" Always a Bridesmaid" by Tirepanted
Posted: Sat May 14, 2016 4:28 am
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…?”
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…?”
( and, YES, I forgot a part of the very last installment of yours)
