Uniform Stealing Board

Characters

Name ---- Role --- Description ---

Tarra Rogers --- High powered lawyer, part time undercover agent --- Brunette; slim; firm breasts

Felicity Welcome --- Nightclub owner and underworld figure --- Just forty; good figure; blonde set hair---

Nerida Welcome --- Felicity's bitch daughter --- Beautiful; blonde; long legged---

Anouk and Warren --- Felicity's minders ... Anouk, an Indian woman; Warren a big man

Jacqueline Kilmour ------ Professional hitwoman --- Six foot two; strong, lithe and mean

Mayor Tarrant ---- City mayor --- Handsome

Captain Sonya Redfern --- Honest policewoman, and Tarra's friend Glossy black hair; big full breasts and hips; trim waist

Lieutenant Sara Sugg --- A corrupt policewoman --- Curly black hair; acne on cheeks; a bit soft waisted; good breasts

Officer Winsome Ryan --- Another corrupt policewoman --- Pretty, slim blonde

Mr Mundine --- The man --- Unseen

Captain Natalie Good --- Water taxi owner --- About 37; strong, tough; statuesque curves; thick chestnut hair



Tarra Rogers and the Burnt Building

Chapter One.

In which the scene is set and Tarra gets into a tangle



"You need to read the document more carefully", the beautiful young woman sitting across the table said patronisingly.

Police Captain Sonya Redfern surged with rage. She knew it wasn't her place to speak and she managed to keep quiet but it was an effort listening to a snotty twenty something laying down the law to mayor Paul Tarrant like that.

The problem was that Nerida Welcome was right. She and her damn mother Felicity had the paperwork nailed down. There was no way mayor Tarrant could close down their filthy nightclub, The Scene.

The mother was a looker, but also a hard case who had been around. Nerida was not only stunningly attractive with long blonde hair, firm full breasts, shapely waist and hips, and long long legs. She had also been put through law school by mummy and that seemed to have paid off.

Captain Redfern's breast swelled her blue uniform shirt with righteous indignation. She couldn't bear to listen to the rest of the meeting. Instead as things were wound up she pictured one of her patrol officers bringing Miss Nerida Welcome in, handcuffed, to be put in the cells. She might search the girl herself. Strip that expensive jersey dress off her round butt and maybe, just maybe if there was some resisting of the arrest, she might land a slap or two on those arse cheeks. She was thinking of the girl's bottom because that was what she was looking at as Nerida and Felicity haughtily left the room. Nerida had the smoothly strutting hip wiggling walk to go with her looks. They must have sent her to model school as well as law school, Sonya thought.

"Come mother, we don't need to tell these buffoons any more", Nerida had said as her final summing up.

Felicity Welcome had smirked at her daughter's cleverness, nodded briskly at the mayor, and the two of them and their backups had headed for the door. It had been a short and humiliating meeting.

Mayor Paul Tarrant scowled. "There you are", he growled, as the door shut behind the Welcomes. "They can afford better lawyers than the city. We can't do anything about their goddamn club."

He let his eyes rove over the police Captain and relaxed slightly. He loved the way she filled her blouse. Glossy black hair, cut so the thick locks just brushed her collar. Her strong womanly shoulders, breasts filling out the pintucking and beading, tapering down to a slender waist. If she had worn a skirt it would have been perfect, but even in woollen police issue slacks the flare of her hips from the wide leather belt was like heaven. The fly and legs of the pants snugged round her groin. She had to have great legs; somehow the thighs looked firm even through the material. The glossy brown riding boots finished it off. It was a pity she was leaving ... he should invite her into his private office ... but no ... so far it was strictly business between them.

Captain Redfern went straight from city hall to her exclusive private gym. It was a perk, part of her salary package. In the change room she found her friend Tarra Rogers. Tarra was a lawyer too. Corporate law. And she had worked for the FBI as an agent. An idea began to form in Sonya's head. Her friend succeeded at everything she did - law school, her legal firm, her boyfriends. She was competitive and tough. She was a risk taker.

