We Can BE Heroines (Just for One Day?)...

It’s not like I like to be late, to be always the last one to show up at our meetings, it just happens... every time we gather up. My orders are always the last ones...

Ten years before half of us were very active all over the West Coast, the other half were either gun molls or worked as some sort of back-up for the ‘big guns’, for example Mary was a mechanic that was an expert in preparing cars and trucks for all sorts of needs while Gina was once devoted to a notorious smuggler (until she learned about his wife and three other mistresses that is), but now we all lived and worked ‘inside’ the law and with new names (even if we knew each other by our former/real names we had agreed to only use the ‘new’ ones in their ‘happy hours’), and only once or twice a month we would drink and eat and... remember the good ole days... The girls would hang around some table at a new bar or club, ask for their drinks, start talking about something and... presto!

Fashionably late there I came... which always made me the last to catch on the talking, but also usually the one with the best story related to whatever was the subject of that night’s hangout... which was (per Irma’s not-so-fake snobbish definition)...

‘Differences between fact and fiction: Real World vs. 80’s & 90’s bondage videos’? It had to be Charity’s doing!!! But it turns out it was Sondra’s...

There had been this ‘damsels in distress’ scene in this week’s episode of Mary’s favorite crime TV show and she couldn’t stop talking about how the writer of the episode, and the director and everybody else involved with it, had blew it badly.

And as she described it to me (while the others tried to ignore that it would be the seventh time they would be hearing it...) I couldn’t help but agree... what a blunder!

The soulless villain, the ‘what-is-his-real-plan?’ punctuating the whole episode, the trap that reveals itself to be a distraction while the ‘though-as-nail’ (and very sexy and with a dark past) brunette babe partner of the hero is captured with his wife, the confrontation in which the hero had to chose between grabbing the villain (which he didn’t since obviously his other partners would do it for him) or rescuing ONE of them (while the other was going to die no matter what!)... Oh... what should he do?

BUT... the tie-up of both actresses was pathetic and unrealistic, who actually used non mouth-packed gags (in TV shows) anymore?, the way he managed to save them both was absurd, the edition of the whole scene had killed the thrilling situation...

A wasted opportunity, plain and simple!

In order to avoid Mary to tell them once more the whole episode, Sondra had started to tell them about the time she and three guys had been ordered to grab and ‘secure’ the wife of somebody in the suburbs, in order to force him to do (or not do) something with his computer that very night... so they sneaked up past all the ‘noisy neighbors’ in broad daylight and found him finishing to tying-up his wife for them... and what a tie-up!

Actually the 25/27 years old girl didn’t minded (too much) to be subjected to some of her hubbie’s fantasies when she lost a bet, he was always a good sport and (she ‘told’ Sondra as they waited for the time to pass) sometimes it was quite fun anyway...

Sondra handed me her own cellphone, it had a picture in it, obviously taken from a movie from Harmony or FM or the likes of that time...

‘The model’s name is ‘Hollywood’ and she was tied up like that in the story in order to avoid any kind of interference from her part while her captor (and former captive) went on to rescue some friends/do-gooders of some law enforcement agency... that supposedly were being stashed by the dozen in that house/manor with only ‘Hollywood’ to guard them... yeah right... and obviously there wasn’t a timetable involved...’ – Sondra told her.

She was suspended while standing (diagonally) up on her feet, high heeled boots of course, there was rope around her body everywhere to restrict any chance of movement... In the real world she would have been conked, hard, and tied up with all knots out of her reach (supposing that handcuffs, glue for the knots and other stuff wasn’t available)...

But the whole thing remind her of a picture she saw about how they had killed a pirate back in the XVIII century, he had been put in a metallic contraption that went from the top of his head to below the sole of his feet, like a tight fitting human cage, and at regular intervals there was a metal bar circling his body. He was locked in it in a way that even with his hands and arms free he could move them more than half an inch from his body, and then he was left to starve to death (or at least that was what she presumed that it had happened to him) while hanging over the port of that English town.

It was almost the same thing, save that the ‘hubbie’ had used rope of course (and a ballgag) and that she was hanging in the diagonal, not perfectly in a vertical position. Plus the pirate was dressed when he met his fate, and she was wearing an all green revealing fetishistic set. The whole thing was moss green... the see-through pantyhose, the thong bikini bottom, the corset (one or two sizes smaller than it should be), the biker gloves, the domino mask (?) – a captured burglar fantasy? –, even the stilettos and the ballgag were moss green...

