Really? Hhmm I have a very distinct memory of reading a USB story of where in one scene a female clown got mugged for her costume. I remember it being quite hot, what am I thinking of then.
Haha I can see why, I wouldn't mind seeing a bit more of Delphine in the future, it'd be interesting to see if she thinks it's all still a joke, or maybe after she realized it isn't a joke, so Carla and Marla can both say "I told you so" ooorrrr maybe Delphine didn't mind it as much.
I'm certainly routing for Prema and Moira, I think its just because from where they don't exactly have the best of luck, you just can't help but cheer for them to carry on.
Hey, that'd make for an interesting twist. If that is the case are you hinting that Bobbi is going to come face to face with that second cyclist again and discover something interesting.
Haha, don't tell Linda it's all "uphill" as I don't think she'll be in the mood and above all else don't tell her....... Her next part will be as easy as "shooting fish in a barrel"...........
It is as I said before, this chapter was definitely worth the wait and I can assure you, no matter how long it takes for the next part, I'll be ready.
Trackman, you're probably thinking of the scene from Rufusluciusivan's "Final Gambits", where Presa, Yuna, and Cynthia mug a trio of clowns for their costumes (https://www.uniformstealingboard.com/vi ... 294#p14294). A very good scene, but not from one of my stories.
Delphine's character was introduced to be used for the joke, so I don't know if we'll see her again. I do think about bringing back Cara and Marla, but I also just feel sorry for them at this point.
I don't think the cyclist is going to appear again, I was just commenting on Bobbi's history with rude cyclists. I think of the scene from Volume 1 where she mugs the motorcycle rider as the moment where she first embraces her USB potential.
Oh yes I remember that scene very fondly. It was one of the highlights for me in "Final Gambits". But believe it or not I genuinely thought I'd seen a different scene somewhere else. Ah well nevermind I guess it was in my imagination haha.
I like it, it seems that Bobbi has a small habit of bumping into rude women that needs to be taught a lesson in manners. So cue the laser guided Karma that is Bobbi.
Ha! Ha! Apologies for being so late. Real life is leaving me with little energy, and more importantly motivation, to read and write as of late. I may be not very quick to react for a little while.
Good lines as always. To quote one: "Apologies, girls. But the American government requires the use of your clothing." Now that's one line I never thought I'd read one day.
The little touches of humour, wether they're related to Uniform Stealings or not, are always a nice plus, such as Nicole's and Rebecca's argument over who forgot the chloroform. Or Nicole's joke about her partner's underwear. I know it's objectively not true, but for the sake of the joke I'll still say that it's a sad to see that the FBI is more effective at mugging innocent persons than at stopping the criminals and keeping them locked up... Nicole seems to have a moment of lucidity when she mentions how often FBI teams end up as Uniform Stealers cannon fodder.
The continuity is also put at the service of the humour with Delphine's, Marla's and Cara's conversation. Apparently, they didn't quit quickly enough... Though I guess that in a way, it's also a good subtle way to reassure people about their fate. Being mugged is only a bad time to go through in this world. And the joke with Delphine thinking that it's just a weird hazing... So surreal that it's hilarious. That was weird indeed. Marina's comment at the end was just the icing on the cake. I guess that after a while, the people you mug become like aquaintances.
Bobbi's character development seems to be kickstarted, and I admit this is probably the part I'm looking for the most. As of late, she seemed to have mixed up 'being a tough girl' with 'wanton disregard' and 'unneeded brutality' during some of her uniform stealings, so I'm interested to see what will become of her.
Another detail I've spotted that gives your stories a plus is the casual way with which your heroines discuss the uniform stealing part of their jobs.
To sum up my thoughts: the humour was this part's strongest point.
Now, I'm waiting to see the infiltration(s) of the party.
Totally understandable that real life is keeping you busy. I'm the same way, which is why I don't get to post new chapters every week. Don't worry, feel free to comment when you can, I always appreciate your feedback.
The "government requires the use of your clothing" line is meant to show how the FBI agents are professional and polite when it comes to mugging civilians of their uniforms. A separation from the more villainous USBs in the series. The scene was also a good way to develop Nicole and Rebecca. I felt bad for the ways the FBI agents always wound up on the wrong end of the USB spectrum (as Nicole acknowledges), so it's been interesting to give them more of a chance to steal clothes themselves in this volume.
I'm glad people liked the Marla/Cara/Delphine sequence. Every time Cara and Marla get mugged, I try to one-up the previous sequence in humor, and Delphine helped with that.
Bobbi will remain an integral part of this story, despite her limited time in this chapter. All I'll say is she's got some more developments ahead.
The casual discussions about uniform stealings has been integral to my stories for years; many of these characters simply employ the tactic as a part of their daily job. I've always found that amusing, and of course it makes writing the USB scenes much easier when the characters are used to them.
I'm glad the humor is clicking. Don't worry, you won't have to wait long for the party (and infiltrations) to begin. Now that all the main characters are set up, we can move on to the centerpiece of the story...
Bridget stood and admired her reflection in the full-length mirror on her closet door.
Although she had shed a pound or two in the previous year, the dress was something of a tight fit. Still, Bridget admired the way the gown flattered her figure while still making her look put-together professional.
The dress was a deep blue sleeveless crêpe evening gown, with a bandage halter neck. It was decorated with sequins and rhinestones. A narrow slit in the skirt ran along the length of her right leg. Bridget wore two gold bracelets on her left wrist, and a silver wristwatch on her right. Her feet were adorned with black ankle-strap pumps. Her dark hair had been tied back into a tight bun, and silver teardrop earrings glistened from her earlobes.
She was absent-mindedly fiddling with her hair when the doorbell rang.
"Coming." Bridget gave herself one last look in the mirror before heading for the door.
She opened it to see a smiling Felicia. The young woman was dressed in a light green off-the-shoulder georgette gown. She sported a pearl necklace and matching pearl earrings, and wore a pair of dark green Louboutin high heels. Her red hair had been tied into a French braid updo.
"Felicia, you look stunning," Bridget smiled.
"You look better," Felicia immediately countered.
Bridget blushed. "You think so? I feel like this may be too much..."
"Trust me, you're perfect." Felicia stepped inside. "I know I'm early, but I just couldn't wait to see how you looked in the dress."
"Thanks again for getting it dry-cleaned." Bridget closed the door. "I hope it wasn't any trouble?"
"None at all. It was a pleasure." Felicia glanced around the apartment. "So... when are we heading for the Hall?"
"Pretty soon... Moira should be along pretty soon."
Felicia nodded. "Nice of you to invite her."
"She's really grown as a journalist in recent weeks, and I wanted her to share the glory." Bridget absent-mindedly brushed at a stray hair. "I also left a message with Bobbi, but... she's not picking up her phone."
Felicia nodded. "I also tried calling her about an hour ago - wanted to make up - but she didn't answer. Do you think she's okay?"
"Bobbi's a good girl," Bridget assured her "She's just... going through some things. Needs some time alone. When she wants to talk, we'll talk."
Felicia nodded. "You're right... Shame that she's gonna miss out on tonight's ceremony."
"It's definitely too bad. But I'll be sure to invite her to the next one." Bridget glanced at her watch. "Hope Moira doesn't take too long, though."
******************
Moira was indeed taking a while, though it wasn't entirely her own fault.
The past few hours had been eventful, even if she was only a passive observer. Following the evidence she had sent to her editor - and the police - Rucon Steel had been exposed for its shade and corruption. Cheryl Cambron had been arrested and led away in handcuffs, shouting obscenities and demanding a lawyer.
It was a humorous sight on the early evening news, and Moira wanted to laugh. But she still had troubles to contend with - Linda had apparently escaped from the van where she had been confined.
Moira couldn't understand it. Linda was gone - and so was the barrel she had been stuffed in. Moira could find no trace of either the woman nor her cylindrical compartment. Did she truly escape? And if so, why did she not make good on her vow to take Moira down? Had something else happened to her?
So many questions, yet Moira could not contend with answering all of them - especially not without sufficient evidence.
And when Bridget called her to inform her about the journalistic awards ceremony, Moira decided it would be a good way to take her mind off her worries.
She had donned her best dress - a pink formal one-shoulder chiffon trumpet gown with sequins and speckles. Her blonde hair was tied back in a pull-through braid, and small emeralds gleamed from her earlobes. She wore white slingback pumps and carried a pink handbag, the strap hooked in the crook of her elbow.
"Nice to look like a lady every now and then." She smiled at herself in the mirror.
Stepping out into the hall, she looked this way and that, half-expecting Linda to jump out at her.
Nothing happened. Moira gave a slight chuckle. Lighten up, girl. You've got nothing to be afraid of.
With that comforting thought in mind, she headed downstairs and set off in the direction of Bridget's apartment.
*******************
Chrysalis Hall was an extravagant venue, one of the classiest and most respected celebratory halls in South Florida. The building stood three stories tall, its centerpiece being a large auditorium with extravagant acoustics. The building further housed a fancy diner, complete with bar and buffet table. Most of the doors were carved of oaken wood, the waxed floors of solid marble, and the windows of finely etched crystal glass.
It had been a reliable place for events and entertainment for several decades, and seemed like an exquisite choice for the state's chapter of the National Journalism Society to host their annual gala commemoration. No expense had been spared to ensure that all involved would have a spectacular time.
One controversy had erupted early on, however, in part due to pressures from social media. For years, complaints had surfaced along the Internet that the nominees heavily favored male reporters and journalists. A female journalist had never won the top prize, and only a handful had ever ben nominated. Grumblings that the NJS had a bias against women reporters was reaching a boiling point.
To assuage some of the anger - after all, this year's ceremony again featured an abundance of male nominees - the Society decided to give more of a female focus to the proceedings. Although they could not easily change the nominees (which were picked by anonymous ballot), they made an organizing effort to hire more women for the event than in prior years. The catering service, the cooks, the cleaning staff - this year, all were almost entirely composed of women. There was also a female dancing troupe set to perform a musical number halfway through the evening.
Perhaps most notably, after years of relying on male security guards to police the events, the organizers announced a change - for the first time, they would be using all-female security staff. This initially proved complicated, as only five of the venue's regular security guards were women. They compensated for the deficiency by hiring outside help - a team of tough and capable guards from the freelance organization of Female-Exclusive Military Muscled Enforcement.
The move was met with wide praise from many activists, and the other controversy died down. It appeared that the event had avoided any trouble.
But another type of trouble was brewing - one that the event's organizers did not at all anticipate.
*********************
The setting sun had just disappeared over the horizon, giving way to a night sky speckled with bright stars.
Dr. Chen appreciated the darkness - it provided cover for the dark grey sedan she was now occupying. The vehicle was parked a block from the gala hall, but Chen could still see the building from a distance through the windshield.
A large black transit van passed by her car, headed for Chrysalis. The street was dark, but Chen could still see the letters "FEMME" embossed along the side door.
The van turned the corner and steered into the entrance of the underground parking lot of the gala hall. Dr. Chen smiled. The prey had entered the loin's den.
She spoke into her radio. "Is everyone ready?"
A brief but infinite silence. Then Cassandra's voice responded. "All teams ready, boss."
"Then get moving. Our time is limited."
She shut off the radio and returned to looking out the window.
"Mmmppphh!" The muffled sounds were coming from the trunk.
Chen smiled slyly. "Patience, Prema..." she said aloud. "You're not getting free, and no one is coming to save you. I've planned meticulously for this night, including multiple contingencies. Enjoy your time, while you can."
Inside the dark trunk, Prema struggled against her bonds, but they had been tied expertly. She sobbed into her gag. Bridget and her friends were in deadly danger - and she could do nothing to warn them. Nor could she even do anything to save herself...
**********************
The FEMME van pulled into the employee parking lot, its tires crunching on the aged gravel.
The extra security guards had arrived a bit early - the first guests were not expected for another twenty minutes. Still, FEMME trained its employees to work ahead of schedule, regardless of circumstance.
The van's driver, a tall and toned woman named Peggy, searched around for a suitable parking space to accommodate the oversized vehicle.
"Can't believe they didn't reserve us a parking space beforehand," one of her fellow guards grumbled from the rear of the van.
"Calm down, Kendra," another guard responded. "There's plenty of spaces along the far wall."
Peggy nodded. "Good eyes, Marlene."
Like the other three guards, Peggy wore the custom FEMME uniform of light grey button-down shirt with dark blue necktie, black pants, and shiny black loafers. The women also wore black baseball caps emblazoned with the company initials, and dark sunglasses. The uniform type had been chosen to avoid any feminine stereotypes - it helped make them look tougher than their male competitors.
As leader of her own little FEMME squad, Peggy kept an authoritative tone. The tan-skinned, hazel-eyed woman had short black hair that hung just above her shoulders. She was well-trained in various uses of weaponry and multiple forms of hand-to-hand combat.
The other guards in her unit were similarly trained. This included Kendra, a dark-skinned and athletic woman with crew-cut dyed pink hair; Colette, a blue-eyed, light-skinned blonde with her hair in a bob cut; and Marlene, a freckle-faced redhead with her hair done in a slim ponytail.
The four guards stepped out of the van and into the empty parking lot. Peggy checked her watch. "As expected, we're ahead of schedule... Still, it's best if we get upstairs quickly. Colette, see if you can find the elevator while the rest of us get our equipment in order."
"Roger that, boss," the blonde saluted.
Peggy gave her a funny look. "Um... At ease... We're not in the army."
Kendra and Marlene softly chuckled. Colette felt her cheeks turned red. "Sorry..."
"No prob. Just get moving."
The blonde nodded and quickly shuffled off.
That was embarrassing, she thought.
Colette had only joined FEMME the prior week, and this was her first big assignment. She approached the task - as with all things - professionally, but perhaps she was being a bit too professional.
She couldn't help it. A nagging worry kept eating at the back of her mind. What if she wasn't up to the task tonight? What if she screwed up? What if she ran into trouble while on duty and couldn't handle it?
Colette took a deep breath. She didn't want to stress herself out. She remembered her mother's oft-given advice: "Don't worry about other people doing better than you, sweetie. Remember, everyone puts their pants on the same way - one leg at a time."
She hadn't always known what her mother had meant by the expression, but it helped calm her nerves. She smiled to herself as she turned the corner.
A hand clamped over her mouth and the cold metal of a handgun was pressed against her left temple. She was pulled sharply into a shadowed alcove.
"Lost your way, dorogaya?" The woman's taunting voice had a modest Russian accent.
Colette felt her nerves tense up. She had been taken like an amateur.
"Mmpphh??" There was a clear quiver in her voice, even behind the hand that gagged her.
"I suppose you're trying to ask who I am, or what I want with you," the Russian woman replied. "The answer to the first question is unimportant... the answer to the second is... your uniform."
Colette swallowed. She had heard of stories like this on the news... security guards attacked and getting their clothes stolen. But she had dismissed these stories as silly rumors. And even if some of them were true, it was not like they could ever happen to her... Or so she had thought.
Sonja adjusted the gun against Colette's temple. "Tick-tock, little muffin. This is the last time I'll ask nicely."
Hands trembling, Colette reached up to her collar and began undoing her necktie. Then, one by one, she began unclasping the buttons on her shirt.
"No sudden movements," the woman ordered as Colette removed the shirt. "Now take those pants off, one leg at a time."
Colette winced.
Stay calm, stay calm... she told herself. Peggy and the girls will be along any minute... They'll take care of this woman.
*****************
Unfortunately for Colette, her teammates were about to have troubles of their own.
"Everything available?" Peggy asked Kendra.
The two women were now in the rear of the van, sorting through the guns and radios that they carried with them on every mission. Kendra had already combed through the van before they had set off on the drive, but Peggy insisted on routine equipment checks - it was an important step in ensuring their missions were smooth and orderly.
"All good," Kenda confirmed, handing her boss a pistol and set of cartridges. "They're not anticipating trouble tonight, but I brought extra ammo just in case."
"Smart thinking," Peggy nodded. "That's why we're the best at this."
Right outside the van, Marlene was tapping away at her phone. The young redhead was the computer whiz of the team, and was currently using her technical know-how to access the security camera feeds of the ceremonial hall on her phone. It was an easy way to keep tabs on any suspicious activity around the building.
"There we go." Marlene smiled as the security-cam footage popped up on her phone screen. She swiped along the screen to see various rooms of the hall, from the lobby to the auditorium to the kitchen.
One camera had its footage focused the underground parking lot. Marlene saw a slightly blurred image on the screen. In the corner of the lot, there appeared to be a woman staring at her phone. There was another woman, slowly creeping up on her from behind, holding a white rag.
Marlene squinted as she looked at the image. Who... wait a minute... Her eyes widened. That's me!
Before she could look up from her screen, the white rag was clamped over her face. Immediately, Marlene could detect the sweet scent emanating from the cloth. She didn't need her college degree to realize that she was being chloroformed.
"Hhmmmmhhhh!" She was pulled roughly backwards, dragged away from the van. The soft, feminine chuckle in her ear told her that her assailant was a woman. But Marlene was getting too dizzy to deduce anything else...
Inside the van, Peggy and Kendra finished loading their weapons.
"Come on, Marl," Peggy called out. "Let's get to work."
No answer. Peggy raised an eyebrow. "Marlene? You out there?"
She and Kendra poked their heads out of the van. The lot appeared empty.
"Marlene?" Peggy was growing a bit perplexed. "Colette? ...Anyone?"
"Yoo-hoo!" came a sing-songy voice from above them.
The two security officers turned their heads upward to see a figure crouching on the roof of their vehicle. The grinning woman had tanned skin and a ponytail of black hair, not to mention a mischievous look on her face.
"Hi, girls," she continued. "Mind if I... drop in?"
So saying, she flipped over and jumped down with both feet, hitting the two guards squarely on their heads. Peggy and Kendra grunted in unison. Then they both slumped out of the van, to the ground.
Marina landed nimbly beside them. "Now that's what I call putting my best foot forward," she mused.
Darla stepped out from behind a nearby support beam, clapping her hands in mock applause. "Nicely done, Mari. Do you rehearse your stand-up routine beforehand?"
Marina gave a mock bow. "Thank you, thank you. Drive home safely."
Darla smiled even as she rolled her eyes. Then she glanced at the two downed security guards. "Guess we'd better get those two squirreled away."
"So exciting," Marina replied. "Imagine, stealing a security guard's uniform! I haven't done that since..." She pretended to count on her fingers. "...oh yeah, last night."
"It makes sense, though," Darla countered, lifting Peggy by her armpits. "They're the most easily accessible uniforms for us to gain entry to the ceremony."
"I know, I know." Marina lifted Kendra as well. "But I've already mugged a zillion security guards for their outfits in the past. It's just gotten kinda boring."
Darla gave a bemused smile. "First Whitney complains... now you. Never thought I'd see Marina Serrati get bored of these infiltrations."
"Hey, I'm totally cool with infiltrations!" Marina laughed. "And I love mugging nurses, or maids, or dancing showgirls. But I think I need to take a break from security guards."
"Fair enough." Darla tossed the unconscious guard back into the rear of the van, then climbed in. "But for now, why not enjoy this one? It's been a while since you and I have stolen disguises together."
Marina nodded as she dragged the second guard into the van along with her. "Sounds fun. Just like old times."
And so it was. For the next several minutes, Darla and Marina stripped the two guards, chatting and laughing with one another all the while. For the two best friends, it was a bright and pleasant conversation - occasionally spiced up by Marina's silly puns. ("Guess these two are the real loafers," she remarked while they removed the women's shoes.)
Before long, the duo had stripped the guards down to their underwear. Kendra wore an orange T-shirt bra and dark blue cutoffs. Peggy was left in a tan cami top and black hiphuggers.
Marina and Darla began binding the women with white cables from the van, and gagging them with spare rolls of black hockey-stick tape. They worked at a leisurely pace, chatting all the while.
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a knock at the van's rear door.
Marina poked her head out. Standing there were an irritated-looking Chandra and Sonja, arms folded. They had already changed into the uniforms and caps of the other two FEMME guards.
"Well?" Chandra said impatiently. "Are you ready yet? What's taking so long?"
Marina gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Just having some girl talk."
"Can the chitchat and get dressed. This is a covert mission, not an episode of The View."
Marina saluted. "Oui, mon capitaine." She disappeared back inside the van.
Chandra and Sonja exchanged a bewildered look.
"Americans," Sonja sighed. "They take forever to do the simplest things."
Minutes later, though, Marina and Darla stepped out of the van, now fully disguised as FEMME guards.
"All righty." Darla adjusted the brim of her cap as she looked at Sonja and Chandra. "I'm guessing you two have also had experience posing as guards before?"
"We've done it a time or three," Chandra nodded. "You get used to it after a while."
"Boy, do we ever," Marina sighed.
Sonja retrieved the unconscious forms of Colette and Marlene, dragging them to the van. Both women had been bound with grey nylon rope and gagged with blue tape. Colette wore a silver-grey set of contour bra and panties; Marlene had a peppermint-striped sports bra and mauve boyshorts.
Sonja tossed the two guards into the rear of the van to join their friends, and Darla shut the doors.
"To the elevator, girls," Chandra ordered. "So far, so good."
****************
Kendall stared at the monitors with a mixture of disgust and horror. She was rooted to her seat as she watched the events unfold on the grainy screen before her.
The fair-skinned, redheaded young woman had been a guard at Chrysalis Hall for just under a year, and had held her position in the security room for nearly half that time. It was her job to watch the monitors, make sure that everything was running smoothly from wherever the cameras were filming. In her time at the job, Kendall had seen some strange things on the monitor - cats crawling around the kitchen, hobos seeking refuge near the dumpster - but nothing that truly disturbed her. Until now.
Now, she watched as a quartet of women - none of whom looked particularly friendly - loaded the back of a back FEMME van with four bound-and-gagged, underwear-clad women. The four laughing women were dressed in FEMME uniforms, and it was no great guess that they had stolen the clothes from the very women they were now concealing in the vehicle.
Across multiple boring nights and weeks spent staring at the screens, Kendall had grown restless. At times, she found herself hoping for some sort of criminal activity to occur in the hall. Something, anything, to break up the monotony. Well, she had finally gotten her wish.
The only downside was that she could do nothing about it.
For the reason Kendall was "rooted to her seat" had less to do with the suspenseful events occurring on the monitors and more to do with the fact that she was quite literally stuck to her red swivel chair. Several lengths of grey duct tape had been wound about her body, securing her arms to her sides and her back to the chair. More tape was wound about her legs, and a final strip covered her petite mouth. She had been reduced to a set of pink plunge bra and yellow bikini panties.
Kendall could simply struggle and stare helplessly at the screen, as several of the event's other guards were similarly incapacitated and locked away. Her cheeks burned; she had never felt so helpless and humiliated.
Cassandra walked up beside the bound-and-gagged guard, straightening her clothes. The tall black woman was now suited up in Kendall's blue button-down shirt, black suit pants with brown belt, lace-up short black boots, dark grey peaked cap, and sunglasses. She straightened the tie around her neck as she watched Darla, Marina, and friends on the screen.
"Fantastic," she smirked. "And they say there's nothing good on television these days."
"Mmmggghhhh!" Kendall's green eyes blazed as she glared at her assailant.
"Sounds like someone needs some quiet time," Cassandra remarked.
So saying, she pressed her boot against the back of the swivel chair and harshly shoved it toward the security room's closet. The wide-eyed Kendall was too stunned to react as she swiftly rolled into the cramped space, her legs bumping at a foul-smelling mop.
Cassandra shut the closet door, then picked up her private radio. "Whitney, do you read? The FEMME guards have been taken care of. How are you doing at your end?"
Whitney's voice came in, soft but clear. "We're on our way. Will be grabbing our own disguises any minute."
******************
Inside the large hall, two other security guards were preparing to make their rounds.
"Just make a selection already," Jocelyn urged.
"What's your hurry?" Gabriella responded. "We've still got time before the guests arrive."
"I know," Jocelyn sighed. "But I want to get something, too."
The guards were currently standing in a side hallway, in front of one of an old vending machine. It was traditional of them to grab a little snack before beginning their work. It was similarly traditional - much to Jocelyn's annoyance - for Gabriella to spend an unreasonable amount of time trying to choose which candy to pick.
"It's either a Kit-Kat or a Reese's," Gabriella muttered. "Or wait... maybe tonight's the night for a Mars bar?"
Jocelyn looked at her watch. "Honey, please..."
"Good idea... Maybe I'll get something honey-flavored."
Like Kendall, the two women were regular guards at Chrysalis Hall. They had similar uniforms and both carried a gun and radio. Jocelyn was tall and fit, with an almond skin tone and close-cropped brown hair; Gabriella was slightly shorter and pudgier, with light skin and curly blonde hair.
Jocelyn was just about to push her friend aside and select something herself, when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She smiled. "Well, well... hello, newbie."
Gabriella looked up at the newcomer with a teasing grin. "Wow... still got your uniform on, I see."
Ashley nodded, trying to hide the look of annoyance on her face.
"Hi, girls," she murmured, trying to keep her chin high.
"I was wondering, Ashley," Jocelyn asked, a gleeful sneer on her face. "What color underwear are you wearing today?"
"No need to ask," Gabriella interjected. "We'll certainly find out before the night is over."
Jocelyn laughed. "Righto! Someone should be 'borrowing' her uniform any minute now."
Ashley felt her cheeks burn. "It isn't funny, you two," she fumed. "Maybe you don't know what it's like to be mugged for your clothes, but you shouldn't make fun of those who had to go through it. It's... It's an awful experience."
"Poor baby," Jocelyn cooed. "Do you want a hug? Maybe a glass of warm milk to make you feel better?"
"I just can't believe you," Gabriella chuckled. "You keep going through this ordeal, yet you keep on working as a security guard. Are you a glutton for punishment?"
Ashley crossed her arms. "I like being a security guard. Maybe I've had a few mishaps in the past, but I learn from them."
"Seems like the only thing you learn is what the inside of a dark closet looks like," Jocelyn mused. "Nice try, amateur. You never learn."
Ashley turned and walked quickly away from the giggling pair, towards the rear exit of the building. She was fighting back tears, but she refused to let them see her cry.
"What a wimp," Jocelyn scoffed, watching Ashley turn the corner.
"Some people just aren't cut out for this job," Gabriella agreed. "Anyway, back to business. Do I want an Almond Joy, or a Three Musketeers?"
Jocelyn rolled her eyes as she watched her friend concentrate on the vending machine goodies. She was about to make another comment about it, when she was suddenly prevented from making any comments. Silent as the wind, a hand slid across her mouth and an arm wrapped around her shoulders.
The woman's grip was strong, and unrelenting. Jocelyn could do nothing but kick and struggle as she was dragged backwards toward a nearby closet. She tried waving frantically, hoping to catch Gabriella's attention.
But unluckily for her, Gabriella had her back turned, and was still staring intently at the food behind the glass. "Okay! I got it. Tonight's a good night for a Snickers."
She pulled a crisp fiver from her pocket. "Damn. And me without exact change. Hey, Jos, you got a dollar?"
No answer. Gabriella turned around. "Jocelyn? Where'd you go?"
"I'm afraid snack-time is over, babe."
Before Gabriella could turn to see who had said that, a karate blow struck her just below the right ear. With a soft moan, she slumped backwards into her assailant's waiting arms.
Whitney dragged the unconscious guard over to the closet, hauling her inside. The equally unconscious Jocelyn lay on the floor. Haleema knelt over her, currently in the process of separating her from her uniform.
Whitney shut the closet door for some privacy and deposited Gabriella on the floor as well. "Cannot believe these women are busy thinking about junk food. Don't they know what it does to their thighs?"
Haleema did not respond; she remained focused on the task at hand.
Whitney sighed as she began stripping Gabriella. "Do you... ever talk? Are you just shy or something?"
Haleema fixed her with a glare that indicated she was not, in fact, shy.
Whitney held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Didn't mean anything by it. I just... I like a little conversation during these infiltration jobs. Keeps things fresh and light, y'know?"
But as Haleema seemed bent on ignoring her, Whitney kept silent.
The guards had rather plain underwear. Jocelyn wore a white underwire bra and tan boyshorts. Gabriella had a grey sports bra and black control top - presumably to help her appear slimmer.
Haleema dragged the two women to the rear of the closet and secured them with a length of white rope. The gags were a couple of dark green washrags. She secured them in a seated position, back to back, to economize the binding material; after all, they would likely need some for later.
Whitney dressed in Gabriella's uniform, and was annoyed by how well it fit.
"I must have gained a couple of pounds in prison," she muttered.
Cassandra's voice sounded over the radio again. "Whitney, status update?"
Whitney picked up her radio. "All good, Cass. Two more uniforms acquired."
"Perfect," Cassandra relayed. "That means there's one security guard left... Lucinda will take care of her."
********************
Ashley stumbled out the back exit of the Chrysalis, wiping her eyes. She needed the fresh air... she needed a breath.
Jocelyn's words had stung - not least because there was a ring of truth to them. Though Ashley tried, and kept trying, to prove herself as worthy of the security guard profession, all she had done was make a fool of herself, over and over again.
She had only joined the Chrysalis security team a couple of days ago. Before that, she had spent a couple of years working at the NASA facility in South Florida. But that career choice had not gone well - as a security guard, she had been mugged and had her uniform stolen a total of three times in the past few months.
It had become almost comical, and by her third mugging, Ashley was beginning to regret ever taking the NASA post. She had even begun to hallucinate in her times of distress. Just a few days earlier, she had imagined a group of five women, dressed in blue-and-white soldier uniforms and tricornes, appearing and ungagging her, then abruptly vanishing from her sight.
At least... maybe it had been an hallucination. Ashley didn't trust her own mind anymore. She was preparing to quit, but the heads at NASA saved her the trouble by firing her.
Chrysalis had agreed to give her a job, in part because of the recent push at their latest hosting body to pick more female security guards. But her past humiliations were no secret, and she was already seen as a laughingstock by the other guards at Chrysalis.
And now she was trying to integrate herself into a new job, after being fired from her old one. Was it worth it? Did she really need all this hassle?
Ashley pulled a cigarette from her pocket and stuck it in her mouth. Then she remembered that she had left her matchbox in her locker.
Whatever. Ashley kept the cigarette in her mouth, half-hoping that it would light up on its own.
Standing there, in the back alley behind the looming hall, she was in the safest position. Indeed, even now, Ashely was being watched.
From the shadows behind a dumpster, Lucinda watched with anticipatory glee. The guard was a bit smaller than her, but she could make do. And according to the radio calls she had been receiving, all the other guards on the premises had been incapacitated. Only one left...
Quietly, Lucinda arose and began advancing toward the unsuspecting guard. She planned to subdue her quickly; after all, time was of the essence.
But something alerted Ashley. Perhaps it was a slight noise; perhaps a mild change in the breeze. Or maybe the repeated muggings had made her more paranoid to her surroundings.
Whatever the reason, Ashley turned around and locked eyes with Lucinda - who froze in her tracks.
"Who are you?" A suspicious Ashley reached toward her holster. Then she remembered she had left her gun just next to her matchbox, inside the locker.
Damn it. How can I be this big of a moron...
Lucinda tried to appear calm. "Terribly sorry, officer. I just got a bit lost... Perhaps you can help me? I'm trying to get downtown..."
Ashley's eyes narrowed. Even in the dim lighting, this woman looked familiar...
Then she gasped. "I know you."
Lucinda looked at her in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
Ashley started to tremble - less out of fear than anger. "You... you were with Dr. Chen. Last Wednesday, at the NASA base."
Lucinda blinked, trying to compose herself. How did this woman know...?
"You knocked me out," Ashley said, her voice growing angrier. "Tied me up, took my uniform. And you laughed."
Lucinda tried to stay calm. "You... have me confused with someone else."
"Like hell I do. I may have been bound and gagged, but I remember. You were arguing with your wife. Marianne, I think her name was..."
Lucinda felt her cheeks turn hot. "You bitch..."
"Or Meredith... yes, that was her name. A bit of a lovers' quarrel." Ashley glared at Lucinda. "Did you kiss and make up?"
Lucinda snarled and lunged at Ashley, tacking her to the ground. She pinned the guard to the pavement with a well-muscled arm.
"You have no right to speak her name." Lucinda's voice dripped with venom. "I should kill you for that."
Ashley felt a chilling fear as she gazed into the woman's blazing eyes... but she forced herself to stay strong. "You have no right... to steal my uniform."
"I have a right to steal whatever I want... from whomever I want," Lucinda said snidely. "I play by my own rules. And no one is going to stop m... uungh!"
She doubled up as Ashley abruptly kneed her in the stomach. Lucinda pitched groundward, moaning.
Ashley grinned as she watched Lucinda fall to the pavement. Yes! Score one for the good gal!
She grabbed Lucinda's arm and twisted it behind her back. The taller woman grunted in pain.
"You're not going anywhere," Ashley said authoritatively. "I'm calling the police, and..."
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the back door to the building swinging open, and the janitor strolling out, trash bag in hand.
It was only a brief, momentary distraction - but it was enough. Ashley looked up, and in that moment, took her attention off Lucinda - a dreadful mistake. The taller woman twisted free and dealt a swift punch to Ashley's face.
Ashley hit the ground, out cold. Lucinda smiled. "Idiot."
The janitor stared at the two women in shock and horror. Lucinda immediately locked eyes with the newcomer, and sized her up. The janitor was a tall woman in a dark grey button-down jumpsuit, green woolen cap, and black galoshes. She had light skin, hazel eyes, and shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair. And she appeared to be a closer size than the security guard.
Lucinda drank this information in within a matter of moments. She smiled craftily at the woman. "Well, hello there."
The janitress gulped. She dropped the garbage bag and turned to make a run for the doorway, but she wasn't fast enough. Lucinda jumped her and tackled her to the ground.
"You really helped me with that security guard," Lucinda grinned. "So I'll make this quick."
The woman had no time to react before Lucinda hit her hard with a neck chop. She shivered slightly, then fell unconscious.
Lucinda dragged the janitress and Ashley back behind the dumpster and got to work. She stripped the custodian down to her yellow bandeau bra and pink/lavender checkerboard panties. After a moment's consideration, Lucinda decided to strip Ashley, too - partly because she could tear the woman's clothes to strips for extra bondage material... and partly because she felt Ashley deserved a little extra humiliation.
Before long, Ashley had been stripped to her coral sports bra and orange boyshorts. Lucinda recalled that this was the same underwear she had worn the previous week at NASA. Lucinda fondly recalled that day... the fresh air... her wife's smile...
Lucinda forced herself to concentrate. Now was not the time for reminiscing. She tore Ashley's uniform to strips and fashioned the strips into strong binding material, which she used to bind the two women hand and foot. The remaining scraps of cloth were used as mouth packing and gags.
Lucinda had just finished hiding the two women behind the dumpster when her radio buzzed. "Luci, are you in position?" It was Cassandra. "The guests are starting to arrive."
Lucinda picked up her radio. "Yes, I'm almost ready. The final guard has been neutralized, but I had to find a different uniform to fit me. I'll be dressed and ready in a few minutes."
"Okay. Shake a leg."
Lucinda dressed quickly, shimmying her body into the grey jumpsuit and lacing up the boots. She pulled the woolen cap over her blonde hair, tucking it beneath, then dabbed a bit of grease on her cheek to give her disguise a note of authenticity. She knew the risk of being recognized by Bridget or her friends, and sought to minimize it as much as possible.
A noise from behind alerted her. Ashley was beginning to stir.
Lucinda watched as the security guard slowly awoke, becoming aware of her surroundings. "...Hmmmppphhh? Nnnmmmpppphhh..." She looked horrified.
Lucinda grinned maliciously at Ashley. "Poor girl... Always on the receiving end of a uniform theft. Get used to it, honey."
She turned heel and walked back to the metal door, slipping inside.
Ashley's cheeks burned. No! Not again... I can't let this happen again...
Jocelyn's words rang in her ears. "Nice try, amateur. You never learn."
Ashley began to struggle - ignoring the pain of the bonds biting into her wrists. She had to get free and stop these thugs... She had to...
********************
The first few guests filed into Chrysalis Hall, greeted warmly by the MC and directed to the coat check-in. Most of the guests were reporters, journalists, and their close friends and family. A few were unaffiliated spectators who had purchased tickets to the event. All, however, seemed ready for an enjoyable evening.
Well, almost all.
Robyn looked around the lobby, annoyed, as she stepped inside. "Well, here we are... another big ceremony where I get to pretend like I have a shot at winning."
"C'mon, Rob," her sister cajoled. "Don't be so negative. You're an amazing reporter. Maybe this is your year."
Robyn sighed. "You sound like this woman I met earlier today at the press office... Bridget something-or-other. She believes in the impossible, too."
"With a sour attitude like that..."
"I'm not being sour, Chloe," Robyn retorted. "I'm being realistic. I know I'm a great reporter, but these idiots will never acknowledge that."
"Well, then... why did you come? And why did you bring me along?" Chloe was trying to cheer her sister up, but Robyn didn't seem in the mood.
"Didn't have much else to do tonight, I guess."
Chloe sighed inwardly. The young woman had done up her light brown hair into a ponytail, and had helped Robyn arrange her blonde hair into a bun. Both wore long strapless evening gowns - pink for Robyn, green for Chloe - and matching heels. But the glamorous dresses couldn't do a thing to raise Robyn's low spirits.
Chloe saw a waiter pass by, holding a tray of shrimp. She plucked one off by its toothpick and offered it to her sister. "Hors d'oeuvre?"
Robyn made a face. "Yuck. I'm allergic to seafood."
"Sorry, sorry... I forgot..." Chloe quickly tossed the little entrée in the trash. "Let's... find our seats. Maybe you'll see some of your friends in the auditorium! Didn't you say your friend Nancy was on the invite list?"
"I guess." Robyn perked up, but only slightly. "She's usually early to these things. Not sure what's keeping her."
*******************
Nancy was indeed an early bird, typically arriving at events and appointments long before their scheduled times. It was her way of showing initiative - not to mention of helping herself get a good seat in the front row.
Tonight, however, Nancy's plans had been upended, by circumstances beyond her own control. She was usually good at planning for unforeseen obstacles, such as a flat tire or heavy traffic. But she had not planned for everything.
The evening had begun innocently enough - she and her friend and fellow journalist Celina had set off, preparing for a night of fun at the awards show ceremony. Sadly, neither woman would be attending any ceremonies that night.
Bella gave a little twirl, admiring the fit of her dress. "Well? How do I look?"
Parker looked up as she strapped on her heels. "Gorgeous. You'll knock 'em dead."
Bella laughed. "Only as a last resort."
The tan-skinned woman wore a long, seafoam-green strapless a-line gown with white speckles. Two silver bracelets hung loosely from her left wrist, and a pair of white Jimmy Choo designer pumps adorned her feet. Her dark hair had been tied back, and her bangs parted to the right side of her face.
Parker was clad in a purple mermaid gown with tulle sleeves and a tight hemline, plus a pair of black calve-length high-heeled sandal boots. Her black hair was arranged in a fashionable bowl cut.
Bella lifted the hem of her skirt, chuckling. "I feel like the leading lady in a James Bond movie." She had concealed her gun by strapping it to her left leg garter, beneath the folds of the skirt. "These undercover missions are fun."
"That they are," Parker nodded. "Though the women whose identities we borrow may tend to disagree."
So saying, she glanced into the open trunk of their nearby car, and at the two women who currently lay therein.
Nancy and Celina glared up at her. They had good reason to be cross - both women were currently bound with zip-ties and gagged with grey cloths. The tan-skinned, brown-haired Nancy wore a teal pushup bra and puce v-kini panties. The light-skinned, dark-haired Celina was reduced to a violet padded brassiere and magenta hiphuggers.
"We are truly sorry about this, girls," Parker offered. "Please try to understand..."
"Look on the bright side," Bella interrupted, smiling down at the two reporters. "When you get free, you'll have a terrific story to write! It's not every journalist who gets mugged by the FBI." She gave the moaning girls a coquettish wave and shut the trunk.
Parker gave Bella a strange look. "You enjoy it way too much."
"Enjoy what?"
"Mugging civilians for disguises. Why do you always have to tease them?"
"I'm just trying to lighten the mood," Bella explained. "These women always wake up so scared - when they find themselves tied up in their underwear, while someone else is wearing their clothes. I try to crack some jokes, cheer them up a little."
"They'd probably be more cheerful if they hadn't gotten their clothes stolen in the first place," Parker dryly observed.
"True enough... but some things can't be helped. We gotta focus on the mission." Bella glanced into a pocket mirror and attended to her hair. "It was our good fortune that we were able to hack into the computer logs of the Journalism Society and pull up the guest list... Locate a pair of reporters who were similar to us in size and appearance. Our coworkers didn't get so lucky."
Parker nodded. "Speaking of which, I'd better check in on them." She lifted the wrist-bracelet in which she'd concealed a small radio. "Josie, come in. We've got our disguises... Do you have yours?"
"Yes, almost. We'll be there soon." Josie clicked her radio off.
Then she turned to Eleanor and Rebecca. "You girls almost ready?"
Eleanor nodded. She and Rebecca were nearly finished buttoning up their uniforms.
The four women were currently standing in the employee lounge in the basement of Chrysalis Hall. Josie, Rebecca, and Eleanor were in the process of donning a trio of catering uniforms - cream-white button-down shirt, dark red vest and matching bowtie, black trousers, and polished black comfort shoes.
Nicole stood by the doorway, arms folded, impatiently tapping her foot. "I swear... there's never a good uniform around when I need one."
"We couldn't help it if there were only three caterers in the lounge when we snuck inside," Rebecca shrugged. "And none of them were quite your size. Sorry, hon."
Nicole rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm the patient type."
Rebecca snickered. "Sure."
"Enough, girls," Josie ordered. "This is a serious mission, and it demands a serious demeanor. If you're not up for that, you can go home now."
Nicole held up her hands in defense. "Hey, I'm fully committed to the job. I just need to get dressed, that's all."
At that moment, another caterer entered the lounge. The young woman had light skin and wavy dark blonde hair. "Hey, girls, what's taking you so long?" She looked around. "Hey, I don't recognize any of... hmmmpphh!"
Nicole clapped a chloroform pad over her mouth. "Oh, hush up and go to sleep."
The woman soon obeyed, albeit not very willingly. Once her struggles had ceased, Nicole lowered her to the ground and began unbuttoning her uniform.
"Make sure she's tied up and hidden with the others," Josie said, straightening her bowtie. "Meanwhile, the three of us should head upstairs. Don't want anyone getting suspicious about any missing waitresses."
"You go on ahead," Nicole nodded. "I'll take care of things here."
Josie headed for the door. Rebecca followed.
Eleanor followed as well, though she hung back for a moment, glancing at Nicole and the unconscious caterer she was currently stripping.
Nicole glanced up at her. "Is there a problem?"
"I dunno..." Eleanor pointed. "That woman's uniform... She's got a gravy stain on her collar."
"Okay..." Nicole looked at her quizzically.
"I'm just worried... If someone saw this woman with a gravy stain on her collar earlier... and now they see you walking around in a similar uniform with an identical stain... they might put two and two together."
Nicole scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. No one pays attention to the waitresses at these events. Besides, I'm not going to waste more time waiting for another woman my size to come along."
"Okay, okay... Just be careful." Eleanor gave a small smile and disappeared through the doorway.
Nicole finished stripping the waitress to her blue plunge bra and matching bikini panties, then used knotted cords and green duct tape to secure and silence her. Then she dragged the woman to the corner of the room, opening the closet door.
Inside the closet were the other three caterers, each stripped and secured in a similar fashion. Two of the women - a light-skinned brunette and a tan-skinned blonde - wore white T-shirt bras and tan boyshorts. The third, a fair-skinned redhead, had an olive-green sports bra and salmon-pink hipsters.
Nicole positioned the fourth waitress in a seated position between the brunette and the redhead, then shut the closet door. Then she hurried to catch up to her fellow agents.
*******************
The door knocked again. This time, Felicia answered.
Moira stood in the hallway, beaming. "Wow! I love your dress."
"Thanks," Felicia smiled back. "Yours is great, too. Who'd you steal it from?"
They both laughed. Bridget smiled as she approached the doorway, coat in hand.
"Very funny, girls... But tonight, we won't have any spy action or thrills. No disguises or infiltrations. No craziness at all."
"I hear that," Moira nodded as the three women stepped down the hallway.
"Can't wait for Bridget to win the top award," Felicia chimed in.
Bridget chuckled. "Thanks, Felishe, but I don't plan to win any awards tonight. I'll be happy with a quiet, pleasant evening with my friends."
The trio exited the building and headed for Bridget's car - little realizing the dangers that awaited them.
You know I love stories with a bunch of guards taken out, striped and tied up!
The on going Ashley story is so much fun. She does her best but ends up losing her uniform every time.
My favorite scene was the take out of Gabriella.
First off, I enjoyed the little touch that she was a bit on the pudgy side and was wearing panties to make herself look slimmer. As I have mentioned on other posts, that adds a bit of realism that is fun.
Then I love the fact that Gabriella is so engrossed in selecting her snack that she doesn't even notice Jocelyn being grabbed and dragged off right behind her.
Then there is the fun touch that Whitney is so sure she will have no problem dealing with Gabriella that she gives her presence away by saying something.
And I love the comment "I'm afraid snack-time is over, babe." Love the imagery of Gabriella starting to turn to see who spoke but before she can even turn around Whitney delivers a perfect karate chop to her neck just below her ear. The expert blow hits a vital nerve cluster and poor Gabriella is immediately knocked out. Guess it was a good old hit to the Vagus Nerve.
Then I love the idea of the now unconscious blonde falling back into Whitney's waiting arms. Love the description "With a soft moan, she slumped backwards into her assailant's waiting arms." Very sexy!
And of course the fun thought too is what was done to knock Jocelyn out. We see are dragged away but never learn how she was rendered unconscious. Fun to use your imagination!
I also really enjoyed the scene with Kendall. Being forced to watch the goings on while bound to her chair in her bra and panties. Then Cassandra sending her rolling into the closet!
Lighten up, girl. You've got nothing to be afraid of. OUCH! The irony of that statement was so painful, it actually hurt me. Now, Moira still hasn't apparently learned that you shall never tempt fate...
Bobbie's a nice girl, but on a dangerous path as shown by the casual disregard she showed towards the people she's mugging - such as the two she conked together in a previous story. I'm awaiting her next appearance.
Ultimately, a part that's building up nicely the upcoming climax by showing the two teams out for Bridget's head (Chen's and the FBI) preparing themselves. I'm anticipating a three-way confrontation. This kind of configuration is the best advantage of your conflicting storylines.
The setup of the setting (the Hall for the ceremony) of the next big part was well-done: first a little glimpse at the heroines's actions with a description of their clothes, then a justification of the fact that most members of the staff are females (always a nice detail) and an introduction of the Female-Exclusive Military Muscled Enforcement (FEMME I got it! ).
The takedowns were entertaining. They kinda have this classic 'mug the security team' flavour, though with nice little details here and there: such as Colette's inner-thoughts showing that she heard rumours of guards being mugged for disguise, or Marlene who witnesses her own mugging live. I agree with meditions: The little detail of Kendall being sent rolling into the closet was was a fun additon. In general, you took the time to give a good chunk of these guards a few lines to fleshen them out a little so that they don't feel like carbon copies of each other. It's always a plus.
As often, the banters between your uniform stealers are a pleasure to read, especially when they casually discuss their profession as if uniform stealing is a normal job or lightly (and not-so-lightly) jab at each other.
Adding the second part where guests and caterers are actually mugged too was a good idea to bring more variety. Once again, I appreciated the little detail of Chloe's and Robyn's conversation fleshening them out a little - as well as poor Nancy who was already mugged. Bella's line was perfect. "When you get free, you'll have a terrific story to write! It's not every journalist who gets mugged by the FBI." The FBI agents also have good banter.
Wasn't expecting Ashley to return in this configuration, but you certainly put her status of 'recurring victim' to good use. Good old humorous use at first with fellow guards teasing her about her recent strokes of bad luck. Plus, almost-instant karma for Jocelyn and Gabriella. But also good use in the sense that you gave her a little more depth. The scene with Lucinda was a nice call-back to her previous intervention, and a good way to show how Ashley (and by extension all victims of uniform stealings) felt about her predicament. Too bad for her that her moment of glory was wasted... Actually, for a gag-character, she had become surprisingly sympathetic during her last two appearances in your stories. I actually feel sorry for her. Though I admit I chuckled at the little detail of her underwear being the same as last time. (Thanks for the shot-out by the way. Looks like Ashley's endeavour was canon after all. Maybe. Though it would mean that, counting the time she was found by Yuka and Co, this is now Ashley's fifth mugging for disguise. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that Macha was also mugged five times before she became a full-fledged character. And the ending of her part implies that we haven't seen the last of her. Curious. ) Plus, it was a good character-moment for Lucinda. A way to remind that, in spite of her love for her wife, she's still a rotten person and a criminal.
I wanted to add a second comment because I forget to mention how much I liked the scene with Colette.
I love the fact that she was captured and forced to strip. What is fun (even though we don't see what was done to her) is that Sonja obviously went ahead and knocked the poor girl out even though she surrendered her uniform.