As she chatted to Tarra she let her frank gaze take in the lissome brunette's body. Tarra was naked. She had perky beasts not large or heavy but wide swellings of womanly promise. She had a lovely smooth round tummy curving into her thatch of pubic hair, and long firm flanks. When she bent to pull on her leotard her firm bottom rounded sweetly. Captain Sonya stripped off her own uniform. She was stronger looking than Tarra, but Tarra, though more lightly muscled, did look fit and firm. Sonya pulled on her own leotard. Still thinking her plan through she followed Tarra out into the gym.

While they were side by side on two exercise bikes she ran the story past the lovely lawyer. The nightclub, the most exclusive and swanky in the city. The ordinances that had been flouted. The girls exploited. And the suspicions of strange fates for some women who had run afoul of some unusual happenings there. There were stories that girls had been auctioned to middle easterners.

Just as she had thought, Tarra agreed that direct action was called for. And Tarra, unprompted, volunteered to go in undercover.

"I'll take a look", Tarra offered.

Danger lay ahead, but the plucky lawyer was intrigued. She had been trained at the FBI for undercover work before she had gone into the big corporate law firm. And she had met Nerida Welcome and not liked her at all.

"I'll swear you in as a special investigator", Sonya said. "Now here is the plan."



meanwhile, at the club ...

Felicity and Nerida Welcome were in the office at the back of the nightclub. The mother and daughter were watching one of the club's video monitors. The staff didn't know it but they were always under surveillance. At this moment on screen a pretty blonde in a very short skirt and a revealing top was talking to a well dressed young man.

Kelly Martin was really impressed by her companion. He was handsome and charming. His name was Ted Seaforth. Kelly thought it was a nice sounding name. The lovely young girl was paying her way through her Physiotherapy course and her current job was in The Scene nightclub. It was a funny job, but well paying. It skirted close to the unseemly, but Kelly needed the money. The job was to be available at the club, to let men order her drinks, to help maximise the bar take.

Kelly was right for the job. The little top (from the club's wardrobe) showed her swelling cleavage, and that and the gleam on the nylons cladding her long legs as they poked from that short skirt that barely covered her tush got her plenty of attention. The club did her blond hairdo, and their makeup brought out her high cheekbones. But Kelly was getting involved with her companion. He was so sweet. She shifted and rubbed her thighs together as he murmured to her. She could feel herself moistening down there between her legs. She had never let any of the customers get to her before but somehow this attentive young man did. Unfortunately she had forgotten her deal with the club - that deal was, no mention of the deal to any club member. And somehow, as she giggled and flirted, Kelly found that she was letting Ted in on the secret. She was telling him know what was going on, as a way of letting him know how interested in him she really was.

"She has blown it", Nerida snarled to her mother. The slim blonde clenched her fists. "I'll have to deal with her", she snapped.



Felicity looked coolly at her daughter. Sometimes she regretted letting the little strumpet get so full of herself. She had had it easy. Nerida's dad had checked out of the picture long ago. Felicity, who had got rich by her own talent, hard work and lack of scruples, had given Nerida everything on a plate. And Nerida took perverted pleasure in 'dealing' with pretty girls who broke their contracts. Still, she is my only child, Felicity thought indulgently.

A few minutes later Kelly Martin stepped into the hall leading to the ladies' room. There was a faint noise behind her. She started to turn, then strong hands grabbed her wrists and twisted her arms into an armbar. The pressure brought her to her toes. She was being turned; she was being hustled off the other way from the ladies room, down some stairs. She tried to turn and see who was holding her so painfully; but the large hands holding her took both her wrists in one hand and the other gripped her long blond hair and pulled it harshly. It kept her head turned to the front.

"Ouch, you're hurting me, what are you doing", she protested. Somehow, right off the bat, Kelly knew she was in trouble with the management.

The noise from the club back up the stairs and down the hall was a muffled background that she just knew made calling for help impossible. The plush carpet and textured wallpaper was the same as the rest of the club but she had never been down these stairs before. Her captor pushed her through a doorway, into a bright pool of light. Standing in the dimness beyond was Nerida.