‘And you said that the lil’ dame wasn’t into that?’

‘Nope, her husband was but he ‘compensated’ every little fantasy he put her through with dinners at fancy restaurants, a shopping spree and the likes. She did not told me what she had agreed to receive in exchange of this... situation, but that her husband practically begged on his knees for her to allow him to do that to her (something that apparently he had never done before), and according to her he was really needing to use this ‘stress relief’ (as she called it). The past month had been weird for her with him in a permanent stage of alert mode, so when she asked him if there was anything that she could to help him...’

‘You seem to have gotten really acquainted with that gal...’ – intervened Irma.

‘Oh well, you know..., we invaded the place, found them in the basement with the husband taking pictures of her like that... the guys grabbed the husband and hurled him upstairs and I was told to do what I was supposed to... keep an eye on his wife. But I knew that whatever was the tech thing that the husband was supposed to do to get us out of his life, it was something that would take like... three hours. So, with she trembling and crying and fearing everything that we could (but never would) do to her, I unbuckled that jawbreaking thing and wiped out her tears and we started to talk.. what else was I supposed to do?’

All the women at the table answered that question with their own ‘suggestion’...

‘Ha-ha Charity, very funny... anyway... if there’s one thing that I regret about the whole episode was that I had to met her under such circumstances... we really could have turned out to be bestestest friends!!! A pity. In any case at some point one of the guys went down the stairs and I asked him what was going on upstairs, and he told me that the guy was fearing what his employers would do to him and especially his wife if he did what our boss wanted him to do, and that because of that fear he was not being really cooperative. So I gagged the wife with a strip of tape and asked him to bring the husband to us. He had been roughed up a little, and I let him rush to her but I told him to not remove the gag. He said some things to the girl, she started to cry but he hugged her and then I told him to break the contact. I let him explain the situation to me and the guys and his wife. Officially speaking his multi-billions employers were law-abiding dudes, actually if he did what we demanded they would send a team to ‘deal’ with him within minutes of him having done what we wanted. And it would be bloody and messy and it would involve both his wife and him...’

‘In that order? He said it in that order? First his wife and then him...’ – asked Mary.

‘Yes, and then I asked him if he had any trouble in receiving a beating from the boys in order to save his wife’s life and his own. He hadn’t. So I explained what was going to happen, he agreed and went upstairs to do what we wanted with his computer (and receive the beating, that was supposed to be ugly by his own request). I first removed the razor blade he had hid inside the glove on her left hand... (as if the guy hadn’t been clumsy enough she was clenching it!), gave her a sound slap on her exposed behind for it and then I proceeded to untie her... and replaced it all (minus in the legs) with the silver tape I was supposed to have taped her up with in the first place...’

‘But the beating...?’

‘Neither I nor her heard it, but it was a real deal one. And, after I added three more strips of tape to the one she already had over her lips, I blindfolded her with one of those blindfolds you use to sleep. She was really flexible and didn’t complained (much) about the way I taped her arms together from the elbows to the wrists... then I put all the kinky stuff (other fetishistic sets of lingerie or costumes, plus S&M restraining paraphernalia) in their boxes and guided her upstairs to where her husband and the guys were... (...) well...’

‘It was that bad?’ – asked Dora and Charity at the same time.

‘Two teeth gone, two black eyes, the nose was broken, bruises all over his torso and later we would learn that three ribs had been cracked! One of guys knew karate and tried a kick on him... and no it wasn’t Chuck Norris’ roundhouse kick (I thought the same though)! But the guy was actually thankful. He didn’t let me remove the wife’s blindfold and explained to her why it was so important for him to receive such a pounding!’

‘Let me guess... you were going to leave him untied and he was going to call the cops...’ – Mary asked, and seeing that Sondra wanted her to go on she continued – ‘...who would arrive at the scene before any punishing team arrived. The story would end up in the news and the whole commotion of a couple having an ‘sexy intimate moment’ interrupted by a group of unknown masked attackers, none of them would have physical descriptions that matched you or the guys you were working with that night, right?’

