones ahead for a substitute, of course! Well, anyway, let’s get moving.”

Brenda sighed inwardly. That had been a pretty narrow escape.

‘Careful, my girl, careful,’ she thought to herself as she pulled onto the road and began driving westward. ‘You’re liable to get yourself killed…’

**************

The blonde coughed as Sandra removed her gag. Her cheeks were red, her eyes watery.

“That b*tch…” she sputtered. “That b*tch stole my clothes… my identity… probably my car…”

“Slow down, honey,” Sandra said. “Who are you talking about?”

"Some crazy woman,” the blonde replied. “Dark skin… purple dress… beautiful-looking…”

Sandra’s brow furrowed. That description sounded familiar… like someone she had met earlier that night at the party. “What happened?” she pressed.

“She lured me to the stairwell… then took me by surprise… When I woke up, I was gagged and bound, and my clothes were gone.” She took a breath. “She must have taken them and kidnapped Allison!”
Sandra and Tanya exchanged a glance. “The bride’s mother?” Tanya asked.

“Yes… I’m her official chauffeur… Or was, anyway.” The blonde let out a depressed laugh. “I’d sure like to get my hands on that conniving b*tch.”

“If only we knew where they were going,” Sandra muttered.

The chauffeur’s face brightened. “Allison phoned to give me an address right before I was jumped,” she said. “It’s a hunch, but maybe that imposter is still taking her there.”

“Where is it?” Sandra inquired.

“It’s in a secluded spot,” the chauffeur replied. “Hidden up in the mountains, I believe.”

“The mountains?” Sandra inquired.

“Yup. See… It’s a military base.”

*************

Few people had entered the Plaza through the front doors in the last hour. This was due to two factors: Most of the guests had arrived earlier for the reception, and the sight of the two hulking figures of Isla and Olga was enough to deter any uninvited wedding-crashers.

The two large Russian women had spent the better part of the last two hours flanking the Plaza’s main entrance, their uniforms adding a sense of menace to their already imposing demeanors. The women watched the area like hawks, a task made considerably difficult by the fact that the bright moon had all but concealed itself behind a thick patch of clouds.

Isla glanced casually at her Vostok watch. She turned to Olga. “? ????????? ?? ?????????.”

Her partner nodded, and continued to stand guard while her friend left her post and turned down the nearest alley.

Isla withdrew a cigarette pack from her inner jacket pocket and lit one up. She began smoking, letting the tobacco calm her nerves and insulate her from the biting wind.

A clanging noise from behind made her turn, startled. She watched as a flea-bitten calico cat leaped out of an alleyway garbage can, a fish skeleton dangling from its mouth. The cat quickly scampered through a small hole where the soil ground met the red brick building base.

Isla smiled to herself. She lifted the cigarette back up toward her lips.

A hand clamped over her mouth. Strong, viselike… she dropped her cigarette.

Olga stood still as a statue, with only her eyes, concealed behind dark glasses, moving from side to side. She kept her head motionless as what appeared to be her uniformed friend returned to her post.

The moon finally found some freedom from behind the merciless clouds, and it shined down on the lonely street. For the first time, Olga got a good look at her fellow guard… and it was certainly not Isla.

The fight was quick and one-sided. Olga was an expert at sambo, but even all her martial-arts skills couldn’t hold up to a woman who had perfected her skills at karate, judo, jujitsu, and even Krav Maga.

Olga swung a deadly fist at Valerie, but she blocked and countered it with a swift blow to her right underarm. Olga doubled up, leaving her vulnerable to a senses-shattering neck chop.

When Olga awoke, she felt dizzy and aching. And who could blame her? She was stripped to her comfort bra and white panties, bound hand and foot, seated on ground in a smelly alleyway. Next to her was the equally stripped and restrained Isla, although her friend’s underwear was pink and consisted of a plunge bra and boy-shorts.

Nearby stood Valerie, who had neatly laid out and folded the two security uniforms, after redressing herself in the clothing she had stolen from the unfortunate Shauna. She made sure the uniforms were undamaged – after all, she had promised to return them to their original owners.

Valerie approached the two women, who glared at her. “Hello, ladies,” she said. “I’m in no mood for games tonight, so talk quickly – who are you, and why did you replace my friend and I at the guarding post?”

Olga and Isla kept silent. Then Olga smiled. “???????????? ????. ?? ?? ?????? ?????? ?? ?????? ????? ?????.”

Without missing a beat, Valerie replied, “?????? ??????????”

Olga turned pale. Isla also looked uncomfortable.

“One more time, ladies,” Valerie said. “English, Russian, I don’t care. You’re either going to talk… or run up a very, very high hospital bill.”

Olga and Isla had braved torture in Chechnya, and had combated violence in Dagestan and Ingushetia. And yet both felt the cold ice pick of fear stab into their hearts as this lone woman approached them, fists clenched, cold, calm, and completely serious.

[esercito sconfitto]

________________________________________

The wheels of the limo crunched against the twig-ridden ground. Trees lined the road on either side. Brenda slowly navigated the sleek vehicle through the deep, dark forest, doing her best not to veer off the road. Fortunately, the path was dry, and she had avoided any rough spots.

Allison glanced out the window. She turned to Brenda. “All right, driver. Shut off the engine and wait here. I’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”

“Go where, madam?” Brenda inquired, before she could stop herself.

Allison shook her head. “I suppose Janine didn’t tell you. Well, perhaps I’ll explain later.”

She stepped gingerly out of the car and disappeared into the forest.

Brenda drove the limo within a small thicket and concealed it with some fallen branches and large ferns. Then she began to quietly follow Allison’s tracks on foot.

The forest was literally abuzz with life, and Brenda had to swat away more than one mosquito. However, as she neared a clearing, her paces slowed considerably. She took off her sunglasses to get a better look.

The base was huge, exceptionally so. It was surrounded by thick stone walls that measured a good fourteen feet high, and were topped off with insulators and electrical wires. Guards in full body armor and brandishing submachine guns patrolled the perimeter. Two such guards flanked the entrance, which Allison was now approaching.

Brenda watched as Allison spoke a few words she could not make out to the two female guards. The guards nodded, and let her inside.

Brenda’s curiosity was going into overdrive. She had to know what was going on. She had to get into the military base… but how? The guards on duty were far more serious and professional-looking than the clowns who patrolled the Plaza. They would probably think nothing of shooting Brenda on sight… provided she gave them the opportunity.

Quietly, carefully, Brenda navigated her way to the other side of the base, where no guards stood rooted on patrol. She crouched down in the bushes and waited.

Every few minutes, a guard happened along, scanning the area for any signs of trouble. Brenda stayed quiet and hidden as she sized up each and every one of them. The first one was too tall; the second, too broad and muscular. The third one, however, made her eyes light up.

The young woman was olive-skinned and looked to be in her early thirties. She was dressed in a grey combat leotard beneath a black Kevlar vest and steel-toed black boots. She wore gloves which now held a large submachine rifle, and her elbows and knees were equipped with pads. Her belt was lined with pockets that were doubtlessly filled with other weapons. She wore a helmet complete with visor, which left only her nose, full lips, and chin visible.

The girl was about Brenda’s size, if a bit more muscular. She stood straight and tall, a symbol of power for her cause. Brenda was at first intimidated, and considered backing down, afraid the guard would casually snap her in two if she attempted an ambush. However, as the woman continued to mechanically turn her head from side to side, Brenda noticed a lipstick smear on her right cheek.

The guard had made a mistake while applying lipstick that morning. Brenda smiled. The guard may have looked like an invulnerable embodiment of power, but she was prone to making mistakes. In brief, she was human… and could be dealt with.

Brenda decided the element of surprise would be her most valuable asset. Gazing at the ground, she noticed a sizably thick tree branch lying on the forest floor. She lifted it up and hefted it in her hand. Strong, sturdy – perfect.

As the oblivious guard passed Brenda’s hiding place, the daring adventuress sprung up. She swung the branch through the air with a speed and precision that would do even a baseball MVP proud.

There was a swift THUD as the branch connected with the female guard’s skull, the impact absorbed by the helmet. The guard turned, confused… and angry. She raised her gun a Brenda.

Changing tactics in an instant, Brenda dove at the guard, knocking her off her feet. She grabbed the branch with both hands and pressed it down on the guard, pinning her to the dirt. The guard grunted as she tried to get up, but Brenda had evenly distributed her strength over the woman’s body.

The guard opened her mouth to cry for help… and she was swiftly gagged with Brenda's black tie. Brenda gripped the guard’s head between her elbows as she knotted the gag at the base of her neck.

“That should keep you silent, honey,” she grinned.

The guard’s eyes shot daggers at Brenda as she tried her utmost to speak out. “Mmmmmppppphhhhh… Hhhhggggmmmmmppppphhhhhhhh!”

Brenda’s pearly white teeth grinned in the moonlight. “Nitey-nite, sugarplum,” she smiled.

The guard’s eyes grew wide as Brenda’s fist sped right between them. Then her world went dark.

After ensuring that no uninvited snoops had witnessed her improvised ambush, Brenda dragged the insensible guard back into the bushes and began stripping her of her uniform. She was quite impressed with the way the experience of divesting another woman of her clothes was growing on her. She took special care in folding the vest and leotard and setting them aside, ensuring they would remain undamaged and wearable. The boots and gloves were set nearby, as were the helmet, belt, and gun.

The guard was now down to her white bullet-cup bra and bikini panties. She lay spread-eagled on the ground, a mop of black hair over her face. Almost like an angel, Brenda thought.

A quick search of the pockets on the utility belt revealed a tightly wound cord of wire, just thick enough to be convincingly deemed unbreakable. Brenda tested the wire’s firmness and was satisfied.

“Time to wrap things up, darling,” she cooed. It was an old joke, she knew, but an irresistible one nonetheless.

Benda rolled the ex-guard onto her stomach and crossed her wrists behind her. These she tied with the incredibly taut wire, knotting it at the wrist. Another length of wire went several times around the woman’s trim ankles. Once this had been accomplished, the guard’s knees were bent back until her heels rested on the two prominent cheeks of her ass. A hogtie secured the wrists to the ankles.

Brenda dragged the guard deeper into the woods, away from prying eyes and attentive ears, and secured her to a tree trunk. She made sure the bonds were strong and painful, the better to discourage any struggling. Then she slithered out of the chauffeur’s uniform and began donning the guard’s.

The leotard hugged her body, as its one-size-fits-all model worked well against her figure. The vest strapped on easily, and the belt snapped around her waist. The pads were strapped onto knees and elbows. The gloves and boots were worked on, and the helmet covered her hair and most of her face. Brenda was now effectively disguised.

Leaving the slowly stirring guard to awaken and contemplate her fate, Brenda hoisted the submachine in her hands and began pacing the facility. She made four complete rounds of the base before she had summoned up enough courage to approach the entry gates.

The two lady guards on duty were dressed identically to Brenda, but to her, they still looked very intimidating. She scarcely dared to breathe as she neared them.

The guard on the left threw a salute. Brenda hesitated – just for a moment – before she thought to return the gesture. She then stepped through the gates.

“Halt, soldier!” the guard on the right suddenly cried out.

Brenda swallowed.

The guard approached her. Brenda noticed a large serrated knife clipped to the woman’s belt. Her legs began to feel weak.

“Hold your gun properly, soldier! You’re not on the training fields.”

Brenda blinked behind her visor. She adjusted her submachine so the barrel fit the notch of her shoulder.

“Excellent. Proceed.” The muscular guard returned to her post.

Brenda’s heart resumed a proper beating pattern. She began to step forward into the base.

“Keep calm, my girl. Just keep calm,” she whispered to herself. “You can survive this. You just might.”



7/16/2014,

[esercito sconfitto]

_

The nylon that encased Shauna was thick and restrictive. She lay under the bed for what seemed like forever, twitching this way and that, trying to garner enough slack to break free.

After a half-hour of stuffy, sweaty struggling, Shauna was about to give up. It was at that moment, however, that her nylon-encased wrists rubbed against a bedspring at the bottom of the mattress.

Shauna’s eyes lit up. Taking care not to scratch herself, she began rubbing the nylon against the spring’s sharp edge. Slowly at first, then faster and faster… She was soon rewarded with the sounds of tearing nylon.

After ten minutes of careful cutting, Shauna had freed her wrists from confinement, and went to work on cutting open the cable which bound them. From there, it was a simple task to free the rest of her body from captivity.

Minutes later, Shauna crawled out from beneath the bedspread and stood up, stretching. She caught a glimpse of her naked form in the dress mirror, and quickly crossed her arms over her chest.

“Mercy! I’d better put on some clothes, and phone the police!”

She dove into her closet and picked out a cream-colored pair of bra and panties, nude-colored tights, a green blouse, blue jeans, and low-heeled sandals. She dressed quickly, not even bothering to check how well the clothes all matched.

Once fully clothed, Shauna exited the closet… only to see a tall, grinning, underwear-clad woman smelling of garbage looking down at her.

“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Amanda… I’ve just let myself in through your window. And I’m here looking for some clothes…”

Shauna suppressed the urge to begin crying as she was again forced to strip naked, and was bound and gagged by the woman who then donned her clothes. Amanda took special care in mummifying the girl in rolls of Scotch tape she found in one of the drawers.

Dragging the woman into the bedroom, Amanda bid her adieu before rolling her beneath the bedspread. Then she crouched down. “Hmmm… loose bedspring. That could be dangerous.” She picked up the mattress and flipped it over.

Shauna screamed into her gag as her last hope of escape disappeared. She struggled uselessly, growing more and more desperate.

“Don’t exhaust yourself, honey. You’ll stay pretty.” Amanda smiled and turned out the lights as she left.

*************

Allison followed a pair of armed female guards down a lengthy hallway to the corner office. One guard inserted a keycard, and stood back as the door slid open.

“Ma’am,” the guard gestured to Allison.

Allison stepped forward into the office. One guard followed her in, while the other stood outside.

A woman sat behind the desk, blonde, bespectacled, and dressed in the uniform of an Army Corporal. She smiled as Allison entered, and extended her hand in greeting.

“It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” she beamed.

Allison didn’t return the handshake. She just glared at the Corporal. “Give me my daughter,” she said flatly.

The woman maintained a smile. “You made a deal,” she said. “There’s no going back.”

“That was twenty-three years ago!” Allison spat. “I was young… foolish! I want my girl back!”

The Corporal shrugged. “Afraid we can’t accommodate you,” she said.

Allison scowled. “I’ll kill you,” she said through gritted teeth. She lunged at the woman. “I’ll kill y–uuuhhhhh!”
The guard hit her with a taser, sending a surge of electricity through her nervous system. Allison collapsed in a heap on the floor.

The Corporal gazed, pitiless, at Allison’s fallen figure. “Take her downstairs,” she ordered the guard. “She wants to see her daughter… well, she can join her fate.”

*************

The wind had turned abruptly chilly that night, and Valerie found herself wishing she had appropriated Shauna’s tights. Still, as she dragged the two bound-and-gagged Russian gymnasts over to the dumpster, she was pleased to realize that the underwear-clad women would experience the cold to a far greater extent than she would.

She opened the dumpster, ready to rouse her friend from slumber. However, apart from the usual garbage bags, the inside of the dump was empty.

“Need some help with those two?” a voice came from behind.

Valerie turned to see a beaming Amanda. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Val. I got out and borrowed some clothes from one of the neighborhood’s more generous residents.” She looked at the two muscular yet pathetic-looking women on the ground before her. “Ah! I see you’ve routed up our little playmates.”

Valerie nodded. “Want to hold the dumpster open while I drop them in?”

Amanda smiled. “Give them a taste of their own medicine, huh? I’m all for it, but what say we add a little twist?”

Smiling deviously, Amanda knelt down before the two women and began knotting and reknotting their bonds. She arose after two minutes of deft, delicate work, and smiled.

The two blonde Russians were now pressed up against one another, their arms and legs intertwined, their breasts somewhat squashed. A casual observer could be forgiven for assuming the two women were interlocked in a passionate embrace, although their taped-over lips did not quite touch one another’s.

The women were laid down to enjoy a peaceful slumber atop the garbage bags, followed by a not-so-peaceful session where they would wake up and discover their awkward and rather uncomfortable positions.

“Maybe they’ll learn to make the best of a bad situation!” Amanda giggled.

Valerie said nothing, but she slammed the lid of the garbage dump down with the strength of a woman who had well and truly won a battle.

Unfortunately, the main battle was far from over. “How are we going to get into the Plaza?” Amanda inquired. “The police have probably cordoned off the area by this point. There’s no way we can get through into the lobby without arousing some kind of suspicion.”

Valerie ran her fingers through her bangs in thought. Suddenly, her ears picked up the distinct rumble of an engine. She and Amanda peered out of the alleyway.

A white and gold van rumbled into view, bearing the name “Ace Window Cleaners, Ltd.” The vehicle stopped at the corner, and two tall, muscular women stepped out. Both were dressed in blue coveralls and brown boots, though the blonde’s appeared to be a little dirtier than the brunette’s. They both lit cigarettes and leaned on the van as they began chatting.

Valerie turned to Amanda. “I’ve got an idea. Just hope you’re not afraid of heights…”

[tirepanted]

Brenda kept her head positioned forward as she continued though the base, trying her best to look like a real security guard. As she had hoped, no one paid her any real heed. In her mind, Brenda checked “Infiltrate” off her list. Now she needed to find out a little more about the place.

Beneath her visor, Brenda’s eyes continually darted this way and that. She tried to take in the various buildings, weapons, and utility vehicles, the various military and medical personnel who strode by, chatting about some mysterious “Project X”.

Brenda tried to learn more about “Project X”, but no one she eavesdropped on gave her much information. However, a pair of high-ranking female Colonels seemed especially intent not to let their hushed conversation be overheard as they walked up the marble steps toward an industrious building situated in the center of the base.
Growing more curious by the moment, Brenda discreetly followed the two uniformed women inside the building. She watched them walk down a long corridor before stepping through a pair of guarded double doors. Before the doors closed, Brenda caught sight of other Colonels, as well as some Majors and Generals, seating themselves inside.

A sign outside the door told Brenda about a meeting that would commence shortly in the room – a top-secret meeting, apparently, as a sign told her that only high-ranking Army officials would be allowed inside.

Brenda tapped her chin thoughtfully as she headed back down the corridor. She was slowly formulating a plan. It would require some skill, and more than a little luck, but she had come too far to stop now.

Consulting the directory, Brenda swiftly located the Ladies’ Room. She entered carefully and surveyed the scene. Ten stalls lined one wall, opposite eight sink basins and a long, slightly cracked mirror. Brenda pressed a knee pad to the ground as she knelt down to look beneath the stalls, checking for any high-heels or boots. She stood up, satisfied that she was alone in the restroom.

Brenda returned to the door of the restroom and opened it a crack. She stood there with bated breath, waiting for a suitable and unsuspecting target.

It took a few minutes – and more than a few potential uniform donors who were ultimately spared due to a significant difference in size or build. But just as Brenda’s face began showing genuine signs of concern, the click-clacking of a pair of high-heeled boots alerted her – and this time, she was not disappointed.

The Major looked to be in her late twenties, slim, and attractive, with blonde hair tightly wound into a bun beneath her peaked cap. She was dressed in a green uniform jacket and khaki trousers, with brown boots and a white shirt that was adorned with a black tie. The Major was staring intently at her watch, and did not look up until Brenda rather loudly cleared her throat.

The Major snapped out of her process. “Something the matter, soldier?”

“No, ma’am,” Brenda replied. “I’d just… I would like to get my sister a watch for her birthday, and yours looks rather fancy. May I see what brand it is?”

“Of course,” the Major smiled. She trustingly extended her arm. “It’s a Timex Expedition with waterproof seal and – HEY, WHAT THE…” Her arm was abruptly grabbed and twisted, and she was pulled into the Ladies’ Room.

After locking the door from the inside, Brenda quickly applied a viselike sleeper hold on her victim, leaving the Major gasping. The woman clawed desperately at her attacker, trying at the very least to scratch the woman’s eyes, but the armor and visor protected Brenda from any harm.

The Major’s boots squeaked against the tiled floor. She tried thrusting herself back to throw Brenda off-balance, but Brenda’s steel-toed black boots kept her firmly rooted to the spot. The Major frantically tried to scream, but the pressure of Brenda’s arm on her windpipe ensured that no sound could emit.

“Give it up, sugar,” Brenda whispered. “You’re mine now.”

The Major’s eyelids began to flutter. Her struggles grew less violent, and the squeaking of her boots slowed. Forty seconds later, she had gone completely limp in Brenda's grasp.

Brenda dropped the Major and hurriedly stripped off her borrowed combat uniform. The armor, boots, and pads she lay aside; the leotard she cut into useful strips.

The Major remained blissfully unconscious as Brenda stripped off her jacket, boots, and skirt, followed by her tie, shirt, and tights. The young woman was now unprofessionally down to a dull cream pair of lacy bra and panties.

“You can keep the undies, dearie… Wouldn’t want anyone to think you immodest!” Brenda grinned as she reached under the woman’s armpits and dragged her to the farthest stall.

The young Major was seated on the toilet bowl. The thick elastic leotard secured her wrists together, and bound them to the bowl pipe. Her legs were bent behind the toilet and secured together. Some thick gauze from the utility belt was balled up and stuffed behind the Major’s unconscious cheeks, while the last strip of leotard insured it would stay in place.

After rechecking all the knots, Brenda shut the door and set about dressing in the Major’s uniform. The jacket and skirt fit reasonably well, but the boots were half a size too small. Brenda begrudgingly acknowledged that she had no choice but to wear them; however, she did recognize her good fortune in so well approximating a fit.

Brenda placed the Major’s cap on her head and gazed at herself in the bathroom mirror. The woman who stared back was a professional – strong, forceful, fearless. Suddenly, she didn’t feel too nervous anymore.

A quick search of the restroom’s cabinets revealed a roll of duct tape on a lower shelf. Brenda stuffed it into her jacket, knowing it would make things easier if she ran into trouble again.

Brenda exited the restroom and hung an “Out of Order” sign on the door. Then she began walking down the hall. She clasped her hands behind her back and took bold, striding steps.

A pair of female soldiers approached, talking and laughing with one another. They froze up as Brenda approached. One quickly threw a salute, and the other followed.

Brenda returned the salute and smiled inwardly. She had “promoted” herself to one of the most important women in the building in a matter of minutes. There was no stopping her now.

*************

“I’m cold,” Janine muttered.

“Being in your bra and panties will do that to you,” Tonya retorted.

“I need clothes!” Janine replied as the police car continued to rumble through the woods. “You two have your cop uniforms, but I’m still in my bra and panties!” She sighed. “When I get my hands on the girl who mugged me, I’ll make her pay. Big time.”

“Quiet, you two,” Sandra said. “What’s that up ahead?”

Al three women gazed out the window. Off in the far distance, they could see it – a large military compound, surrounded by thick walls and armed guards.

Sandra pulled the car off the side of the road into a copse of trees before they could get close enough to be spotted.

“What now?” Tonya asked.

“We’ve got to find a way to slip inside,” Sandra replied.

Janine gazed out the window. “I sure hope we’re on the right track,” she said. “I’d hate for…”

She gasped. “My… God!”

“What?” Sandra inquired.

“My limo! It’s there!” Janine threw open the door before either of her two accomplices could stop her. She bounded towards the nearby thicket of trees and cleared away the fauna which concealed it. “I can’t believe it!” She checked the license number to make sure. “We are definitely on the right track!”

“Wonderful,” Sandra hissed. “Now would you get back in the car before my shoe gets on the right track with your ass?”

Janine ignored her. Her gaze fell upon something small and pen-shaped on the ground. She knelt down. It was her recorder.

Janine quickly pieced together the facts. The woman who had stolen her uniform had likely unwittingly dropped the recorder from her jacket when she exited the limo. She stared at the recorder and wondered. Maybe, just maybe…

She put the recorder to her ear and pressed the “Play” button. The voice was identical to the milk-and-honey sounds of the woman who had asked her for her phone earlier that night. “Brenda’s Journal, Entry Number 0001,” the recording said. “It’s a dark, eerie night. Brenda, the valiant, courageous adventure girl, sits alone in a parked limo at the corner of 76th and Columbus, scanning the area for any signs of danger. Once a small-time secretary, Brenda has become swept up into the world of undercover espionage. No task is too daring for this brave and beautiful young woman… particularly when cute guys are involved.”

Janine scowled. The woman who had mugged her was… a thrill-seeker?

“We’ll see who’s the ‘adventure girl’ when I get my hands on you, darling,” she muttered, tucking the recorder into her bra.

Sandra roughly placed a hand on her shoulder. “Get back in the fucking car before I…”

The sound of an engine alerted her. Sandra’s eyes darted back and forth. Quietly, she crept over to a spot she had recently driven over where the road came to a sharp turn. Off in the distance, she could make out approaching headlights. They belonged to a large black EMS vehicle that seemed to be en route to the base. Squinting, Sandra could make out a female driver, dressed in black, as well as two nurses in the backseat, clad in white.

Knowing she would likely not get another opportunity this good, Sandra stepped out in middle of the road.

The driver pressed a booted heel to the brakes. She rolled down the window and frowned at Sandra. “What’s the idea, officer?”

“May I inquire where you’re taking this vehicle?” Sandra asked politely but forcefully.

“To the central base, of course,” the driver replied. “The soldiers need to be examined before they can be deemed healthy enough to perform in combat. Now may we go?”

Sandra’s eyes glinted in the pale moonlight. “I’m afraid there’s been a change in tonight’s program,” she smiled. “Shut off the engine and step out of the car. Oh, and that goes for your passengers as well.”

The driver eyed her suspiciously. “What? We haven’t done anything illegal!”

“No,” Sandra replied. “But I need you all to step out of the vehicle and hand over your clothes, after which you will all be securely gagged and bound to some trees where you’ll likely never be discovered.”

The driver’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Is this some kind of joke?” she inquired.

“Ma’am, do you see me laughing?” Sandra removed the gun from her holster.

The two blonde nurses shared a worried glance.

“Hurry up, ladies. I don’t have all night,” Sandra urged as she calmly aimed the gun at the vehicle’s windshield. She had no intention of killing any of the women inside, but her ploy to scare them worked. Shakily, submissively, the three women were herded out of the car and into the forest.

Ten minutes later, Sandra and Tonya were fastening the buttons of the white uniforms, pulling up the knee-length white tights and skirts, and lacing up the soft-soled white shoes that were still warm from the bodies of the two innocent and unassuming nurses. Nearby, Janine was zipping up the driver’s black uniform and boots, which was not a far cry from her old one.

The real driver and nurses would likely have complained – if they were capable of speaking out. But their mouths had been stuffed with their own panties and covered with medical gauze from the taller nurse’s first aid kit. More gauze went around their bodies, covering them from their necks to their ankles and securing them in standing positions to a large, thick tree. Their backs rubbed against the tree bark, causing them to futilely moan in protest.

“Awfully sorry, girls,” Sandra said as she dusted down her uniform. “But rest easy. I’m sure someone will find you in a day or two… or three or four.”

Tonya smiled at her own uniform. “Wow, a near-perfect fit! Tonight is looking up!”

Janine flexed, letting her newly acquired chauffeur uniform brush against her body. “This feels so good. This uniform is just like my old one… only even more comfortable!”

The real chauffeur moaned in protest. Eyes flickering, Janine sidled up to her.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Lose your clothes? I guess you’re not as tough a woman as you think you are.” She grinned as she drew her face even closer to that of the fearful girl. “I’m the alpha female here, honey. I stole all your clothes, and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”

The girl began sobbing softly. Janine smiled. Her self-esteem had returned. No longer was she afraid to face the black bitch who had stolen her uniform earlier that night. In fact, she relished the idea.

“Quit gloating,” Sandra snapped. “We’ve got to get into the base… find Allison… figure out what’s going on.”

She and Tonya stepped into the back of the medical vehicle, and Janine climbed into the driver’s seat. The cloud of dust kicked up by the vehicle’s wheels further watered the eyes of the three unfortunate captives, who were already sobbing extensively.

The blonde window washer finished her cigarette, and pitched the stub out into the street.

“You shouldn’t litter,” her brunette friend reprimanded her.

“Shouldn’t smoke, either,” the blonde replied with a smile. “But I guess I’m the rebellious type.” She glanced at her watch. “We’ve got a few hours before the morning shift kicks in. Whaddaya say to a girls’ night out?”

The brunette laughed, finishing her own cigarette. “Just so long as there’s not too much drinking,” she said.

“You’re no fun,” the blonde grinned. “Let me just call Brian… make sure he’s tucked the kids in for tonight. Then we go all out.”

She stepped away to use the phone. After thirty seconds of chatter, she closed it again and turned to speak to her partner… who was nowhere to be seen.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “Debbie?” she called.

“I’m here,” her friend called from inside the back of the van.

The blonde thought she detected a slight shake in her friend’s voice as she approached the slightly ajar back door. “Is everything okay, sweetie?” she asked as she stepped before the back of the van.

The doors suddenly flung open, and a pair of muscular arms shot out. “It is now,” Amanda laughed as she pulled the blonde inside.

Debbie was currently a captive of Valerie, who now looked at the woman and her friend with coldness in her eyes. “I’ll ask you once, ladies,” she said in a soft, chilling voice. “Strip off your clothing, and don’t make a sound while doing so.”

Once again, Valerie’s ability to strike fear into the hearts of other women did not fail. The two window cleaners raised their shaky hands to their coveralls and began unbuttoning them.

Valerie tapped her watch impatiently. “Hurry up, girls. The faster you undress, the less damage you’ll sustain.”

Two minutes later the women were down to their white comfort bras and pink floral panties. They stood, hands raised, trembling. Valerie turned to Amanda. “Tie them up. I’ll set up the equipment we need.”

As Valerie closed the door, Amanda smiled at her two tearful captives. “Don’t worry about Val. She’s just having a rough night. And I won’t hurt you ladies… In fact, you might even enjoy it!”

So saying, she used the women’s cast-off tights to bind them together, facing one another. “A breast-bind here, a crotch-rope there… Hold still, please… voila!”

She stood back and beamed. The two hapless women now lay on the floor facing each other, arms and legs intricately bound together, locking them in what appeared to be a passionate embrace. Tape was wound around their lower faces, entrapping their mouths. The more they struggled, the tighter the ropes pressed them together.

“Neat, huh?” Amanda grinned. “A couple of my sorority chums taught me all about binding in college. I tell you, I learned so much more when the lights were off…”

The blonde grunted in anger and frustration.

“Ooh… sorry if you’re feeling uncomfy,” Amanda said. “But it looks as though you two will be here awhile.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “I recommend you use the time as an opportunity… Maybe get to know each other a little more ‘personally’… if you catch my drift.” She winked and giggled.

The two captives struggled furiously, but soon the hopelessness of their situation dawned on them. They began to sob softly.

Amanda exited the van with the two piles of clothes and locked the door. She then located Valerie, and the two security coordinators had soon dressed in the slips, overalls, and boots of their victims.

“Is everything set?” Amanda asked as she dusted down her uniform.

“Just about,” Valerie replied. “We’ll both stand on the washing platform and let it take us to the roof of the Plaza, where we can climb in through one of the penthouse windows. Just first drive the van out behind the building to some deserted section in the lot. That should ensure our two clothing contributors stay hidden a while longer.”

“You got it,” Amanda smiled. She walked towards the van, and unlocked it with a set of stolen keys. She stepped into the cab and drove it out back to a secluded area.

As she stopped the engine, Amanda could make out the distinct sounds of female gasping and rhythmic wriggling coming from the back of the van. She smiled. “Atta girls,” she whispered as she exited the vehicle.

**************

The auditorium was not especially crowded, but Brenda chose a seat in the back. She sat down and began listening to the short blonde Major who now stood at the podium, addressing the crowd.

“Our plans are almost at fruition,” the Major said. “The girls we are training will soon become the most dangerous army on Earth. Their gorgeous appearances and feminine charms will gain them access to the most secretive of enemy stations – and once there, their combat training will allow them to spy, steal, and kill as much as we need them to.”

Brenda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. An Army of beautiful young women? In her mind, she pieced everything together… Allison was frantic… Her beautiful daughter had been abducted… And there was a good chance that Allison was now in trouble as well.

“The girls are currently in our compound’s medical facility,” the Major continued. “Our scientists are slowly introducing a powerful stimulant into their bloodstream. By morning, they’ll be able to snap a football player’s neck without breaking a sweat. Coupled with our space project, there’s no one on Earth that can stop us.”

The audience applauded.

Brenda’s brow furrowed. “Looks like it’s up to little ol’ me to save the day,” she whispered to herself.

As soon as the assembly ended, Brenda was out the door. After consulting a map, she was on her way to the medical facility. She knew she wouldn’t be able to rescue all the captive girls herself, but she would aim for rescuing Mona, and notifying the authorities later.

The facility was reserved for medical personnel only… but that didn’t even make Brenda flinch. She had a job to do… and a plan by which she could accomplish it. A plan that would likely leave some poor, innocent female scientist without her clothes, freedom, or dignity.

The woman was tall, slim, and attractive. She wore a white lab coat over her blue blouse and knee-length skirt. A pair of horn-rimmed spectacles adorned her eyes, and her blonde hair had been pulled tightly back into a bun. Flat back shoes and tan tights completed the ensemble of a young female scientist. She was consulting an iPad as she headed into a warehouse behind the facility.

Brenda checked her Timex Expedition. She reckoned it would take under five minutes to subdue the girl… and just to make things more challenging, she decided she would do so without using brute force. Smiling mischievously, she entered the warehouse, quietly pulling the door shut behind her. She maneuvered around a small parked truck, quietly as a field mouse.

The young scientist was hovering over a collection of crates in the corner of the warehouse when she heard a throat clearing behind her.

“Oh!” She jumped, then quickly saluted. “Major! Wh-what brings you here?”

Brenda could see the girl was nervous to be in the presence of what she believed to be an important military figure. Clearly, her disguise was convincing.

Brenda maintained a cool, calm facial expression, but remained silent. She stared at the girl, who was beginning to look a little queasy.

“Muh-major? Did you… want something?”

Brenda slowly broadened her lips into a smile. The sort of smile that a cat makes when she eyes a helpless little mouse.

Her eyes travelled to the scientist’s left breast, and the nametag adorned upon it.

“Tamika,” she read. Her voice was cool, calm, yet also tinged with a hint of malice. “That’s a very pretty name.”

“Th-thank you,” Tamika stammered.

“You are a very pretty girl,” Brenda continued. “Truly, one of the loveliest I’ve ever see.”

Tamika swallowed. “I… I have work…” she tried to step to the side, but Brenda blocked her.

“Very noble, Tamika,” she said slowly, rolling the girl’s name around her tongue as though it were a candy. “But I’m afraid you won’t be going back to work tonight.”

Tamika blinked. “I... don’t understand…”

“It’s simple, really,” Brenda continued, flashing a set of pearly whites at the trembling girl. “You will take off all your clothing and hand them over to me. You will do this without fuss, without noise, and without object. And you will do it now.”

Tamika gulped. “What? Wh-why would you want me to do that? I mean… I need my clothes…”

“I need them more,” Brenda replied curtly. “I’m afraid your hands are tied… figuratively, though soon literally. You doomed yourself the moment you entered this warehouse alone. You belong to me… and every article of clothing you wear is now mine. Now do be so kind as to remove your clothing.”

She said all this in a calm, quiet voice, as though she were asking a friend to peel an orange.

Tamika opened her mouth. Then she closed it again and hung her head.

“Dearest,” Brenda repeated softly, “remove your clothing.”

Stifling a sob, the girl began unbuttoning her lab coat.

Brenda just looked on, a broad smile on her beautiful face, as the woman stepped out of her shoes, then slowly wriggled her skirt down her long legs. The blouse was next to go, leaving her standing in just a white slip above her tights and underwear.

“Don’t stop yet,” Brenda grinned.

The girl pulled off her slip, then stuck her thumbs into the waistband of her tights and slowly slid them down and off her body. Now she stood in just a scalloped pink bra and matching panties. She looked up at Brenda, eyes pleading.

“Please… m-may I please keep my underwear?”

Brenda slowly shook her head, the smile never disappearing from her face.

Tears sprang into the girl’s eyes as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. The garment fluttered to the floor, where it was momentarily joined by a pair of warm panties.

The woman now stood completely naked, apart from the glasses on her face and the pin in her hair. She crossed her arms above her chest, trying to keep her modesty.

“Stand straight, sweetie,” Brenda said.

The woman dropped her arms to her sides. She stood silently, motionlessly, as Brenda took a step forward and reached out with both hands toward the glasses on her face. She slowly removed them. Then she reached behind the girl’s head and removed the pin, causing her gold tresses to fall from confinement.

“You are truly a beautiful girl,” Brenda said. She reached into her jacket and removed the roll of duct tape. “A shame we have to conceal that beauty now.” She advanced toward the pale, shivering woman, her own smile broadening with each step.

**************

The cell hadn’t been designed that could hold Allison. She knew this as the guards dragged her down to it. She knew it as they locked her away, laughing and jeering all the while. She had remained silent, and waited for the moment when the guard would be making her rounds on the other side of the cell block.

She worked quickly, using the lockpick she had concealed in her cleavage before entering the base. The lock was a complicated build, but it was still no match for her nimble fingers and dexterous mind.

The guard approached Allison’s cell and looked inside. She was surprised to find it empty. She stepped closer to the cell, trying to get a better look, when something struck her from behind.

Allison dragged the guard into the cell and stripped her of her uniform – blouse, skirt, helmet, and boots. She donned the clothing before binding and gagging the guard with strips from her business suit. She left the girl on the cell’s bed and covered her with a blanket. Anyone else walking by would assume Allison was simply taking a nap.

Allison felt the gun that now rested at her belt. It was time to settle the score.

*************

“Wait here,” Sandra said. “Tonya and I will be back in a few minutes.”

Janine folded her arms. “Why do I have to stay in the parking lot?”

“Because we’ll need someone ready at the wheel in case something goes wrong,” Tonya retorted. “Just sit tight, and keep an eye out for any trouble.”

Janine folded her arms, but said nothing.

Resplendent in their nurse uniforms, Sandra and Tonya headed toward the base’s medical facility.

“You think Bride-Babe is in there?” Tonya whispered.

“Worth a shot,” Sandra replied. “At any rate, it’s the place we’ll blend in the most.”

*************

Brenda smiled down into the wooden crate. “Comfy?” she asked its cramped female occupant.

The blonde moaned, her mouth muffled by the sound-deadening pair of panties – her own panties – which had been taped inside. She was curled up in a fetal position, arms in front, wrists bound to her knees. Her ankles were similarly bound, and connected to her wrist bindings via a crotchrope. She looked up at Brenda, eyes pleading.

Brenda’s smile widened as she hoisted the lid of the crate and hammered it onto the box, trapping its uncomfortable, sweaty occupant inside. She dragged the crate into a corner of the warehouse and stacked other crates on top of and around it, thus ensuring the young scientist was well and truly hidden.

Consulting the timetables, Brenda estimated it would be at least two days before the crew was scheduled to transport the boxes… that is, assuming they wouldn’t extend the weekend as a holiday… Would that be the case, young Tamika would have plenty of time to get to know her bonds.

Brenda checked her reflection in the window of the small delivery truck. Her hair was now wound into a tight, straight bun. Her body now sported a lab coat and the somewhat geeky attire beneath. A pair of glasses covered her dark eyes – thankfully, the prescription wasn’t strong enough to mess with her vision.

Brenda felt an air of confidence wash over her as she exited the warehouse and headed for the medical facility.

**************

Allison slowly made her way down the corridors of the prison. She fitted a silencer onto her gun as she glanced around the corner. Voices… she could hear voices. Her back to the wall, she made her way forward.

A pair of female guards were standing at the end of the next hallway, idly chatting with one another. A security room was situated on Allison’s left. Carefully, she eased inside. A young female guard was sitting in front of the sixteen video screens, boredly flipping through the latest issue of Cosmo. Allison snuck up behind her and looped a garrote wire over her neck. The girl never knew what hit her. By the time Allison was lowering her body to the floor, it was already growing cold.

Allison returned to the hall, now assured that Big Sister would not be watching her. The two guards in the next hall were barely paying attention to their posts. One was wondering if she could exchange her grey uniform for a red one. Allison squeezed the trigger. The girl got her wish. Her friend whirled and reached for her gun. There was a flash of metal as Allison’s knife flew through the air, perfectly aimed between the girl’s rather impressive breasts.

One guard had left her post at entrance to the fourth sector in order to use the Ladies’ Room. Allison crouched in the shadows. The woman returned and lit a cigarette. There was a soft “phut”. The cigarette fell to the floor before the guard did.

Moving past the sector, Allison noticed the guards’ sleeping quarters. Two women were inside. One stood at the mirror, tidying her hair. The last thing she saw was a woman in the doorway, leveling a gun. The other woman was sleeping soundly in her bed. Allison left her sleeping forever.

The next guard was a high-rank sentinel, as could be guessed from the jet black of her uniform. She had her back to Allison as she stared intently down the corridor of the fifth sector. Allison correctly guessed the woman would have a more difficult time maintaining her post with a broken neck. She dressed in the woman’s uniform and headed over to the guards’ lounge. Three women lounged. Three knives flashed. Three coffee cups fell.

Allison mopped her brow. She returned down the hallways to her own cell, sidestepping all her dearly departed foes. The guard whose uniform she had initially stolen lay bound and gagged on the bed. She recoiled in horror as Allison entered.

“Hello, dear,” Allison smiled. “Since you’re the only sentry in this complex who still has a pulse, you’d probably be the best person to answer this question: where is my daughter?”

She said it coolly, calmly, with one hand resting on her gun, the other slowly peeling off the terrified woman’s gag.

**************

Camille was just about to give up. She had combed the hotel from top to bottom, searching for the coveted necklace. Now she was back in the lobby, tired and subdued and rather frustrated.

“So much for being the world’s greatest thief,” she muttered.

And where the hell were Sandra and Tonya? Those two hadn’t been answering her calls lately. Had they turned off their phones? Or had they found the jewel, and decided to split it together without telling her?

She sat on the couch, her maid’s uniform rather dusty from all her searching, and kicked off her trainers. As she let her toes luxuriate in the rich thread carpeting, trying to relax, the door opened.

Camille looked up. The woman who entered was a receptionist – with red hair, pink lips, and round breasts beneath her crisp white shirt, red vest, and black skirt.

The woman flashed a smile at Camille. “Rough night, huh?” She turned to the coffeemaker. “Good thing we’ve got a place to unwind.”

Camille watched her wordlessly.

“I tell ya,” the receptionist said. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to work all night… Between the bride and her mother skipping out on the wedding, and the police swinging by… sheesh.”

She began filling a Styrofoam cup with coffee. “I feel bad for you and the other maids,” she said. “All the receptionists get to go home when they want, but you’ll be stuck here all night cleaning up this mess.”

Camille raised an eyebrow.

The woman shut off the machine and let the coffee cool. “I can’t wait to get some nice, relaxing sleep,” she chuckled. She then knelt down to look for some packs of sugar in the bottom drawer.

Camille didn’t hesitate. She dove at the woman with the skill and ferocity of a puma. The receptionist hadn’t time to suck in a breath before an arm of sinewy female muscle wrapped around her windpipe. She fell, a terrified mass of flaying limbs, while the calm, controlled Camille never loosened her grip on the poor woman.

By the time Camille was dragging the receptionist into a small supply closet, the woman was well and truly out cold. She appeared calm, beautiful… and ready for stripping.

The receptionist uniform was a remarkable fit. Camille was impressed. She felt that wearing it had actually relieved some of her stress. Although, she mused, looking up at the ceiling, it hadn’t helped as much as the bondage therapy she’d just employed.

The receptionist was naked, suspended from the ceiling, roped into an uncomfortable curled-up position that left her ample ass-cheeks jutting skyward. Duct tape had transformed her head from that of a beautiful lady into that of an Egyptian mummy… although most Egyptian mummies probably didn’t have panties stuffed into their mouths. Nor, Camille mused, did most have their bras assembled into a makeshift “harness” that suspended their ankles a good ten feet above the floor.

“Sorry, luv. Enjoy your nice, relaxing sleep.” Camille stood on tiptoes and kissed the woman’s upside-down forehead. Then she was out the door.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Time for Operation: Get the Hell Out of Here.”

She rounded a corner, only to come to a dead stop. Two women in coveralls and boots were lumbering down the stairs… the two hotel guards Camille had tricked and mugged earlier!

Camille tried to run, but in her stolen heels, she never stood a chance. The two women pulled her into a back room, and everything went dark.

***************

Brenda consulted her clipboard as she strutted through the medical facility. She couldn’t understand most of the words and figures that had been jotted down on it, but she figured looking at it would add to her “science geek” cover.

The compound was huge, and it would be too much work to look for Mona on foot. However, Brenda quickly spotted a chart of names in the building’s reception area.

As she stood by the chart, frustrated that it gave call numbers for the abducted women rather than their actual names, Brenda heard voices coming from the nearby reception area. Two nurses were talking to the secretary on duty, explain that they were at the base to give checkups to the prisoners, asking if they could examine a certain girl at the facility – a girl with black hair, a curved figure, and the name… Mona.

Brenda watched as the secretary led the two nurses over to a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only” and pressed her hand to a fingerprint scanner. The three then stepped inside, after which the door shut behind them.

Brenda was stymied. She had no way inside… and although she couldn’t place her finger on it, there was something odd about those two women. She wracked her brain, trying to come up with a plan.

The sound of whistling caught her ears. Brenda glanced down a side hallway, where a female janitor was rolling her cleaning cart down the corridor on a squeaky wheel. She was dressed in a dark green jumpsuit, black PVC boots, and a green “Save the Environment” hat. The whistling brunette turned and wheeled her cart into a walk-in supply closet.

Brenda couldn’t help whistling nonchalantly to herself as she casually walked down the corridor and sidled into the closet, shutting the door softly behind her.

The thuds and crashes which followed were effectively muted by the high-powered air conditioning unit which rumbled away in the next room.

Brenda emerged from the closet minutes after, still whistling, now sporting a dark green jumpsuit and PVC boots. It fit like a glove. She felt the ring of keys now at her hip and smiled. No room in the facility would be safe from her now.

As she continued down the hall, Brenda passed a pair of generals, who paid her no heed. She had to bite her lip as they passed. How could they know that the woman currently planning to take down their facility was right under their noses – or that they were at this very moment passing by a closet which contained a bound, gagged, unconscious, and bra-and-panty-clad employee of the military base’s cleaning crew?

They couldn’t, of course… until it would be too late. Brenda allowed herself a small chuckle.

Camille needed an aspirin. The very least, she needed something to make her forget that she had been stripped, bound, and kidnapped, and that she was now lying unceremoniously in the back of a dark van with tinted windows. She moaned. Voices… she could hear voices outside, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Heather and Millie sat bound and gagged on the floor of the alley, their underwear-clad backs to the cold wall of the van. They looked fearfully up at the two women who stood before them.

“Good evening, ladies,” Valerie politely intoned. “Once again, I’d like to thank you for providing us with proper disguises earlier today. We could not have accomplished our work without you.”

She drew a knife from her belt. Heather and Millie gave a start. They started to moan and plead helplessly.

“Calm down, girls,” Valerie said. “It’s not what you think. A deal’s a deal, so…”

She cut away the bonds that held Heather. Then she did the same to Millie.

Both women stood up, pulling the tape and cloths from their mouths, and rubbing their red wrists where the bonds had cut into them.

Valerie handed both of them their security uniforms. The women stared blankly.

“Go on, ladies. Dress yourselves.”

As Heather and Millie wiggled back into the tights, shirts, pants, and boots that had been stolen from them earlier that night, Valerie watched silently.

Camille detected a couple of other presences in the van. Soft moaning, accompanied by the faint rustle of nylon.

When they had finished redressing, she spoke.

“Now, ladies, I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson from tonight’s experience. And I sincerely hope you’ll put more work in your security jobs from now on.” Her voice got low. “Because if you don’t… If I see you continuing to display the incompetence I saw tonight, my friend and I will be back. We will bind, gag, and replace you every night, until you learn how to do your jobs. Is that clear?”

Heather and Millie slowly nodded.

“Good. Go back to your posts.” Valerie dismissed the two women with a wave of her hand.

After the shaken guards had left, Amanda turned to Valerie. “Are we really going to have to keep replacing them? Don’t get me wrong, I love stripping tough-looking women as much as the next girl, but… every night?”

“I doubt we’ll need to,” Valerie replied. “But there’s always room for a ‘just in case’…”

She opened the back door of the van and shined a flashlight inside.

Camille squinted. Then she gasped. Lying next to her were Olga and Isla, gagged and bound together in what appeared to be a rather intimate position. Camille suddenly realized where the soft gasps she had heard were coming from.

“Having fun, girls?” Amanda smiled.

Olga and Isla abruptly stopped, embarrassed.

“Sorry to startle you,” Amanda continued, “but we need some information. Like, why did you…” she turned to Camille, “arrange for us to be ambushed by these two?” She gestured at Olga and Isla.

Camille spat. “Go to hell.”

Amanda grinned mischievously. “Not willing to cooperate, eh? Trust me, sweetheart… I’ve made some of the toughest female criminals in the country beg for mercy. How long do you think you’ll last?”

Camille watched as Amanda drew a long, thin albatross feather from her jacket. “Found this in the back lot of the nearby aviary,” she said. “I thought you might want to have a look.”

So saying, she very slowly drew the tip of the feather across the sole of Camille’s bare foot.

Camille tried to suppress herself, but it was no use. The feather was worse than any torture device she could imagine. She moaned into her gag until her eyes began to water.

“Had enough yet?” Amanda asked brightly. “No? All right, then… Let’s see if some itching powder will do the trick…”

It was at that moment that Valerie’s phone beeped. She glanced at the text.

Amanda had forced open the waistband of Camille’s white panties and was prepared to dump the entire contents of her packet of itching powder right between the sweating girl’s legs when Valerie broke in.

“Amanda? We’re needed back at the office. I’ve still got to write up that paper, and you need to reserve a spot for that museum security assignment within the next fifteen minutes.”

Amanda looked a little disappointed, but then smiled at the fearful Camille. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll have plenty of time to play when I come back.” She spoke gleefully, but with an edge of malice in her voice.

Valerie and Amanda locked the van’s back doors. Their footsteps faded into the distance.

Silence reined the inside of the hot, musty van... or it would, if not for the constant squirming and gasping from the well-bound pair on the floor. Camille shut her eyes and tried to think. She needed to get free… and she would.

Carefully, consciously, Camille began working at her bonds. No way would she be spending the rest of her life at the Women’s Correctional Facility.

[esercito sconfitto]

many thanks for resuming the story, interrupted in 2014, August ( and, YES, I forgot a part of the very last installment of yours)

[tirepanted2]

Brenda wheeled the cleaning cart down the long, narrow corridors of the medical facility’s lowest level. The lights were dim, and even with her acute nighttime perception, she was having difficulty making things out. However, as she rounded a corner, the problem of poor lighting immediately melted away.

Located before her was a lengthy hallway, with rows of seven-foot glass cylindrical tubes standing upright, lining both ends – ten on each side. Each tube was filled with a clear, gelatinous fluid, but more shockingly – each contained a woman. A naked woman was housed in each container, hooked up to tubes and breathing apparatuses which kept them alive, but which also seemed to be… enhancing them.

Brenda wondered how many of these women had been kidnapped – stolen from their lives and locked away in this horrific underground laboratory. She felt bad for them, and searched desperately for a way to free them for confinement.

As her eyes probed the room for a solution, they fell upon one girl in a tube at the far corner, encased in a gelatinous substance that seemed fresher than the others.

Mona.

Brenda stepped over to the tube. Yes, despite her gas mask and Princess Leia hairstyle, it was easy to recognize the captured bride-to-be. Brenda tapped on the glass, hoping to get a response, but received no such luck.

All at once, she heard voices. An elevator door pinged. Brenda dove for cover behind a console as footsteps approached.

Peeking out through the crack between two of the large computers, Brenda could see the receptionist and the two nurses from earlier stepping into view. The approached the cylinder holding Mona.

“That’s her,” the receptionist stated. “You can check her readings on the monitor if you like, but I’m afraid you can’t remove her from – aaaaauuuugggghhhh… mmmmppppphhhhhh…”

She was cut off by Tonya’s arm, which had suddenly wrapped itself around her throat in a professional sleeper hold. The woman struggled for a few seconds, but the strength of her assailant assured she could do little more than gurgle in protest. Thirty seconds and it was all over.

Tonya lowered the girl to the floor and began stripping her of her red blouse, black skirt, and shiny black heels. Sandra, meanwhile, had approached the tank holding Mona and used the nearby switchboard to drain the tank of its fluids. Then she flicked another switch, causing the glass surrounding the imprisoned Mona to rise up, freeing her.

Sandra ran up and removed the apparatuses from Mona’s naked body. The girl stirred. “There, there, honey… You’re safe now. Auntie Tonya and I are going to take care of you.” So saying, she used a towel to dry Mona off.

Tonya tossed Sandra the receptionist’s clothes. “Have her put these on. It’ll be easier than escorting her out of this base naked.”

Sandra dressed the barely lucid Mona in the well-fitting clothes, while Tonya bound, gagged, and crotch-roped their original owner, who was then safely stored inside a nearby locker.

Sandra lifted her phone to her ear. “Janine, we’re coming up. Have the car ready.” She, Tonya, and Mona left the room, heading for the elevator.

Brenda didn’t know who these women were, but she couldn’t let them get away with Mona. Still, the two women who had taken her looked like pretty tough customers. She couldn’t take them down on her own.

Brenda turned and raced up the stairs, intent on seeing her little escapade through to the end. She figured it would take some time for her two rivals to get the still-dazed Mona out of the building – time she could use to implement the next phase in her plan.

Janine stood by the black EMS vehicle, drumming her fingers on the hood. She wished she could have snuck into the heart of the base with Sandra and Tonya. She wasn’t afraid of all the soldiers – in fact, she reckoned she could take them all down on her own.

Janine smiled at the thought of besting the entire base. So wrapped up in her own thoughts was she, in fact, that she was unaware of the sound of footsteps quietly approaching from behind.

A swift karate chop to the neck, and Brenda caught the unconscious girl as she fell. She lowered her to the ground, already in the process of unbuttoning her black uniform.

When Janine awoke, she found herself in some bushes, bound and gagged and stripped down to her bra and panties. But that wasn’t what horrified her the most. No, it was the fact that the woman who now stood over her, casually buttoning up her stolen chauffeur’s uniform, was… the same woman who had stolen her other chauffeur’s uniform earlier that night!

Janine went ballistic, screaming vainly into her gag, shooting daggers at the woman who now stood smiling and tucking her hair beneath her uniform cap. For the first time ever, she truly wanted to commit murder.

Brenda did not recognize Janine, nor would she have cared to. She simply grinned at her safely hidden captive, turned her heel, and walked off, already in the process of getting into her new character.

Thirty seconds after the quick-thinking adventuress had taken her position at the wheel of the EMS, Sandra and Tonya approached, carrying Mona between them. They all piled into the back of the vehicle. “Drive,” Sandra commanded. Brenda was pleased that the cover of darkness around her ensured that the two “nurses” failed to notice the color change of their driver.

Smiling, Brenda hit the gas and headed for the vehicle exit. As she approached it, however, a pair of guards appeared to block it.

"Going somewhere, ladies?"

A dozen armed female guards surrounded the vehicle, each aiming a submachine gun at its occupants.

Brenda, Sandra, and Tonya raised their hands.

Tonya gazed oddly at Brenda. "Who the fuck are you?"

Brenda sighed.

*************

Shauna lay beneath her bed, a mummy wrapped in Scotch tape. Sweat clung to her body, trapped beneath the layers of restricting material.

But as she continued to lie there, struggling vehemently, she began to realize what a miracle her sweat was. It had dissolved and loosened the adhesive, making it easier and easier for her to slide out of her bonds. It took several slow, agonizing minutes, but soon the naked form of Shauna Stevens was now free.

Shauna lay on her bed gasping for several seconds, drying her sweaty form off with her bed sheet. Then she headed to the closet. She selected a blue set of bra and panties, as well as some white hold-up thigh-highs. A purple blouse and blue jeans went on over those, along with a pair of open-toed high heels. Now fully clothed, she sighed in relief.

“Time to call the police,” she said to herself.

She stepped into the living room… only to find a grinning, underwear-clad girl waiting for her.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” the young woman said with a smile. “Be even lovelier if you’d surrender your clothes without any fuss.”

Shauna couldn’t believe her continued streak of bad fortune that night… but she wasn’t going to take it any longer. With a roar, she lunged at the shapely intruder.

Swiftly, Camille sidestepped the amateurish move and dealt a swift blow to Shauna’s waist. The air shot out of the poor woman’s lungs, and she sank to the floor.

“Looks like you’re a wild one,” Camille murmured. “Well… I can handle that.”

She rummaged through Shauna’s drawers and closets, before finally discovering something she felt would do the trick.

Shauna awoke to find herself in a most uncomfortable position. She was fully encased in a tight grey nylon bodystocking – actually one of her own tights – that clung to her like a second skin. Her arms were folded over her chest, and her legs felt as though they had been fused into one. The only openings in the mercilessly tight encasing were two small eyeholes. Duct tape encased her lower jaw. Shauna was hung upside-down from her kitchen ceiling. Directly below her had been placed an array of sharp kitchen knives, their blades pointing up.

“I’m no gambler,” Camille laughed as she wriggled into Shauna’s clothes, “but I’m guessing you’ll be up there for a while.”

Once she had successfully disguised herself, straight down to a new pair of panties, Camille bid her captive adieu. “Don’t struggle, girl. It only makes the bondage uniform tighter.” She shut off the lights and left the room.

Shauna felt the blood rushing to her head. She began to sob softly.

***************

Allison made her way down to the basement of the medical compound. It had been easy to work past all the security checkpoints. In her sentinel uniform, no one thought twice about disobeying her orders, and opened every door so she could step through.

Now she was in the lowest level of the base, a large room filled with all sorts of science in the forms of computers and glassware. Allison paid them no heed, though… She was after one thing and one thing only.

She scanned the cylinders – nineteen in all, with a twentieth that had been opened. Allison gazed at the nineteen women trapped within with a mixture of horror and dismay. However, she also found a plan forming in her head… a plan to avenge the compound and the women within for all the stress they had caused her.

She stepped over to the console and flicked a few switches. The fluid drained from all nineteen cylinders, and the cylinders themselves slowly rose. Allison smiled.

“Looks like I’ve now got an army of my own,” she mused.

*****************

Brenda struggled against her bonds helplessly, but the ropes which bound her to the wooden chair refused to give.

The blonde Corporal watched her with a wicked smile. "Thought you could just waltz in here undetected, could you?" she grinned. "Stupid girl... I saw you free Mona on our security cameras. The moment you set foot in this base, you should have known you would never leave alive."

Brenda tried not to display any fear. She glared at the woman.

The Corporal's grin spread. "You've had quite an adventure tonight, haven't you, my dear? We found a bound-and-gagged guard outside the base, stripped of her uniform. And one of our scientists as well. Both claim they were attacked by some crazy black bitch. And I doubt they were alone..."

She leaned close to Brenda. "You're quite the determined lady, I'll give you that. And very smart and resourceful as well." Her eyes gleamed. "How would you like to work for me? You'd make a good henchwoman... I'll pay you handsomely."

Brenda scoffed. "You're insane."

The Corporal laughed. Then she grabbed Brenda's chin and propped it up. "Listen, girlie. The only reason I haven't put a bullet clean through your brain is that I see you have talent... Lots of talent. Now, either you let me utilize that talent, or..." She drew her finger across her throat. "...you get an early funeral."

She stood up, smiling. "I'll give you twenty minutes to think it over. If you haven't made up your mind by then, the two sentries I've stationed outside your door will shoot you dead. Sound like a plan?"

She exited, laughing.

By rights, Brenda was trapped. She had played her luck several times that night, and she'd probably not get another chance. A lesser woman would have given up by this point.

But Brenda remained strong. She had come too far to give up now. Carefully, she began thinking up a plan...

[rufusluciusivan]

My second Tirepanted story, and it has the same solid strengths than The Greatest Actress of All: length, variety of damsels and situations, colorful characters, great descriptions. I even feel that the syle has improved since The Greatest Actress of All.

The only thing that prevents it from being my favorite is the character of Allison. Not because she's a badly written character (she isn't). I just can't help but root against her in the story, especially since her establishing character moment is her locking up a woman to die of thirst because she suspects her of wanting to steal her daughter's necklace. But this isn't a flaw: it has nothing to do with the quality of the work, it's just my personal taste.

[tirepanted3]

Thanks for all your thoughts!

Allison is definitely one of the crueler characters I've written. She's not easy to root for, but I didn't intend her to be - she's a protective mother, but she has no real morals when it comes to getting what she wants. (As evidenced by the scene where she kills about a dozen armed guards and maintains her sense of humor.)

I actually had some difficulty finding a true heroine for this story at first. Most of the main characters are rather villainous, even setting aside their tendencies to steal other women's uniforms. Valerie and Amanda were the original key protagonists, but they proved somewhat difficult to develop (particularly Val, who is quite cold and emotionless in her work). I eventually decided on Brenda as the de facto hero - she's a fun character who grows and develops as the story progresses, from mischievous receptionist to determined adventuress. She' a minor character at first, but I grew to really enjoy writing for her.

[esercito sconfitto]

https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca88777 ... Jo6nXVETEg



https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca88777 ... MejP7qeOyg