Kelly was frightened now. "Let me go. What is going on?" she protested. She had only seen Nerida Welcome once, when she was interviewed for her job. She felt guilty. She had been talking about the club too much to her handsome Mr Maybe. Even as she bluffed and protested she felt as if she had been caught doing something wrong at school. The door closed behind her with a scaringly solid thud. The room felt hermetically sealed. There were no windows. Kelly knew screaming was no use.

"Just let me go", she said. She tried to maintain her dignity. "You have no right to treat an employee like this", she told Nerida bravely. "If you stop this now I won't bring any complaint against you."

"Shut her up", Nerida commanded.

The hand holding Kelly's blond hair pulled her head back and sideways. The armbar was twisted harder. As Kelly arched her back and her stomach bowed forward another woman stepped into her view. This woman looked like an Indian. She had dark skin and a hard wide face. Unlike the club girls she was dressed in coverup type clothes; black jeans and a dark roll neck sweater. She swung her arm and her stiff fingers jolted into Kelly's soft round stomach. Kelly spasmed in pain but the hold on her arms kept her arched back.

"Oouff!", she ejected as the wind was knocked out of her. She gasped for breath. As her red lips opened the Indian woman clinically pushed a wadded up scarf into her mouth.

"Huummpphh!", Kelly protested, "Lemth meeth ggth".

The Indian crammed more cloth into Kelly's mouth. The brown hands produced a leather cord which was knotted in a cruelly tight tie pulling the gag in. It hurt the corners of Kelly's full mouth. The woman knotted it behind her head, under her hair.

Kelly tried to speak again but nothing intelligible would come out. She was angry and frightened and out of breath but still she kicked back at the person holding her arms. Her hair was no longer being pulled so she butted her head back. There was a masculine chuckle behind her and her arms were twisted. She kicked again. Her shoe fell off. Now she was lopsided, one foot in stockings and the other still in the glossy black high heeled pump.



meanwhile, Tarra had been busy ...

Tarra had wasted no time getting to The Scene. . Because the club was downtown close to the gym and police headquarters she had decided to go into action on her own. She was dressed in a wellcut maroon wool suit that she sometimes wore to work, sometimes to cocktails. In the upper inner pocket was the 32 calibre automatic that Sonya Redfern had issued her at police headquarters. Its butt nuzzled against the side of her left breast. Tarra had swept through the main bar, out through the back, into the ladies, giving the place the quick once over. Coming out she had been just in time to see a large man hustling a blonde girl off down some stairs.

She had let them get halfway down and then cautiously followed.

Inside the downstairs room Nerida Welcome smiled nastily at the captive Kelly. Nerida was enjoying this, her heart rate had raised. Kelly struggled helplessly. Nerida loved the muffled unintelligible sounds coming from the young woman's gagged lips. Nerida's excitement rose.

"This is because you were blabbing our club secrets to your boy friend", she said.

She paused, gloating. Then, "Strip her", she ordered.

"No", Kelly thought, but all that came out was "nnmmp". She tried to imagine where the man holding her was standing and then, aiming to land a dislocating heel on his knee she raised her leg, the one with the shoeless foot, and stamped back at knee height. The man was too quick. Again only one hand was imprisoning her wrists. The other caught her by the ankle. Now she was standing on one leg. She hopped to keep her balance. The Indian woman impassively grabbed the waist of Kelly's short skirt and pulled it down over Kelly's hips. She rucked the little top up to Kelly's armpits. Then she grabbed one of Kelly's arms and pulled it through the armhole. She was so strong. Kelly writhed and pulled but to no avail. Her skirt was hanging below her thighs, dangling from the knee on the leg that was caught in the man's hand. She hopped again. The Indian woman returned that arm to the man's grip and did the same to Kelly's other arm. Then she pulled the top over Kelly's head. The skirt came off one leg at a time. Even in this predicament Kelly noticed that they hadn't ripped her uniform. They were just treating her struggles with disdain, handling her easily. Twisting her here and there as they stripped her. Her pantyhose had gone. They stopped there, but Kelly was still extremely embarrassed to be so humiliatingly stripped down to her undies like that.