‘The wife was supposed to already have been blindfolded (by her own hand) when ‘we’ stroke, and thus only the husband would be able to give physical descriptions...’

‘Avoiding any conflict between her version and his, perfect!’

‘Well, you forgot that, just in case the cops lasted too long to arrive, we were supposed to make our escape as noisy as possible... but we didn’t had to...’

‘Why not?’ – asked all the others at the same time.

‘One of the guys saw a couple arriving at a house down the block when we were about to leave, so when we got out and went to our car... we were ‘so much’ in a hurry that we forgot to remove our masks! And of course, the teenage couple (apparently it was a date and he feared her dad as much as the husband feared his employers) saw us...’

Sondra gave a few more details (that did not broke the rules about confidentiality of the group) and asked who would be the next to tell her story. Dora raised her hand.

‘You guys ever heard of a big dame called Sasha Morelli?’

‘Six feet nine, strong but not musclebound and Jane-of-all-trades?’ – asked/answered Irma.

‘Yep, that’s her. What’s she’s doing nowadays BTW. I haven’t heard of her for a while...’

‘She was in a smuggling ring that the FBI and the Mounties busted six years ago, she did four years and was released and decided to go ‘straight’ from them on. Last I heard she was a bouncer at a lesbian bar in California... Sacramento if not mistaken...’

‘Well, do you guys know one of the most absurd I think about those bondage movies?’

‘You watch them?’ – asked (teasingly) both Charity and Irma.

‘Two or three because I once had a boyfriend that wanted me to allow myself... anyway he was a real jerk besides that. But there was this thing, this situation, that happened in all... four of them that I really didn’t liked at all. Ri-di-cu-lous!!! ’

‘Now they’re four?’ – asked Irma but I told her to shut up.

‘Well, for whatever reason that the excuse of a plot came up with, there was this girl, ‘A’, who had to tie up this other girl, ‘B’. She did so and there was the lengthy footage of ‘B’ ‘struggling’ in her bonds and somehow, not shown in any of the movies, she managed to get free and went to extract her revenge on ‘A’... But how did ‘A’ managed to overpower ‘B’ in the first place? And how did ‘B’ mange to turn the tables on ‘A’?’

‘I know that one, I am a friend of Cinnamon... remember? And she find that part of the 600+ movies that she has in her collection as stupid and dumb as you do...’ – Charity then looked at us and smiled before answering – ‘basically all that ‘A’ or ‘B’ has to do to subdue the other is handgag her, rather unconvincingly most of the times, without needing the threat of a gun or a knife or... Just come up from behind and place your right hand over your foe’s lips, the camera goes close up on her as she makes a look like... ‘SOS’!’

‘Exactly. Well, after that incident Sasha went to fight academies and learned something... but I am getting ahead of myself. We were working for Mull O’Bannon...’

‘Oh boy!’ – said everybody else, minus Gina and Fay, at the same time.

‘A guy that could have been someone really big ten years ago. But he simply did not trusted anybody except himself and that cost him everything... Anyway, we were working for him and a dude tried to blackmail him. There was this little piece of data that could expose Mull’s liaisons with some guy at the city hall, other people grabbed him and after a beating it was obvious that he was not going to tell where the data had been hid. So Mull went to his database, he was famous because of that database, and came up with a list of people that could be hiding the data for the soon-to-be-dead dude. He cut the list in three parts, made three teams out of the guys and gals he had at his disposal and we went in our ways. My list consisted of the single girls associated with the dude. First girl..., she’s not at home and me and Sasha trashed her place and found nothing. Second girl, she’s at home, we left her tied up in her pajamas over her own bed and trashed her place... nothing. Third girl arrived very late for work that day... if she did, and let me tell you that among them she was the ‘hottest’ one... if we ever knew WHO she would become today... I’d have taken a few pics. Nothing in her apartment as well. Fourth girl wasn’t home. And then there was the fifth girl...’

Instead of saying anything Dora looked at the window.

There was a row of large advertise panels down the street. One was of the newest movie of Justin Timberlake, the one next to it was of a sports drink and the last one was advertising a conservative talk show on the radio, hosted by...

‘‘Mel’ Blanco??!!!’ – said all the others as they looked dumfounded at her.

Amelia ‘Mel’ Cross Blanco, probably the only conservative radio talk show journalist that had dropped the ‘Kenyan-nonsense’ about the President (before he produced his ‘long-form’ birth certificate!), and who had rose to fame after...

‘So it was you?’ – Gina was the first to recover and make the obvious question.

‘No-it-was-NOT!’

By the look in her eyes it was obvious that she didn’t liked the very idea of having been the one that had saved Mel’s life, she wasn’t a rat after all.

‘When we broke in we could see that she was sun tanning bare breasted, she was facing the sun and whoever wanted to see her from the hill in front of her building would need a very potent telescope, and immerse in her own world thanks to whatever she was listening in her headphones, real big ones, so Sasha looked at me and mouthed ‘I’ll do it’. And you know how tall is that petite buxom dame? Not even five feet!’

Neither Gina nor Mary nor Sondra knew that she was that small.

‘So I went upstairs, I heard some commotion downstairs and went to her own room. In the list there was the info that she had a safe somewhere in there so I checked and it was under her bed, one minute to open it and there was the brown envelope with ‘to Dave’ wrote on it that I was looking for. I stood up, turned around and faced Mel... holding Sasha’s gun!’

‘She actually only bothered to handgag her?’

And Dora merely nodded. The others could not believe in it!

‘To give Sasha some credit, nothing in the file about Mel told us that she knew how to fight the way she does. She was, like me, an Army brat (whose father had been stationed at some base in South Korea). Like me said father put her through a thorough martial arts training because, like my old man, he believed that ‘no offspring of his should be allowed to not know how to defend himself/herself’ and thus, when Sasha went after her trusting in her looks and height and gun... she got KOed quite quickly!’

‘And ‘Miss Call-the-Cops’, all the boys in blue of the State must have a picture of her in their HQ’s!, didn’t called the cops because...?’ – asked Irma.

‘We had cut the wires so the landlines didn’t worked, and Sasha managed to stomp over the one that was near to Mel before being KO’d, so there was only another one upstairs in the same room where I was, or she could try to get out of the house, and get some help, while wearing that very revealing string bikini...’

‘No deal... I listen to her sometimes and I distinctly recall her saying... answering to one of her listeners that with somebody inside your home and without knowing if this person(s) is armed or not, the only reasonable thing is lock yourself somewhere and...’

‘Call the cops!’ – said all women at once, a bit too loud. One of the waitresses looked at them and asked them if it was because of the advertising poster. They nodded as if they had been caught stealing from the cookie jar by their mother and she sighed...

‘So she grabbed the now taped and gagged, and bare-breasted... Don’t ask... I believe that Sasha made some unfair comment about their size or about she tanning herself with them bare... who knows? Sasha didn’t told me and Mel wasn’t in position to say anything after we were through... But, please allow me to return to the point I was before... the bare-breasted Sasha and hid her, grabbed her gun and checked it and....Here I am standing with my arms reaching high, and she pointing Sasha’s gun at me and I decide to take a step closer and she pulled the trigger... and nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ – only Irma didn’t asked that.

‘Nothing, the gun was jammed. Oh, it had ammunition, real deal ammunition but there was something, probably with the hammer, in it that made it just a piece of metal in your hand. I tried to grab my gun and she jumped on me and... do you guys know about that fight between Roddy Piper and Keith David in ‘They Live’? It’s about an alien invasion that has already happened and this ordinary guy, Roddy, discovers that accidentally when he picks up a pair of sunglasses and, through it, is able to see with them the subliminal messages that the aliens uses to control the people, and also the real appearance of the aliens that, without those sunglasses, are seen as normal people. He tries to make his buddy, Keith, see through the sunglasses and the guy won’t gonna do that and he wants and they start to fight and spend the next what... seven minutes?... fighting, and both guys fought for real...’

‘Minus the head and the groin, they rehearsed that fight and only faked the blows to there... (...) What? (...) It’s one of my favorite fight scenes!’ – said Mary.

‘Well, my fight with Mel lasted for the double of that, at least...’

And she described, very graphically, how they started in the bedroom, took a quick trip to the bathroom, went back and forth the corridor, entered the guest room, went out of the guest room, rolled together down the stairs and...

‘...and we both stood up, panting hard, and facing each other. Seeing her bare breasted made me realize that I was still holding her string bikini top, so I threw it away. I took I step forward, she did the same and we both knew that the other was putting everything she had in that last punch! I dodged hers, she didn’t made the same with mine... we both felt on the floor at the same time but, moments later, she was still out when I grabbed her bikini top and tied her hands behind her back with it. Next I used her bikini bottom to tie her knees together and, since my T-shirt was torn in four different points I shredded some strips from it to tie her ankles crossed and gag her. Next I stopped pretending that I had any strength left and lied on the floor, face down, for a while as I tried to remember what I should do to stand up. She was coming as I finally managed to get some energy back, and then I went to look for Sasha. She was under the coffee table in front of the TV, hogtied and gagged in a taut package with the tape she intended to use on Mel, but what was left on the roll was more than enough to Sasha extract some revenge from Mel as I went back upstairs. I checked Sasha’s gun and mine, and both were worthless. Then I grabbed my cellphone and ordered a pizza at Bro Moon’s Pizzas...’

Half the ladies at the table understood what she meant with that, the other half realized that there was a catch in that phrase but couldn’t understand what was it.

‘‘Bro Moon Pizzas’ was a delivery service that operated under the guise of a pizza delivery that lasted for about a decade, until the cops got wise. If you were in need of a gun (most usually) or an information or pretty much anything that could be delivered with the pizza... all you had to do was call one particular number among the seven/eight that were available. There was a code that varied from month to month and if you said that code you would be identified as a special client, then all you had to do was to ask for a normal pizza and ask for a ‘special topping’, no matter what the guy said the order was always the same; ‘gun’ and then ‘ammo’ and then drugs and finally ‘something else’(in that case you would receive first the pizza, then you would have to explain what you wanted and the delivery man would pretend that he hadn’t been noticed that he had to bring change). ‘Two extra pepperoni and lots of onions’ I ordered, or two guns and more than enough ammo. I went downstairs to find Sasha finishing to use a second roll of tape on Mel’s body... she looked like a very furious (and impotent) mummy even with her arms solidly taped up behind her back with each hand taped to the other elbow... She then grabbed the cocooned Latina and took her upstairs, and used more tape on her after she put her to bed! She really intended to leave that ultra tight package behind... As we got our pizza, and it was delicious! (they really knew how to make a pepperoni one...), I explained what had happened to Sasha, more or less at the same time that we got a call from Mull, we made our plans and then we told Mel the bogus story that she eventually told the cops after they rescued her...’

And that was all that she said about her ‘experience’!

The T-E-A-S-E!!!!

The ‘bogus story’ (as she called it) had been 90% of the TV movie ‘Betrayal’s Payback’ that depicted Mel’s ordeal from the moment she accepted to hide the envelope for that ex-boyfriend of hers, Dave-something, till the cops (alerted by a homeless junkie that had been paid to call them) burst into a backroom in one of Mull’s less known enterprises and found her. But, it as happened in the TV movie, Dora conceded that hers and Sasha’s good deed earned them some trouble after Mull got in touch with his East Coast buddies...

‘...unlike in the movie I was never threatened with a hot iron by some guy demanding to know if I was the one that had ratted on Mull, they were rough (but not that rough) with me and as far as I can tell Sasha went though the same kind of inquiry in Boston, but then that cop recognized the voice of the woman that made the call and we were off the hook when the junkie said that a man paid her to do that call...’

‘Finished? My turn...’ – started Charity – ‘As I said before I know Cinnamon, and more than once she was watching some of her custom made movies when I dropped by...’

The fact that a non-lesbian and/or non-submissive (and without any inclination towards B&D) woman, especially one as beautiful as Charity still was, if there was someone who could ever be a jungle girl it was her (blonde, busty and don’t get fooled by her top model looks if you ever engage on a hand-to-hand fight with her!), could be friend of Cinnamon was a little known fact, and mostly doubted by those who heard it for the first time. The fact that Charity was much more than used to all possible angles of Cinnamon’ sexuality, but never participated of any of them, made it even harder to believe but it was true.

‘...and they were all about hitchhikers. Little did I knew that less than a month later I would be facing a situation like depicted in the movie. As you may be already thinking, in all the movies the hitchhikers were gorgeous gals that were hitchhiking wearing revealing outfits: tight fitting trousers, daisy dukes and their tops were really small... (or even bikini tops!). And she said that some of the custom videos were actually her own version of remakes of 1980’s and 90’s bondage movies, that she had in her collection, with the same subject! Anyway, a month later I was on a job in the outskirts of **********, **...’

As the friendly tease was expecting, all the women’s eyes bulged at the same time.

‘...when things went horribly bad! Suddenly police was all around the house where me and the others were hiding, while waiting for the night to come so we could do that job, and I was arriving there with the groceries I went to buy in my hands, they didn’t let me use the car, so I could only watch as the police stormed the place... And although I hadn’t left any (fake) document with my picture on it behind, and my fingerprints are still matchless in all their databases, there was I: penniless, weaponless and with only the clothes I had around my body! So I went on my way after my former partners were taken away... walked into an alley, gave to a bum most of the groceries for ten dollars (all the money that he had), ate and drunk the rest and tried to find my way back home... hitchhiking.’

‘It was you?’ – asked both Mary and Dora.

She nodded with a Cheshire smile plastered all over her face.

‘After like one fruitless hour this old car stops by, a real relic from the 50’s with tailfin and all and a large trunk. And at the wheel...’

‘Felicity Krauterman?’ – asked Irma.

‘And Mae Bonnton on the passenger’ seat?’ – asked Gina.

‘Themselves! To me they looked like a pair of old ladies, one white and the other black, in their what, 70’s? Felicity was at the wheel and Mae was at her side, so I sat in the back seat and they told me that they would leave me 50 miles away from that place, near *********. But actually they went in the opposite direction, which put me on guard as I played dumb. And there was that weird looking thing in the backseat at my right, it did look like a dog collar but it was so out of place! I asked what was it for as we were already out of that town and Felicity, without taking her eyes of the road, said...’

‘It’s to collar you my dear’ – said four of the women at the same time. They still could not believe that Charity was actually such a famous (and unknown) heroine!

She was ‘Francine Doe’?!!!

‘And, of course, Mae was by now pointing that infamous .38 at me. Felicity told me to shut up and don’t move as she drove for like twenty minutes, she then took a dirt road and went through it for about five minutes. Then she stopped behind a derelict house and they told me to get out. I left the car and Mae threw me a pair of handcuffs and told me to put them on behind my back, next they ziptied me, and like America’s Most Wanted did in their reenactment of the whole deal they didn’t changed their MO with me... – which meant that two zipties were used to tie her arms together, another two to anchor them to her torso and lastly two (crisscrossed) to enhance even more her bust - ...and I was gagged with a long white scarf. And they put the dog collar on me! I tried to back down but Mae said just ‘Tut-tut...’ and waived the gun inches away from my head... Then they shoved me inside the trunk and back to the road they went, and I went all the way during those two hours ride inside that hot trunk! It was soundproof thanks to that shady deal they had made with that mechanic of Dallas, but while I got some (hot) air I sweated a lot! But, fortunately for me, they didn’t ordered me to strip before I was told to handcuff myself... because all those movies of girls hitchhiking and then being grabbed and tied and all that, and in some case extremely roughly manhandled and verbally abused, made me take a little precaution from them on... Yeah, I know... I am still that suggestible... but it saved my life and their lives as well, right? Namely, a very good and resistant razor blade and a piece of wire good and thick enough to unlock those handcuffs, both safely taped to the inside part of my trousers. After they locked the trunk I waited for a minute and started to peel the tape, and after I grabbed the wire it was a matter of seconds and not minutes to get myself free. But I stopped halfway when I heard Mae saying to Felicity: ‘See? I told you we could take one for me... now the set is complete!’, and I froze in place. ‘Set’? What the **** did she meant with that? Who were those two old hags? And they answered me... big time!’

‘And that’s why you did not sneaked out of the trunk when you had the chance?’

‘Yes D...Mary, by the time they stopped at that roadside restaurant, so Felicity could go to the ladies room, they had told me enough about why I wasn’t going to let them do what they wanted with me and the others. I mean, it’s not like they liked the sound of their own voices, but Mae had (apparently) been so demanding with her request of ‘one girl like me for me (to watch her die)’ to Felicity that, now that she thought that she had one she simply could not control herself! And Felicity soon was ecstatic with her larger ‘lot’! Truth be told, not for a single moment they said anything that meant that I (and the others) was going to suffer any other torture other than starve to death, but the way they described how we would be tied up and shackled and such and forced to watch them prepare exquisite recipes, delicious desserts or just bread and butter! And eat it ever so sloooowly while we mewled in despair behind our gags... Oh man... I really wish I had the nerve to...!!!’

‘Hold on a moment!’ – I said and pretended that we wanted another round, each one of us minus Charity took her time in choosing her drink (and the waitress was smart enough to see that something was going on with Charity and played her part as well, offering a lot of useless ‘suggestions’) and after four or five minutes Irma and Mary (Charity’s best friends from back then) nodded at me, and I restarted it all.

‘And after the two hours’ ride?’ – I asked.

‘Well, I could see that we were arriving there, wherever their home was located because all of a sudden the asphalt road became a dirt road, we went on for about two or three minutes and the car maneuvered and went back, and they stopped. I heard something opening the car went back a little more and the garage’s door was closed...’

‘But why did they not took you out of the trunk right away?’ – asked Dora.

‘‘Oh, she? She can wait a while more in there... come... let’s prepare the others for her introduction to our pack of bitches...’ – she answered apparently imitating Felicity’s voice through gritted teeth. Some of the others said a few lewd words before she resumed.

‘I counted to three hundred as slowly as I could under the circumstances and worked on the lock of the trunk. For some reason they had it oiled enough to not make any sound as I opened it, at least that!, I crept into the house through the door that lead to the kitchen. There was that **** table in front of me sat (and being tied to the bolted sturdy chair by Mae at that very moment) with her back to me was Sammy Eaton, across the table (already overly tied to her chair) and with eyes suddenly bulging with surprise was Joan Small... and how her surname was inadequate! I mean, all of us had been chosen by those... two... because of our bra size and long and lean legs... but she was also the tallest of us four!... anyway... it was like in the AMW’s reenactment, save for the fact that they were buck naked... the chairs had arms and their forearms had been tied almost completely to each correspondent one, there was enough rope lashing their torsos to the back of the chairs to tie up both girls plus yours truly, but then again... the idea of that absurd tie-up was to purposely overly tie them (‘us’ if I had been caught) and mock their ample breasts...’

‘You mean that...’

‘Joan’s had been crisscrossed and then squashed by her share of ropes, Sammy’s... well the rope had been wrapped around the base and then... can we change the subject?’ – all of us nodded and she went on – ‘Anyway..., each girl’s leg was similarly overly tied to its chair leg, and Mae was busy cinching all the knots she had used on and around Sammy’s waist. The back of the chairs had dozens of holes in it so they could pass the rope the way they saw fit in order to entrap their captive to it, and from what I know they never repeated the same tie-up with any of the girls, but as I was saying Mae cinched this and that and that other knot... stood up and patted Sammy’s head while saying ‘Ta-dah...’, Sammy mewled in despair and then both saw Joan’s enormously bulged eyes... looking past Mae’s body...’

‘She really did try to grab the gun?’ – asked Fay.

‘Yes.’

‘And found out that you had it in YOUR right hand...’ – asked while pointing at Charity’s right hand with both index fingers Gina – ‘as soon as you allowed her to turn around?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you did knocked her out cold with a single punch before she could...?’ – Me.

‘...Warn Felicity? Yes. I should not be proud of it, I shouldn’t feel this good just to think about her expression... stupefaction, incredulity... whatever it was it was... yummy!... and then she opened her mouth and I knew that I had to do it. I mean, the other day I heard about a punk that was arrested after punching (and KO’ing) an old woman that was much younger than Mae was... I started to feel my blood boiling after the TV showed a pic of the poor old lady, until I realized that I actually still feel good...’

Before she could even finish the phrase ALL of us were saying/explaining the differences between the delinquent’s act and her own... but none of us was more emphatic than Mary.

‘Don’t you even DARE to feel bad about punching that *****! It was a matter of life or death, principally Arabella’s (even if you didn’t knew it at the time!) but also Joan’s and Samantha’s and YOURS!!! So don’t you ******* DARE to feel bad or I’ll...’

‘...will sit down before you attract even more attention from the other patrons!’ – Irma’s tone of voice, and push down on Mary’s left shoulder, made us look around and see the commotion we had just enacted. So we came up with this excuse...

‘Her boyfriend slept with her cousin...’ – I started...

‘...and we’re helping her to plan her royal revenge...’ – added Dora.

‘...but this idiot is starting to feel like ‘forgive and forget’!’ – completed Mary.

A few women on the next tables said or mouthed stuff like ‘Do NOT do it!’ and ‘Let HIM get what he deserves, baby!’, and we returned to Charity’s unbelievable confession.

‘OK... ok... but I did felt like that, alright? Anyway... right fist and left elbow, both to her chin and she’s out, her body started to slide against Samantha’s ‘chair’... that thing was more like a throne!... and I was by Sammy’ side covering her already crudely gagged lips with both my hands! Joan also started to get agitated (and noisy) so I did ended up the way that straight-to-video portraits the following moments...’

‘Sprawled over that table... one hand stretching out to handgag Joan while you kept the other over Samantha’s tape and cloth covered lips?’ – asked Irma.

‘Yep... quite ridiculous, but that’s more or less what happened... (...) actually it was very ridiculous the whole thing, the way I opened both my arms, the way I was contorted over the (fortunately not very large) table... maybe one day I’ll laugh after I picture myself again in that situation... It’s the only thing in the whole story that looks that way...’

‘Back to their and your rescue?’ – Demanded/asked Gina, with all the others nodding.

‘After like thirty seconds they both calmed down and I whispered to them ‘I am going to tape this ******* your chair... Sammy, isn’t it?’... and she nodded as it was obvious that she was trying to understand how could I know her name? But let’s be honest, how could she know (at the moment) that I had heard Felicity identifying all of them during that two hours rant of them? Blonde = Samantha, brunette = Joan and redhead = Arabella...’

‘She couldn’t.’ – Me and Irma said together as the others nodded afterward.

‘A quick, but very effective job and Mae’s hands were tied behind one of the chair’s back legs, a simple strip of tape over her lips and I grabbed the meanest knife I saw in the third drawer I opened behind the now hopeful Joan and I started to wonder where the hell they had been stashed. I had heard Felicity talking something about ‘a bare mattress for each bitch...’ but where did they kept it? I turned to the girls and mouthed ‘where is the other?’ but before they could answer me I heard the answer...’

‘So... Felicity actually...’ – asked Hannah.

‘Went up the stairway that led to the basement yelling (better than it looked like she could do it) to Mae to come down and help her take Arabella upstairs? Yep, and she made it clear that Arabella was to be tied up to the chair so she could die in front of my (and the others’) eyes! I quickly located the door that exposed the stairway, right beyond the entrance of the kitchen, and hid in the hallway... She went straight to the kitchen..., she didn’t even glanced in other direction!... and then she was struck with the sight of Mae’s gagged face appearing somewhere behind Sammantha’s chair. And I said ‘Hey... bitch!’ and she looked over her shoulders and at me and the gun and knife I held in my hands... and fainted.’

‘Just like that?’ – Dora’s incredulity mirrored our own.

‘Just like that. I cautiously approached the prone body but I soon realized that it was for real, she saw me and my rage and whatever else that was plastered over my face at that moment and fainted... and I heard a distinct (and actually barely audible) mewl coming from downstairs... from the basement. So without any care if I was going to break one of her arms or both or anything like that I taped... there were rolls of tape and rope and packs of zipties and pre-cut packed strands of rope all over the table before I jumped over it... now most were sprawled on the floor... so I grabbed the nearest thing, a roll of silver tape, and used it on Felicity. Just for mine and the others’ security I pulled her body under the table and against the vacant chair next to Joan’s, then I raised her legs and taped them against one of the front legs of the chair, and then I ran to the basement.’

She actually didn’t told us much as to how was the state of Arabella when she found her lying on that dirty bare mattress. She only said that it was obvious that she was going to die if she wasn’t taken ASAP to an hospital, that she barely had any trouble in freeing Arabella from her bonds (whatever they were) and the only thing that Arabella said (after the ballgag – she admitted that it was one – was removed) was ