A Very Different Kind of Knight in Shining Armor
Snapper Harry wanted me dead. I knew that, so did my roommate (who suddenly had an ill and very lonesome and poor old aunt in Montana to tend for...) and my boss (who didn’t appeared to work and had the shop locked heavier than the usual when I went there that morning) and almost everyone else at the Hill’s Lower Side, the city’s most populated district. The cops ‘had not enough evidences’ to do anything so I was on my own.
I needed a place to spend the whole day, somewhere, anywhere, where I could wait for the night to come so I could try to leave town. Then I remembered Dana of the fourth floor.
She had asked me and Josie (my roommate) to look after her golden fish as she would stay ‘out of town’ for a couple of days doing some model job. And me and Dana had very much the same physical features... We’re both brunettes with black eyes, her breasts are a little bigger but I am an inch taller. I know it wasn’t much of a plan, but... I was desperate!
I had truly believed in that good-for-nothing Detective Dooley Bentt’s promises, and Harry had found out right away who was the client of his nightclub that was trying to be a mole for the cops (HE had a mole in the force...). Only much later I would find out that Dooley had deliberately let the main suspect of being a snitch for Harry know about me, he had been right about the guy (who, as I was getting desperate and desperater, was being closely watched by fifteen of his ****** off colleagues so they could get him and Harry the first time they met) and had forgot about me! Dooley did deserve what he got in the end!
But I am getting ahead of myself.
At that moment all I knew was that a brunette who worked as a saleswoman/model in a lingerie shop at the mall had the key for my freedom and life. I checked myself in a mirror. I had seen her making all men drooling in a fashion event (I was with a soon-to-be ex-boyfriend at the time) while parading wearing various sets of sexy underwear.
She did had such a great drop-dead gorgeous body... compared to mine that is.
Would they fall for an excuse like ‘she has the flu and called me to replace her’? Probably not. I would have to, somehow, convince her to help me sending e-mails and text messages that would corroborate my story. I wasn’t planning to hurt her, I didn’t even had a gun! All I had was a Ginsu knife... not very menacing right? But I had already seen one of Harry’s men down the block as I returned home; Lucius, a tall and strong black guy that could have been once very attractive, but now was my slow death sentence!
I knocked at her door and she was sort of in a hurry. Her apartment was the best furnished in our five stories building by far, which led to you-know-what kind of comments by some of our neighbors. Anyway she had one bag totally opened on top of the dinner’s table, and kept coming and going to her bedroom as she wasn’t sure of what she’ll use to go ‘there’ and while she stayed ‘there’, she had no trouble of standing in front of me in a very skimpy set of black panties and bra, and I couldn’t care less about her lack of modesty now. She wasn’t very talkative but really thought that I was there to grab a copy of her keys and receive any last instructions that she might have to give.
I used her hurry to obtain some more information about her actual ‘job’, she was going to do some custom-made photos and mini-movies with another amateur models, more or less five others, for a very rich lady somewhere in the hills for a couple of days. Nothing porn but definitely not suitable for minors. Yes the rich lady was lesbian, but again there wasn’t any sex involved, and perhaps only one of the models (not her) shared the lady’s interests.
That’s when I saw it, a gun. A Derringer. You know..., that tiny little one-shot pistol the gamblers in the Old West carried in their pockets? I grabbed it and she almost immediately took it from my right hand. I was the real deal, and it was loaded. For real.
For the first time in the last 24 hours I felt lucky.
Six minutes later I cinched the last knot on the now furious and incredulous girl. I used a couple of her own thong string bikinis to tie her up, one bottom to tie her crossed ankles, another one to tie her knees together, one top to tie her wrists together and the last bikini part to tie her wrists to her waist. She couldn’t understand what I was doing, and thought that I was going to steal her plasma TV. I explained her everything and she understood it right away, she even knew some stories about ‘Snapper’ Harry that I never heard of.
It was 9:00 a.m. and she was supposed to be picked up at 10:00. Fortunately I didn’t had to menace or threaten her to have her cooperation. Thinking back now I realize that she was being way too cooperative actually. She even talked to a woman called Fay that was going to be her pick up. She said that there was this gal from her building, a buxom brunette with legs to die for (thank you...), that was in more need of the money than her. She said that we had talked and talked and I had agreed to play her part on the photos and movies, and she was going to stay in her apartment and if by any chance ‘SHE’ (the lady that was paying her and Fay and the others) didn’t liked me she’ll be ready and waiting.
‘Ready and waiting’ is still used as a code phrase for ‘I am in trouble’ by the girls today.
Anyway, I talked to Fay who made me a lot of questions. Height, weight, measurements, if I had any trouble in doing nude photos, alone or with other women, and only then she remembered to ask my name and other personal information about me.
After twenty minutes of a severe interrogation, she said that she had ‘liked my voice’ and she was going to give me a try and I felt alive for the first time that day. All that time I kept a closer look on Dana who simply didn’t fought the ropes at all, she stood there, kneeling on the floor in front of me as if it was normal for her to be in such a position. Of course, while I talked with Fay on the speaker I kept checking Dana’s bonds from time to time. I didn’t had the need to tighten anyone of them even once.
After Fay ended the call it was nearly 09:30. Dana asked me if I was going to gag her and when I said yes she begged me to not ruin another bikini, she told me where I could find a roll of duct tape and I used it after we had a little chitchat. She told that Dooley had a reputation of being an *** with women that didn’t filed his idea of a ‘decent’ one, which was technically over 90% of the female portion of the city (little girls included). He was more than a fossil, he was the last of the Cro-Magnon! And I wasn’t the first gal that he used and abandoned when she was no longer necessary...
When it was 09:42 I carefully filled Dana’s oral cavity with a balled up scarf, then I applied the tape taking care of not messing with her hair. I helped her to hop to her room and left her apartment. Three women were leaving the elevator at that moment.
The smaller and more beautiful of the trio was walking in front of her exactly dressed alike friends, she was a redhaired gal with long curly hair, sunglasses and a black mini dress that was clearly out of time and place, it would look better on a club at night, but I had to agree that she and her mini were made for each other. Not that she was as buxom as Dana or me, most like the contrary, but it fitted her perfectly. Her two companions were dressed in white and blue jumpsuits that looked even more out of place. One was tall, very tall, 6’8” at least, and massive. Not fat, all that were more like muscles (and were) than fat. The other was more or less of my height. Both were Latinas and with long jet black hair.
“Miss McLellan? We spoke on the phone... I am Fay...”
As she talked her two companions walked past us. Suddenly I was grabbed from behind by the tallest of the two, one massive left arm grabbing my right arm as it trapped my left one at my side while her massive and big right hand wrapped itself around my lower face.
Fay produced a Beretta from her purse and waved it in font of me.
“...and if you know what’s good for you, then Dana must be alive and well and with only a few ropemarks or YOU-ARE-DEAD, got it?”
Still surprised by the quick and efficient action of the tall woman I managed to nod a little.
The last woman had entered Dana’s apartment and was now at the door, with her left thumb up and looking at me as she really would like to kill me. The tall woman lifted me from the ground and I returned to Dana’s apartment as the homeowner emerged from her bedroom. She immediately went straight to Fay and begged that ‘Kris’ was ordered to let me go.
Kris ignored Dana, who was lead by Fay back to her room and the third woman produced a pair of rolls of red tape (I had never seen any color in one other than silver, white and black) from a pocket of her jumpsuit. They had me reduced to complete impotence as we heard the voices in Dana’s bedroom raising in tone and intensity.
Suddenly all was quiet. The still unknown jumpsuited lady chuckled as she finished taping my torso to one of Dana’s wooden chair’s back. Kris merely shook her head.
“Need any help Fay?”
“Mind your own business Lizzy!”
By that time I realized that I was crying. That’s what infuriated a stringently bound and ballgagged Dana as she was lead back to the living room (hopping like a bunny) by a fuming Fay. As Dana was passed to Lizzy hands and care (Dana was left wriggling at our feet three minutes later), Fay looked at me. And by the look of contained lust in her eyes I realized that all the tape that they had used, and had immobilized my upper torso and arms in a solid mass, had enhanced my bust. I nearly jumped as I felt her fingers in my chin but she was looking more calm, and comprehensive. Her intentions towards me were very obvious but I found out almost immediately that she was going to respect me.
“Here, let me help you...”
She dried my tears and ordered to Kris to give me some water, they had used so much tape to gag me that it took a while to the order be followed. By then Dana was being spanked (like a little bratty little girl being punished) by Kris and Lizzy was... checking her guns?
“You won’t talk, just answer my questions the best way you can. Lie to me and I can assure a couple of years of pain, humiliation and sorrow in an hourly basis. Convince me as you have convinced her and you might have found your way out of what you claim to be running from. Do you understand me girlie?”
And for the next hour I told them how Dooley had approached me when that marijuana was found in my car, I managed to convince them that I had never ever saw that plastic bag before, how he ‘persuaded’ me to be his unofficial eyes and ears at Harry’s club, how I had found out that Harry knew about me and how Dooley had deserted me.
At that point Kris stood up, and Dana (who was sitting on her lap) fell on the floor, and delivered a powerful blow to the wall behind her. I shrieked and Fay’s hand were over my lips in the next second. For a few minutes she stayed sitting on my lap and keeping the pressure while Kris blew off her steam in the kitchen.
Just that, I know that she had a thing for me and especially my breasts (and she does not denies it!), but she did not took any advantage of my impotence and helplessness.
“Sorry...” – said Kris after she managed to control herself.
“That’s fine gal, promise you won’t scare us anymore?” – Kris just nodded – “Now... you, I will take my hand off and we’ll resume... understood?”
And I did just that. I told them how my last couple of days had been, how I had managed so far to avoid my doom and about Lucius, and then Fay just gagged me and all three women completely forgot about their two bound and gagged captives as they discussed if they could believe in me, if they had to keep the schedule or change it (and how they would do it if they decided for the change) and what they would do now.
That’s when Fay decided to make a phone call, a lengthy one, with a lot of people. I can recall that she talked with at least nine different people, mostly men, and received orders and instructions and information and gave a few of all of those. The call kept being transferred to other people back and forth and she received a few others in the middle of it.
Then she finally finished the call, and gave the orders. Lucius was to be ‘deprived’ of his guns and ability to speak while me Dana were to be kept ‘safe’. Fay grabbed two of the seven guns that Lizzy had produced from her jumpsuit and under it, checked them and told Kris and Lizzy to take care of Lucius and anyone else that might be with him.
Both me and Dana were taken to a closet in Dana’s bedroom and helped to sit inside it, a pillow was provided for Dana’s sore behind, and Kris added a few more bonds on our bodies, including the one that prevented our heads to be lifted a couple of inches above our knees and the one that kept my crossed ankles over Dana’s crossed ones, before they checked the other guns and nodded to Fay, who was all business.
Only as the duo left the apartment is that Fay seemed to remind of our presence, and for the minutes in which she stood as our keeper she kept giving us reassuring smiles, kind words of encouragement and tightening Dana’s and my bonds and gag every now and then.
We heard the commotion, and a couple of shots, and then all was silence...
Then someone knocked ‘SOS’ in Morse Code at the door. Kris was as she had left, but Lizzy had a bruise that would turn into a nasty black eye in a few minutes. They carried four more guns (which were inside plastic bags) than they had left with.
“He was waiting for her at her place, and had two guys with him. We left them all alive...”
“Gooood... untie them, we may have about ten minutes before the police shows up (even in such a neighborhood…), and I have to make a call...”
Kris made the ‘silence’ signal before she started to free me, Lizzy was preparing an ice bag in the kitchen and Fay had closed the door in Dana’s study as she talked to someone. The first thing that Dana did was to walk to me and hug me, and I burst out crying. She held me tenderly yet firmly for as long as it took, and when it was finished Fay was back and had a proposition to me. The kind that I couldn’t say no.
One hour and a half later I was having the massage of my life. The gal’s name had so many consonants, and she didn’t understood a word in English, that I had no other option but call her Inga (the only thing that I had understood when the young masseuse introduced herself minutes before). Fortunately she had took it with a sweet smile in her face.
Less than thirty minutes before Fay had led me, Dana and the others into a private elevator in one of the town’s most exclusive skyscrapers in town. I was kidnapped by those three Scandinavian goddesses dressed in yellow bikinis as soon as I stepped in the 41st floor.
I was led by them as they talked and talked in their language as if I could understand a word, then two of them gave me a much welcomed bath as the third left the bathroom to return minutes later holding a tray with a jar of orange juice and some sandwiches. After I finally had my breakfast, at noon, I was led to a room and guided to lie on a bed. Then ‘Inga’ re-introduced herself and started to work her magic on me.
Then her two friends, they weren’t triplets or even sisters, attracted my attention and started to show me dress after dress until I realized that they wanted me to choose one. I opted for a navy blue one that... was my number? And so were the sandals!
Only when I was led by then to a library in the same floor is that I took a good look at the place I was now, an exclusive floor adorned with a sober and fancy decoration but in which the sight of gals in string bikinis wasn’t unusual to attract the attention of any of the women around? At least not all of them...? And with NO man in sight?
Only then it was that I realized who was the owner of the place...
I turned to the girls, grabbed ‘Inga’ by her shoulders and looked intently to her eyes, and that tramp Helen Jenkins started to grin... while her friends (who like her are also mine as well today) laughed their hearts out. The few women around us (all conservatively dressed) at least pretended to stifle their grins and knowing smiles.
“Please don’t be mad at them, it’s a practical joke that they love to play on the newbies and first visitors in my not very humble place. You must be the 188th or 257th gal that fall in that one, who knows? Besides, we have far more things to do now, don’t we miss McLellan?”
I couldn’t help but tell the trio of blondes that ‘they’ll see, they’ll just see...’ as the most feared and powerful woman of the state waited by door of her private office and library for me to join her. She smacked be down there as I kept my attention more focused on the trio.
“Miss McLellan, could you please COME IN???”
I rushed past the (in)famous millionairess and she locked the door behind me. It was one of those cliché private office of the TV series and soap operas, shelves filled with old and older books at my right, left and behind me. There was a couple of pretty (and buxom) secretaries conservatively dressed and two burly bodyguards, Kris and Marissa, a gal that would become one of my best friends. Donna Twelvetrees Mannx clapped her hands and all women rushed through another door at my right, leaving me alone with her.
“Can I call you Tiana? Good, Tiana, I was told that you are in trouble, of the mortal kind, and for that you attacked one of my most regular models...”
“She works for you??!!!”
“As half the town, Dana’s paycheck comes from one of my bank accounts. As many (but sadly not all) of the pretty girls and mature women in a five hundred miles radius that I lay my eyes upon, she has a different source of income. Legal and honest, but not the kind that she can brag about. You interfered with her schedule, which was my own, as of today. But I’ve been told that you had a very good reason to do that...”
“And you are going to help me if...?”
I must have done some really weird or bad face, for she frowned and looked at me as I had really insulted her. Then she slapped me, hard enough to make fell on all fours.
“IF I wanted... If I wanted...”
I had never seen a woman that mad at someone else, and that ‘someone else’ was me!
Then, from out of nowhere came this tall and skinny girl. She said nothing, just placed her two hands on Donna’s shoulders and started to massage them. From them on she spoke and Donna stood there, towering me as well as her company, and said not any other word.
“No one but us knows that you are here. I must admit that you are attractive but let’s face it; in this building, right about now, there are at least twenty gals that only cheer jealousy of your part would explain why you won’t recognize them as more beautiful than you. Of these, I can recall that at least five are lesbian like me and one is bi like my boss here. Of these five, two are very submissive girls that have HER as their ‘Mistress’. Besides that, I believe that the number of girls or women that SHE knows that would gladly, and without any kind of pressure from my boss’s part, submit to anything that her cute devious mind placed their bodies to... into... onto... whatever... It must be in the hundreds! What I want to say is; don’t flatter yourself in the most disrespectful way possible girl. You end up offending my boss as well. Now please, stand up and let us take a good look at you...”
I stood, turn around, and around again, and again and... she slapped me hard on the... there. I turned around ready to do something and she just placed one of her long skinny fingers over my lips and I suddenly had no more the urge to give it back at her...
“That was for the grave offense you made to you and her. Let’s talk about business. One of the town’s most dangerous man is after you... and the man that think of himself as the pride of the boys in blue deliberately placed you in this situation, so his plans against the first guy could finally bear some fruits after eighteen unsuccessful attempts. If you want to try it for yourself, and spend the rest of your (short) life looking over your shoulders, there’s about twenty grand in that envelope over there and we can take you anywhere within a thousand miles radius. Or, you can follow my boss’ idea and have your life back.”
I looked at her again. She was serious! Now ‘her boss’ was far more calm and seemed to be enjoying my situation (and she was). They looked quite a pair... For those who may have forgotten Donna Mannx is a 50-something white woman whose more prominent feature are her eyes. The left one is green and the right one is black and both can make one of the most ferocious stares ever seen in the humankind. Aside that she is 5’8”, brown hair and quite unnoticeable, the common woman that doesn’t stands in a crowd unless she wants it. Her still unnamed friend was at least 6’5”, but probably both had the same weight. She had... weird black eyes, ‘weird’ as in ‘VERY expressive ones’, and very short black hair. She would be noticed even if she was in the middle of a convention of WNBA players!
I looked at them and then at the envelope, which was lying on top of a small book which was on the table at my left. I had to ask it before I made up my mind.
“What exactly do you plan to do? And why are you helping me?”
“We are not helping you, silly girl… why should we? We are just removing two weeds from her garden, that is all. Her family built up this town and watched it grown until it became a good place to live. Unfortunately, it is predictable that there are criminals wandering on its streets. Some are quite respectable, some aren’t and there are scum like Harold ‘Snapper Harry’ Lubens. And there are cops and most are respectable, a few deserves jail and there’s Dooley Bentt. And, with your help, Harry and Dooley might be living at the state’s expenses until the end of the week, and for a long long time as well.”
“But... why do you need me then? What can I do... I am...”
“The perfect bait... for the perfect trap!”
I wanted to run right away, grab the envelope and or simply run!
But their eyes, their eyes… they could help if I let them, and to be honest I did sensed some expectation, as if she wished me to allow her to help me, from Donna’s part.
From Euboea (Ebby)’s part, well you have to meet her to understand her…
‘O-o-ok... Wha... what you want me to do?’
(I know I wasn’t present at the places in some of the following scenes, but I have faith in the descriptions of the events since they were given to me by my friends, some of their own friends and sworn testimonies of the trial that followed that night’s events.)
It was unusual for Dooley Bentt to choke while eating a ham sandwich. But he did so after opening an e-mail on his computer. As two of his ‘boys’ (the few policemen that were members of his vice squad) helped him another saw the monitor of his computer.
Soon there was a crowd of vice cops looking at my bare breasts.
He composed himself and expelled everyone from around his computer, then he re-read the message under the picture. ‘The girl is mine, the doggone girl is mine’.
Two verses from an old Michael Jackson song, the password for that b*** to get in touch with him! And someone knew it and had her... He looked at the sign on the wall behind the topless bound beauty, It seemed to be a giant ‘B’ painted in red with an arrow at its left pointing in that direction... Of course! The old sports arena at Gottlieb St.!
He called for his three most loyal ‘boys’ and all four left the precinct six minutes later.
Fay’s contact in that precinct phoned her right away.
She stopped devouring me with her eyes for a second and grabbed the phone. In front of me Marissa and Kris looked at each other; Marissa had bet that the first to call would be to tell that Dooley was on his way, Kris said that it would be to say that Harry had left his home and they placed their money on my lap. Smiling a very happy display of her teeth, Marissa grabbed the two bucks and pocketed them as she looked behind me...
Only later I would realize what the two bills did meant actually...
All of them completely dismissed my muffled protest and made few demonstrations that they noticed when one of their minions clasped both her hands over my gagged mouth.
I was really mad at them and with myself.
It seemed logical at first, snap a few pictures of me bound and gagged in a deserted place, send it to both guys and have their meeting with my ‘kidnapper’ recorded and exhibited in tonight’s news on TV. The mysterious tall woman recruited Marissa, Kris and six other women and told me to go with them. We arrived at the place and in five minutes I was in a cloakroom, undressing to put on a very skimpy and sexy blue bikini set of underwear.
Four girls came in from both sides, as lionesses circling her prey, grinning and holding their hands behind them and jumped on me, they said later that the photos would look more convincing if it was obvious that I had fought back as I was being tied up... yeah, right.
Anyway I must admit that they did a good job; I was definitely their prisoner until they decided otherwise, but I wasn’t in pain nor feeling any kind of physical trouble (no cramps, no dormancy in any limb and not even an itch).
My forearms had been tied in parallel in a way that each wrists (and some fingers) were connected with the elbow of the other arm; what I first thought that was an excuse to have my breasts touched was in fact a rope harness to which my arms were later tied to; they hobbled me by cinching a rope right above my knees and to gag me they used a foam ball and long strips of white tape (on which they wrote ‘SNITCH!’ with black letters). My hair was disheveled, my breasts were out of their silk confinement (still strapped to my torso) and I was sweating and furious (and scared as I supposed I couldn’t be anymore).
They escorted me to the room I was supposed to be kept in but, while we were taking a shortcut, Kris appeared and decided that I was overdressed.
She used a large hunting knife to remove my bra, placed me besides a sign painted on the wall and snapped a few pictures, then she effortlessly grabbed me and threw my body over her right shoulder, she took the liberty to grab a handful of my nearly naked behind and we resumed our march to the offices of the place. While en route she explained to me that I had actually be the answer to their prayers, that this operation was ready to be launched for quite some time but they needed someone, guess who..., who could attract both Dooley and Harry to the same place at the same time with obvious illegal intentions.
So, as she personally bound me to a chair in the farthest office room of the building, she told me what were their plans to me after everything was over, regardless of their plan had or not beard the fruits they wanted... that helped me to calm down, but I still felt infuriated for being the only topless gal in the room! And with their obvious stares and glances!
Exactly two minutes after the first call came the confirmation that Harry was on his way too and I was suddenly left alone in the room. Not for long, true, but when Marissa closed the door and winked at me I suddenly started to feel really scared.
Then the door was opened.
Due to a huge traffic jam, Harry was the first to arrive at the Mansfield Hall, an old field house that was about to undergo a complete revamp. He was boiling with rage.
The e-mail had said that he had two hours to arrange half a million dollars in cash, or my corpse would be found the next day and the investigation would find evidences that linked him to my death. The e-mail also revealed to him that his mole in Dooley’s division had been compromised, which left him unable to check out how the police was handling with my disappearance, turned public after the beaten and bruised bodies of Lucius and the others were found in my apartment, without putting himself in risk.
For the moment, he thought it was better to check if that information was true first (and two of his men were doing it already). As soon as he stepped out of the black SUV that lead his convoy came the confirmation, the mole had been arrested and was under questioning at the time. He then looked at the guy that had recognized the signal on the wall behind by back.
‘Are you sure that this is the place?’
‘Yes, yes Boss, I am. I’m a big fan of basketball, every time that I have a chance I watch a game either live or in some sports channel on TV. Until three year ago it was here that the county’s amateur tournament and junior league was held. These days the Black Crows holds everything at their dome, but I still remember how things are in the inside...’
‘Lead the way.’
More or less at the same time Dooley arrived with his men right on the other side of the block. The closed arena had been selected no only for the expected privacy but also due to the fact that, if the plan beards fruits, they would reach it through very different routes that would lead them to two specific and opposite entrances. Donna might be very generous with her paychecks, but she does demands efficiency in exchange!
Anyway, while Harry and his men entered by the East coming from the Baker St. and Dooley arrived at the place from the West through Garland Ave., I was tied to a pole.
Overkill tied, due to the fact that Kris had entered the room carrying a printed photo in her hands, handed it to Fay and ordered me to be bound as the girl in the picture.
There was a pole in the middle of the room, I was relieved of my bonds and ordered to go there. With the help of her minions she applied more rope on me than the enough to securely bind five of me. And not only long strands of rope were used to bind my legs, arms and torso together but to the post as well. The pattern that ended up being created to keep my arms bound in my back was, I have to admit, weirdly exquisite with all the ropes that held my wrists together and my arms immovable (although not bound together) drawn to a single point right above the small of my back. They took pictures and compared with the drawing of some Italian guy called Sauelli, Sadelli... of a girl called (I swear) ‘Sally Rich’! Sally Rich!!! What kind of name is that?
The only difference was that the girl was dressed (albeit one of her breast had popped out of the blouse she was wearing) and gagged with tape. I was practically naked under all that rope and was cleave gagged. And they seemed to have done it more times since they timed all the action and ‘chastised’ themselves for doing it ‘twelve seconds’ slower!!
Then they congratulated themselves for the perfection of their work on me (even if they had been ‘lazy’ I wasn’t going anywhere AND had became far more beautiful to their eyes) and were told to be quiet, for the show was about to start.
But before there was this quick check if my ‘interpretation’ was convincing. It took seven attempts for me to do it right... Then the show was on!
Afterwards I was congratulated for my ‘acting skills’ and four sat in front of me (Fay used the only chair of the room), while the woman that had just shot me was standing by my side and we watched one of the best things I ever saw in TV.
Both parties met at the court, drew their guns and eyed each other. But it turns out that albeit closed the Arena still was used by its owner... yep, Donna Mannx.
She still had some of her movies shot in there until one week before they leveled the place last year, so electricity was still running in he place. The moment it looked like they were about to kill each other the lights went on, and the image of a corridor appeared on the four huge screens of the room. Someone was walking through it and saying things in off to the camera. It was Ebby, dressed as a normal business woman in navy blue and black, but if you recall the feed NO ONE in the whole world would ever mistook her for anything but a mob killer/PR, she can be that creepy and dreadful very easily...
She told a story about a girl named Tiana McLellan, who loved to party and dance at night. One night while she was returning to her apartment a patrol car ordered to pull over. A bag of marijuana was found under the backseat, a bag planted by the very same cop that had arrested her, under direct orders of Dooley Bentt. Then she told in graphic details, while still walking on a very calm manner, how I had become Dooley’s ‘mole’, and how since the very beginning he was expecting me to be ousted ASAP.
She claimed that she had proofs of what she was saying and lured Dooley and his men into believing in it by stating things, that Donna had paid a lot of money to learn about their illegal and immoral attempts to bring Harry down, that they believed no one else knew.
But once ‘Snapper’ Harry knew what they knew he snapped his fingers... and his men pointed their guns at Dooley and his own. Then, as if predicting that such a situation would happen (not that it was so hard to do that), Ebby started to tell that she knew that Harry was waiting for Dooley to make such a move (use another girl as a bait on a trap against him) since last time that he had tried it he had came too close to achieve his goal.
And Harry knew that Dooley would, sooner or later, try a variation of the strategy that had only be unsuccessful because a man called ‘Gene’ had received a couple of millions for warning him in the crucial moment in which he could have fell...
So when he was told about me he put his ‘fall from grace’ ruse in action. To make things short, I was supposed to die by a gun that Dooley had, ‘supposedly’, been the responsible to send to the evidences deposit (which is actually a well guarded building) a couple of years earlier. Thanks to some treats on his family an old cop had substituted the real gun for one provided by Harry. So the gun, which was linked to a cloudy death of a drug dealer, would shot the bullets that would finish with my life... and Dooley’s career and reputation.
It was really an elaborate plan, and to this day I don’t know how she learned all that, but Ebby managed to put all the key elements of it in a very precise and concise way.
And now Dooley was really tempted to shot Harry.
They exchanged some insults and accusations, and all the while Ebby kept walking through the corridors as if she could listen to what they were saying and smiling a devious grin because of it. Then she started to say the lies that made them do what they did.
She was the representative of a certain ‘Mr. Karlev’, the name was recognized by Harry, and he had plans for the city, big plans. So he had decided to get rid of Harry and Dooley, by making them pay the death penalty for my execution...
She said that she had many witnesses and movies and wired conversation that proved that I had been kidnapped by Harry’s thugs, under his orders of course, AND that she had the gun that was linked to Dooley. The gun that was now in her hands...
Harry immediately phoned his men at his manor and was told that the gun had disappeared. His secretary, Bob Hannigan, was missing and so was the gun that he kept inside a plastic bag in his safe along with some papers (that were also missing).
What was really happening was that Donna’s two moles in the staff of Harry’s manor (the assistant of the cook and a maid) had drugged a few security guards/thugs and had opened the gates for Donna’s ‘strike force’. The whole estate was ‘secured’ in less than twenty five minutes, and the men whom with Harry talked had guns against their heads in order to say exactly what the leader of the attack (Lizzy) typed in the laptop in front of them.
All the staff, thugs and Harry’s ‘family’ (his two female company of the week) was locked in the wine cellar after being all bound, gagged and drugged. Including the moles (whose cover wasn’t blown so they could keep on with their lives afterwards).
Of course, now both parties were watching very closely what was happening in the screen.
Ebby holstered the gun under her right armpit and started to read out loud the papers in her left hand (a lot of highly compromising stuff against Harry).
In fact she was repeating what her... assistant, that was (a passive) part of the ‘strike force’, was reading for her from the actual papers, and she never clearly showed to the camera what was in her hands (a financial report of one of Donna’s enterprises).
Then she opened the door, the camera was turned around... and there was I, absurdly bound to that pole in the middle of the bare room with nobody else but me and Ebby (who walked inside as the person holding the camera stayed outside the room) inside it. And I screamed desperate gagged mewls as the gun was aimed at my heart and...
Ebby pulled the trigger!!!!
The blood over my bare chest was a proof that she had not missed such an easy mark. I slumped my head forwards and she aimed the camera to her face, smiled the most cruel, vicious and brutal smile that I ever saw in my life (before and after that day) and threw the papers all over the room. She looked at the camera and said ‘Of course it’s a trap you fools! But what chance you maggots have? The one that reaches the room first will get his hand on the incriminatory evidences against the other!!! Don’t think that you can make the papers linking you to that gun ‘disappearance’ as you did with that tape five years ago Dooley, the same goes to the bullets on that bimbo’s corpse!!! And don’t think that your one-thousand-bucks-the-hour lawyers will make these papers become ‘inadmissible’ in court Harry… The first that gets to this room...’ – and the camera was now aimed at the green letters on the wall above the door that identified where and what was the room – ‘...will get what he always wanted to have against his foe... a smoking gun evidence!!!!’
The shootout started right away...
I was in the back of the large building, room N232, which meant that I was in the lowest sublevel of the place right next to the powerhouse or other kind of machinery (that was now long gone). So they shot at each other while trying their best to get deeper and deeper into the building’s structure. But it is really necessary for me to say that I wasn’t there?
I was thirty blocks away!
Matt & Lynn Studios were another of Donna’s properties around town. They had produced a few movies in the early 20th Century, before Hollywood became more than just an orange grove in LA County, and now where most used for Donna’s… more ‘elaborated’ fantasies, but also to reproduce a room (and the corner in which it was located) in the sublevels of the Mansfield Hall. Ebby had shot most of her walk around the sublevels of the field one two days before, the part in which she ‘read’ the papers stolen from Harry’s safe and my ‘death’ were the only stuff that happened ‘live’… that was the first thing that she told while we…
Oooops… I am getting ahead of myself…
They had hidden a lot of micro cameras all around the place, and managed to record the fierce struggle between Harry and Dooley after they got themselves locked inside the room in which I was supposed to be (along with the evidences against them), two of their men were dead and other three had bullet holes and all were arrested minutes later.
Only after they stopped with their round of congratulations, huggings and kisses is that they noticed me, still bound to that post and with the fake blood covering all my upper torso, and Ebby got a little closer, looked at me straight in the eyes and asked:
‘You realized it all, don’t you?’
Of course I had!!!! Not only they were playing for a fool…, they had see what those two were doing with me!!! They knew it all along!!! And they had let it happen!!! So they could appear and pose as ‘knights in shining armors’ coming to rescue the ‘fair damsel’ from her ‘dire distress’!!! And they thought that I would NOT see it???
A whole section of the sublevels of the Mansfield Hall reproduced down to the last detail in a studio on the other side of the city, a couple of moles planted inside Harry’ staff… They had guided me into believing that… that… Dana was involved in the business!!!
I could clearly see her laughing about me and my naiveté when she was being overly bound by Fay as a punishment for her ‘interference’ in her own rescue.
Sigh… I was so mad that I thought such a stupid thing about one of my best friends!!!
‘Everything will be properly explained to you, but we should get going… Cut her loose and give her something to dress. I want this whole studio completely bare and ‘dusty’ in less than one hour. DIDN’T YOU HEARD ME??? Do it, now!!!’
And I was untied and completely forgotten by Ebby, who coordinated the first steps of the deconstruction of the whole set, two girls (they wore casual dresses, shorts or trousers and T-shirts, besides their mask and gloves) dragged me to a room and gave some clothes to wear and left me alone. I wanted to cry, and scream and do many other things…
But first I had to run away from that place as fast as I could…
If at least they had provided me with less… slutty clothes!... I could have a better chance…
The indigo jeans shorts was way too short (the base of my barely silk covered buttocks was clearly visible) and the black tank top was a number shorter than it should be. I was looking like a men’s magazine model on a sensuous photo-shoot... more like whore or a stripper. And the neighborhood around the studio wasn’t the best of the town, so if I tried to run…
But I did.
And got captured as soon as I left the room through its window, I jumped and run to a corner and when I reached it I found myself surrounded from all sides by Fay & Kris masked assistants. I did put up a fight, but it was worthless.
I never had a chance since I am not (not even today) very good in self-defense stuff, I got about twenty hours of self-defense classes and I know a lot of things, but even today I would not be able to (without a lucky punch/strike or misstep from my adversary’s part) overpower any of Fay or Kris’s ‘assistants’, those four and the twenty one others...
They just blocked my feeble attacks, gagged me with a sponge ball and strips of cloth and then proceeded to tie me up as I did my best to attempt to annoy them four. Two of them grabbed by bound legs and two others held my torso and thus I was carried until the SUV in which none other than Dana was at the wheel and Ebby was in the back seat.
The windows of the SUV were tinted, so no one could see me writhing on the back seat after Ebby used the seatbelts and other belts (not usually found in SUVs) to keep me with my head being kept down over her lap as she and Dana talked to me. I tried to not listen to them, to make noises as to make their speeches unintelligible... and Ebby grabbed my head and made me look into her eyes as she said ‘STOP’, and I stopped.
She can really be scary if she wants to...
Then she started to tell me why they had played the ruse on me, because I wasn’t the only one that was fooled by them. She asked me if I thought that it could be possible that they could create such an elaborate operation out of the blue, as best I could I shook my head and she complimented me for my intelligence and made the next question...
Supposing that Donna Manx had such a well prepared group of ‘vigilantes’ under her thumb, was it possible that the FBI didn’t knew about it? I didn’t answered to that question and just looked at her with very big eyes for a moment, and she answered ‘Of course not!!!’ and told me that the ruse was on me and in the mole agents planted in Donna’s crew.
One of the ‘Scandinavian Bikini Triplets’, a guy from the security of the very same studio where I had just filmed my part and another one that was where I was going to be taken to.
To all three of them it had to look like I had, voluntarily (even with a help of the pressure put on my back by those two ****), took part in the play against those two ******.
It could and would have been much more easier for them to simply kidnap me (and they, according to Ebby, at least ‘six different plans’ to do that efficiently) and use the one of Donna’s ‘girls’ that looked the most like me (at least at a distance) or that had the same body shape as my own... but if they had did that the FBI would have had the overture (my kidnapping) that they have been craving to happen for the past two decades!!!
And according to Ebby such line of strategy was not even original!!!
While not an active member of the Friendship, Donna Manx was always one of the main responsibles for the training of their ‘field agents’, and thus was always targeted as one of the main links to be exposed and taken down by the FBI (who even in Hoover’s days had not a ‘great esteem’ for the Friendship). They even had nicknamed her, Helen Talbot (who was for more than thirty years just a ‘in name only’ member of the Friendship) and Julia Bortroff (or, for four decades, Counselor Three of the High Council – the board – of the Friendship) as the ‘Sisterhood of Sin’, three powerful (lesbian) millionaires that surrounded themselves with lots of female company and were not ashamed of it (even back when being an homosexual was a crime, a mental disease and a sin)... thus three ‘easy marks’ for the FBI to bring down the Friendship (or turn them into forced allies)... or at least in theory (there was a lot of misogyny and homophobia in that idea of the G-men).
So, to their superiors in Washington and Quantico, after a little pressure from their part I had agreed (voluntarily, in the most fringe aspect of the term, but voluntarily nonetheless) to help them to help me. And then she looked at me and asked if I had realized what that meant... and only then, I confess, I did it. Yeah, I know...
They would (eventually) have to let me go, to meet some federal agents and federal prosecutors (or the likes) and witness for them in a court against Harold ‘Snapper Harry’ Dungowickz and Dooley Bentt. But, of course, the next logical question appeared in my mind in a flash (‘Then why I am your captive? And where are you taking me?’)...
‘Because, unfortunately, your presence under our ‘care’ was ordered by the Council. They want to discuss (among themselves) the terms of your ‘release’ to the federal agents according to the development of the situation in this town... ‘AFTER’ and not ‘BEFORE’. So your presence in a secure facility of the Friendship was ordered and...’
‘Sshhh... think about all the fear and terror and all that you felt in the past week...’
I looked at her with a very puzzled expression.
‘Please, pretty please?, forget that we let most of it to grow strong and just think about it.’
Even more puzzled I did what she told me.
‘Think about a couple of weeks in a very safe place. Over twenty highly skilled and trained dudes and dudettes with more-than-adequate-weaponry, state of the art security system and three bodyguards 24/7 watching you closely to ensure your safety. Now think about being pampered and spoiled by six girls whose only purpose will be satisfy you... WE KNOW THAT YOU ARE STRAIGHT!!!! What I meant was that they will take care of you, of your muscles and back and everything else with their massaging techniques, of your hair and nails and whatever else you want them to tend to... If you even would like to give a try one or two may have sex with you (or even all six) for they are all MY girls and obey ALL my orders, and my orders (that I already gave to them) are ‘Spoil her!!!’... so think about it, Witness Protection Program (that has no such luxuries and security) right now or in one or two weeks? Because one of the guys in charge of your security, in the place where we are hiding to, IS a federal agent. And we can’t fool him that you are there for your own free will if we keep you locked in a windowless room 24/7 and being submitted to all necessary forms of bondage to keep you as our prisoner, right?’
By this time we were already in the highway. Later I would learn about the intricate ruse that Ebby played on ‘Vicky’ (or Louise Hill, the ‘Scandinavian Bikini Triplet’ mole) and ‘Jimmy’ (the studio crew mole) which made them believe that I was in one of the three cars ‘convoy’ that left the studio (through another gate) about three minutes before the SUV.
After about twenty minutes of the trip Ebby removed most of the belts pinning my body, but kept the ropes and gag, and started to explain to me a few things. Namely what would be her legal defense if I decided to NOT take the flight she was about to take, to a nearby Caribbean country which didn’t have an extradition treaty with the US, how they could and would help me even if I entered the WitSec... this kind of stuff...
After about fifty minutes more we reached a private airport, in a very secluded spot of the state, with a Learjet ready to take her to the aforementioned country. By then, while still wearing the slutty clothes they had given me back in the studio, I was now free. Free to chose between the jet or a phone call to the nearest FBI office...
Dana chose it for me, she simply grabbed me by the hand and took me inside. She said that Ebby had talked ‘too much already’ and that she wanted/demanded to have a serious talk with me. So Ebby and our pilot, another soon-to-be great friend Jessica Plumm, put us on air while we talked and talked and such. I ended up... crying in her arms... and we arrived at the island about one hour later, landing on a private land field.
I was sent to a luxury of a room, and with the aforementioned six girls (two whites, two blacks and two Orientals, all with a bigger bra size than my own...) who royally took care of me and Dana for the next hours. By the time I had realized it I was dinning with Dana and Ebby as we discussed what would happen with me, after Ebby had received an update of the development the events of the day. Thinking back... it was a great time for me.
I could relax, I was pampered to the point of ‘kicking’ the girls out of my room to have some privacy and be able to do something on my own, I wasn’t feeling like trapped in a gilded cage. I even got even with Dana... Not what you’re thinking you...!
It’s just that I ‘asked’ the girls to trap her as we were talking in my room, so they (six against one remember?) ended up jumping on her, removing her string bikini and roping her spread-eagle in my bed, and then that I was to be left alone with my captive.
But Dana had enough faith in me to know that I wasn’t going to hurt her, not a chance!, so she stayed calm and even with a blasé attitude... until I produced those feathers and used them on her ribs... MAN!!! Is she ticklish!!! After thirty minutes of ‘tickling madness’ from my part I let her go, and she spent the next five days plotting her revenge... that never came. Ebby did not let her do that, she told Dana that Donna Manx didn’t liked to see one of her girls acting like a ‘teenage brat’, and the fear of falling from grace (even lightly) in the eyes of her mistress was enough to make her stop her schemings. Against me.
Each and all of my ‘buxom servants’ ended up on her bed, bound hand and foot and unable (as if they really wanted to) to resist to any of her ‘whims’. Hey, the fact that they were ‘hosting’ an heterosexual/vanilla girl didn’t stopped them from being lesbians with a nearly nonstop fetishistic lifestyle, ok? And I wasn’t ‘forced’ to watch their performances or the likes, I just... accidentally... bumped into them... (...) twenty two times...? OK, I admit...
It isn’t my ‘cup of tea’, but I was curious and I did made two or three tons of questions to them about why it was so good to be a captive, or to have a captive, and all about that...
After about a week I got my first contact with Federal authorities, and about twenty days after that weird day I was under their protection (and how I missed the massages, mango margaritas and other stuff!!!). I testified and helped to put both Harry and Dooley behind bars, and entered the WitSec. I got out of it after a couple of years, since the ‘crimelords’ that had replaced Harry had no interest whatsoever in myself and Dooley’s power over the police force was now reduced to one or two guys still in activity.
I accepted Ebby’s offer to move to her hometown. It’s not that she feels anything but an obvious sexual attraction for me (but then again she IS a proud ‘Don Juan in skirts’ that has an obvious automatic ‘interest’ for any woman she meets...), but I had helped her to rise in the ranks of the Friendship (she orchestrated all the operation that cleaned Donna’s town for a while and exposed many FBI moles within their crew and personnel), and she had ‘felt’ that she could trust in me. Don’t ask me to explain it.
She just knew that ‘I’, among all the men and women she had ever met in her life, could fill the role of her ‘assistant’ as well as I do. So here I am... But enough about me...
And you, what’s your story? How did you end up here, with Ebby?
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