Now the strong Indian woman had one arm and the man the other. They held her at attention by twisting her arms. Nerida inspected her. Kelly was wearing only her panties and bra, both pretty white lacy cotton. Her panties were low cut and her bra was an underslung uplifting support that presented her breasts so sweetly.

Nerida put her hand on Kelly's breast and gave it a gentle caress. It scared Kelly more than the assault had done. She grunted. Nerida teased her nipple. It stood erect and poked through her bra material. Nerida nodded to the two holding her.

The grip on her arms altered and for the first time she saw the man who had grabbed her. He was big. It must be only the Indian holding her arms now, but they ached from the armbar and she felt weak. The man crossed the room. In his hand was a bundle of white cord. Kelly didn't realise what was about to happen until her wrists were forced together, back to back and the cord was being expertly wound around them. She hadn't been tied since playing cowboys with her brother, but this wasn't like that anyway, this was tight. She pulled at her wrists but there was no give. She realised that she was totally helpless.

More cord went round her arms just above her elbows and it was pulled so hard that her elbows were all but touching. "MMpphh, ggrrmph", Kelly protested.

Her legs were tied fiercely above the knee and at the ankles. She was picked up by the upper arms and dragged into the pool of light. Then Nerida herself took a long rope and tied it to the wrist bindings. She stepped in front of Kelly and deliberately showing the captive college girl what she was doing she ran the rope over a stout hook in a beam in the ceiling and pulled it tight. Kelly's bound arms were pulled up behind her. As the rope tightened she had to bend at the waist, further and further. Nerida ran the rope round the cords at Kelly's elbows and tied it off at her wrists.

All this time Felicity Welcome was sitting in an upright chair in the shadows watching. Warren and Anouk had done a good professional job, as she paid them to do of course. The girl was tied tighter than a beetle in a spider's web. She had looked up the girl's file - Kelly Martin. She would be regretting her big mouth now. She was quite a looker. She had a good body, revealed in the frilly panties and bra. Felicity decided that as a Physiotherapist she must know how to massage. That could be put to good use in a certain type of parlour.

The part of Nerida's personality that worried her mother showed now.

The captive was immobilised and quite helpless but now Nerida was letting her kinkiness show. Felicity could see the heightened color round Nerida's lips. She could tell that Warren had noticed too. Nerida had taken another long rope and knotted it round Kelly's knees. She was enjoying herself. She looped the rope through another hook in the floor and tugged the rope so that Kelly had to bend at the knees. The twin opposing strains, that pulling her arms upwards and the new one bending her legs and pulling her thighs downwards really made the college girl's bottom stick out. Then Nerida picked up the high heeled pumps and made Kelly step into them. She finished immobilising the pretty young blond captive by knotting her ankles back to a floor hook behind, and tying a short cord from Kelly's gag behind her head back to the ceiling rope so that her face was raised.

The sweet round swelling of Kelly's butt was just begging for attention. Nerida had a riding crop now. She looked a little flushed. Kelly could not see what was coming.

Swish! Crack! The riding crop cut into Kelly's bottom. The pretty coed, wearing nothing but her white panties and bra and the high heeled pumps was soon sobbing in her bondage. Nerida was breathing heavily. She gave the girl ten good cuts with the crop. From the bottom down to the upper thigh she laid searing welts on the helpless girl.

Kelly's butt was burning with stinging pain. Real tears were running down her pretty face. Only muffled grunts emerged from her gag.



meanwhile, outside the door ...

Tarra could recognise the sounds. The muffled gasps and the cracks. The girl that she had seen being hustled off was getting spanked.

Tarra straightened up. She decided to go to the rescue and put her hand on the butt of her 32. She pulled it out, swung the door open, and stepped into the room, one stride, two, three.

"Stop that", she shouted. The gun was steady in her hand.

Nerida froze, with the riding crop in mid air. Kelly kept sobbing. The big man moved slightly towards Tarra but stopped when she aimed the gun at his belly. The Indian woman stood still.

"Ok, back against the wall, hands up where I can see them", Tarra said levelly.

Behind her Felicity raised her arm.

The man leered at Tarra. She began to gesture at him, but then a stunning blow hit her on the right temple. A bright light exploded in her head. The gun fell to the ground and Tarra folded at the knees and collapsed, out of it.

This time it was the businesslike Felicity who took charge. In a few moments Warren and Anouk had Tarra hogtied. They stuffed her mouth with a silk scarf and gagged her with duct tape. Felicity went through the fallen lawyer's handbag.

"Something is going on", she said. "Warren, Anouk, are you sure she can't get untied? Come on, up to the office then".

They left.

Tarra lay on the floor in a tight hogtie, gagged with duct tape, on her belly. As a final touch Warren had fastened her throat to one of the ground hooks. She was still unconscious. Her upturned handbag lay beside her. Kelly couldn't move. The stinging pain on her bottom was slowly fading. The door thudded behind the mother and daughter and their muscle. The two captives were alone.



Tarra Rogers and the Burnt Building

Chapter Two.

In which an old friend appears; Tarra turns the tables on one of her captors; a sea captain learns a hard lesson



It was a big day for Jacqueline Kilmour. After the affair of the Mistaken Identity the law hadn't been able to pin Dr. Mia Lampton's kidnapping on our old friend, the professional hitwoman. They had got her on various misdemeanors, however, and the judge had put her in the big house for six months. No one inside had bothered her but she was still glad that her release date had arrived. They gave her her street clothes and a bag of belongings. She changed in the little grey room and then into the air, and out the gates. Free. She stood still, savouring the moment.

Across the street from the jail, sitting in a squad car, Lt. Sara Sugg and officer Winsome Ryan watched Kilmour. The released convict was a powerful woman, about six foot two, with big shoulders and a deep chest. Her hair had been cut short inside. She began walking. She looked supple and athletic.

"I don't think that I'd take her on, one on one", Lt Sara Sugg said thoughtfully.

"No", agreed Winsome.

"She's a killer, you know", Sugg added.

The crooked police lieutenant was edgy about this. However she had started taking payoffs from The Man, Mr Mundine and now he wanted Kilmour turned loose on the Welcomes. Mundine had so much on her that Sugg had to deliver. She had picked Winsome Ryan to come with her because she had been gradually turning and compromising the pretty young recruit for the last few months. Today Ryan could hand over some cash, and that was it, she too would be on the team.

She waited a few more moments, then started the squad car and drove up beside the smooth striding Kilmour. Sugg wound down the window.

"OK Kilmour, get in", she said.

Jacqueline Kilmour didn't even blink. She opened the door and slipped inside. On the way into town Sara Sugg gave Kilmour a way to avoid police attention. She told the releasee about The Scene nightclub. Subtly she let Kilmour know that bygones could be bygones if Kilmour paid a little professional attention to the Welcomes' operations and then got out of town. She gave Kilmour to understand that her felony records would somehow erase themselves from the police computers if The Scene closed suddenly and unexpectedly.

"That goes for whatever reason it gets closed", she said. "And there won't be much investigation into the closure."

They had reached the docks. Sara stopped the car. "Off you go", she said. Kilmour got out.

"I need money", she said.

Officer Winsome Ryan's heart fluttered, but she took the envelope from Lt. Sugg and handed it to the killer. She knew that she had crossed the line, that she was no longer an honest cop. She felt a little like crying. Silently Jacqueline Kilmour headed off towards the wharves.

meanwhile, Tarra comes to ...

Tarra's head ached. She tried to move her hand to hold her aching temple. Nothing doing. Her whole body was stiff. As she came fully to consciousness she realised that she was stringently bound in a fierce hogtie that had her ankles almost touching her wrists. Her back was painfully arched. She tried to lift her head but she was tied down to the floor by her neck. With her face sideways on the carpet she could see the high heeled, bound feet of that girl she had come to rescue. At least she herself had not been undressed. Her suit skirt was all rucked up though, crumpled high under her hips and thighs and she knew that under the tied arch of her calves her panty clad bottom was no doubt on display. As her head cleared she began to test her bonds, systematically tugging and twisting. She found that the cord round her neck could be slackened if she writhed closer to the tie off point. Slowly she hitched on breasts and belly towards it to gain some movement for her upper body.

Kelly Martin watched Tarra struggle on the floor. The pretty coed's bottom had almost stopped stinging. Only a dull warmth remained in each welt. Her arms were aching and her thighs were protesting at the strain of being tied in the squat in which she had been left. She could not turn her face down, but with some eye strain she could watch Tarra bellying along the floor.

When Tarra reached the hook to which her necktie had been snubbed she was thrilled to find that it was not a complete closed circle, but an open hook. She pushed at the cord with her mouth but the duct tape and scarf gag stopped her getting any purchase. She considered for a moment, then put her duct tape covered mouth on top of the steel hook and began to press strongly down. The fear of the hook bursting the roof of her mouth was unsettling but she kept at it and finally the tape began to loosen. By the time she had got the tape split, then burst and the scarf spat, out her chest was heaving with exertion.

Once her lips were free she used her strong white teeth to get the neck cord off the hook. She lay panting for a few minutes, then began her breast and belly lift and push, lift and push towards Kelly.

The hogtie had left Tarra's fingers and thumbs free. Although her wrists were tightly bound she was able to locate the ties holding Kelly's thighs, ankles and arm ropes to the floor and unhook them. With Kelly able to move Tarra got her fingers to the knots at the college girl's wrists. It seemed to take forever, although it was probably only half an hour or so until Kelly's wrists were free.

The girl untied Tarra's wrists in turn and soon after that they were both standing and flexing, trying to get the circulation back into their limbs. The leather cord holding Kelly's gag into her mouth had shrunk tight and Tarra used her nail file to cut it free.

The well spanked Physiotherapy student found her skirt and top and began to dress herself. She left her pantyhose off and wherever the skirt brushed against her bottom and thighs the silky caress of the material seemed to sooth her stinging.

Tarra smoothed her own skirt down. She hunted around the room and could not find her gun. Suddenly there was a sound at the door. Kelly froze in the middle of the room, terrified, but Tarra took a grip of the hard wooden chair that Felicty Welcome had been sitting in.

The door handle turned.

The door opened.

Anouk stepped into the room. She saw Kelly, stepping into her skirt. The Indian's eyes widened. She bent at the waist, settling into a fighting stance but as she turned and saw Tarra the spunky lawyer raised the chair high over her head and then brought it slamming down into the Indian. It took Anouk across the head, neck and shoulders. As she staggered Tarra clenched both fists together and hit her a blow like a battle axe at the base of the skull. Anouk grunted and fell to the floor.

Tarra jumped onto her fallen body and twisted both her arms up her back, wrists to elbows, forearms together. Anouk struggled feebly, almost knocked out.

"Quick, rope", hissed Tarra at Kelly. Kelly brought a loop of white cord.

"Wrists to arms", Tarra said.

Kelly tied a tight knot round Anouk's right wrist then looped the cord around her left forearm just below her elbow. She did the same to the right wrist and left forearm. Tarra felt a whole lot happier with the powerful Indian at least partially tied. She grabbed another cord and finished her arms off, welding her wrists immovably to her arms and then tying tight loops all along the now inseparable forearms for their whole length.

The Indian was barely stirring. Tarra got off her back and briskly tied her ankles tightly together. She bent them back, even more savagely than her own had been and tied them to Anouk's arms. The woman's knees and thighs spread wide under the strain. She began to grunt and stir.

Kelly handed Tarra a scarf without a word. Tarra pulled Anouk's head up off the floor by her braided pigtail and forced the scarf into her still uncomprehending mouth. With a second scarf she completed a tight, firm cleave gag.

"On the desk", Tarra said to Kelly.

They picked Anouk up by her knees and shoulders and put her on the big heavy desk on one side of the room. Tarra rolled Anouk over onto her back so that she was lying on her hogtied arms and legs. Her own body weight made her thighs sprawl apart. By this time Anouk was conscious. She was glaring with fury at Tarra. Tarra laughed in her face. Then she tied her down to the desk by her upper arms, thighs and knees, and throat. Anouk was furious. She was pinned helplessly to the table like a fly in a spider's web.

Tarra found another scarf. She was starting to warm up to this. Folding it carefully she blindfolded Anouk. Then, because it amused her, she undid the Indian's jeans and unzipped them. She felt her captive stiffen. Pleased, Tarra tugged and worked the woman's jeans and panties down over her hips until they were wedged around her spread thighs. Then Tarra pulled the woman's sweater up over her breasts and tore her bra off. She took one more rope, knotted it around Anouk's belly and tied it, too, tightly to the desk.

Leaving Anouk like an offering on the desk, with her dark pubis and large breasts exposed in the pool of light, Tarra and the still fearful Kelly slipped out into the hall and closed the door.

meanwhile, at the docks ...

Jacqueline Kilmour had found her black leather catsuit in the storage locker, retrieved it and put it on. The iron pumping she had done in the prison gym made the suit feel tight around her shoulders and chest.

She went to pier 5, to get a water taxi across to the nightclub. She had decided to get this pissant job dispatched and get on with her life.

It was a fine windless day. The sun sparkled on the harbour. She found the water taxis and jumped onto the first one.

Captain Natalie Good was feeling pleased with life. She was sitting in her big powerful diesel cruiser with not a care in the world. The boat, the "Susan II" was big enough for offshore charters, plus manouverable enough for bread and butter water taxi work. It was paid off.

Natalie ran a tight ship. She kept her crew in line.

At the moment the crew was just Brendan, the young boat bum who cast on and off for her occasionally. He was washing down the foredeck. Natalie liked to keep him busy, doing something useful. Occasionally she and Brendan did something a little more enjoyable than useful, down in the cabin under the wheel house, but that was after hours, not on work time. Brendan seemed to like her big lush thirty year old curves and she liked to feel his skinny hard body against hers.

Natalie's pleasant musings were interrupted by a light thump. The boat pitched a little. Natalie looked around. A broad in a leather catsuit had jumped aboard. Natalie liked a polite approach from the wharf from her customers. This bitch was big, nearly as big as Natalie herself, and she looked mean.

"Hey, are you for hire or what? Take me to the downtown side", her catsuited passenger barked.

Natalie was annoyed. "Forty bucks, lady", she barked in her own tough voice.

"Ok", Jacqueline Kilmour answered.

Natalie kept her temper. A fare was a fare after all. She called out to Brendan and he cast off.

The big diesel motor fired and they headed out into the harbour.

Brendan was cute. He was young and lean and fit looking. The cruiser hadn't gone far before Jacqueline just had to give his arse a squeeze. He jumped nearly a mile in the air as the big woman slipped her caressing hand over his buttocks and caressed his balls. Jacqueline had been on the inside for a long time and she felt she deserved a feel of a nice young guy first chance she got.

Unfortunately Brendan took offence.

"Well stuff you too", Jacqueline answered. She pushed him away.

Captain Natalie Good saw the shove; saw Brendan almost hit the side rail. Natalie hadn't liked this passenger from the moment she had jumped on board.

"Brendan, take the wheel", she called. "Take us back to base, Brendan, I'm going to turn this bitch in to the water police" she announced.

Natalie was a big strong woman, used to boat work. She was bigger than her passenger and confident that she could take her if it came to that. She stepped up to Jacqueline Kilmour. Brendan had felt the steel in Jacqueline's arms and watched somewhat doubtfully. He knew that Captain Natalie could arm wrestle him or any crew man three out of five but he wasn't sure what was going to happen.

"You endangered my crewman", Natalie snapped at Kilmour. "I'm going to deal with you." Her strong arms were on her hips. Her peaked skipper's cap was tilted back on her head. She was wearing blue jeans, a striped tee shirt and leather boat shoes.

Jacqueline rose smoothly to her feet. Captain Good glared at her. The Captain was one tough boat woman, but she wasn't a fighting woman like Jacqueline.

The Captain thought they were still squaring up to one another, she expected a little huffing and puffing before a bit of push and shove. She was used to a roughhouse, had dealt with a few women in her time in tough catfights. But while she was still waiting for a few more words to be traded Jacqueline Kilmour hit her with a lightning fast closed fist punch right on the bridge of the nose.

Then before Captain Natalie Good even got her hands off her hips and up into fists, Jacqueline Kilmour stepped right into her and landed a set of fast and powerful punches to her solar plexus and belly. Jacqueline's fists sank deep into the Captain's mid section, knocking the wind and the fight out of the big woman. With barely a pause the hitwoman glided back, measured her swaying, stunned and winded opponent and kicked her in the jaw.

Brendan was amazed at the speed of Captain Natalie's downfall. He didn't know it but he was steering round and round in a circle.

Natalie Good was out cold, flat on her back, at Jacqueline's feet.

Jacqueline took out the gun she had retrieved from her storage locker along with her leather suit. She showed the big automatic to Brendan, then shoved it into her belt.

"Just keep driving in circles, son", she ordered.

She looked at Captain Natalie, spreadeagled, a trophy. She looked at the bow end of the cruiser. There was a stainless steel stanchion railing there. Ropes everywhere. Jacqueline smiled.

She bent lithely over the defeated Captain. From the corner of her eye she could see that Brendan was staying where she wanted him, well out of it.

She sat the unconscious Natalie up and stripped the striped tee shirt off her, then undid her brassiere and removed it. The Captain had large firm breasts that bounced and jounced free.

Jacqueline unceremoniously dropped Natalie back to the deck. Then she pulled off the woman's boat shoes, undid her blue jeans and pulled them off. Next her black cotton panties.

Now she lay completely naked. Jacqueline rolled Natalie onto her front. Because she liked leather she unthreaded the laces from the boat shoes. She wet the leather laces and then tied Natalie's wrists. She used the very minimum of binding, so the big strong woman would know how easy she was to hold captive. Two turns around the strong wrists and a handcuffing loop inside around those coils. The captain's hands were back to back to open her shoulders out and the knots went inside her wrists. She could tug at that all she liked and never break free from the tough leather strip.

The big woman was beginning to stir. Jacqueline didn't want to hear from her, so she stuffed Natalie's own black undies into her mouth and tied a cord around her face to hold them in place.

As Captain Natalie woke she found herself being manhandled to the front of her boat. Her jaw felt like it was broken. Her belly felt bruised. Her nose was hurting. She was still semi unaware of what was happening. Jacqueline maneuvered her past the steel railing onto the prow of the boat. With the second leather strap she tied Captain Natalie Good tightly by her throat to the bow rail of her own cruiser. Then she took cords and lashed the hapless defeated woman's ankles wide apart to the base of the railing on either side. She tied Natalies upper arms to the rail; and that was it. The defeated Captain was a nude trophy, displayed spread, kneeling, a bound captive on the bow of the boat.

Jacqueline looked at the sweet picture for a moment. Then she took the skipper's cap and put it square on Natalie's head.

The Captain was now squirming in her bonds. The leather would tighten as it dried. Jacqueline tied a final cord from her wrists to a loop around her belly. The Captain looked good, kneeling like a supplicant. Her hair had fallen free. It was surprising long and soft, and a warm chestnut color. Her big full firm breasts swayed with the boat's movement. Her round buttocks were spread by her widely tied ankles. The cord tieing her throat to the rail kept her up in a nicely displayed posture.

Brendan was strangely excited by Natalie's predicament. She had been cock of the walk and now this woman in the black leather jump suit had beaten her, stripped her and tied her helplessly. There was a new champion on board.

Jacqueline went up to the wheelhouse. All this time she had never let Brendan out of her sight for long. Now she made him steer for the downtown side again.

"MMMPPHH", Natalie Good was awake and calling for help. Nothing intelligible would come out past her panties, wadded up in her mouth. She was helpless and humiliated at the idea of coming into harbour displayed as a captive, beaten by a woman in a fair fight. She struggled and pulled at her bonds, but there was no give anywhere.

Worst of all were the unmistakable noises of sexual congress that began to come to her ears. That devil of a woman was having Brendan, right in her, Captain Natalie Good's, wheelhouse. As the aching pain of her fist fight beating began to fade, her courage began to return. Despite her humiliating bondage she kept her head up. "The first punch", she thought, "next time I won't let her get in the first punch like that".



To Be Continued…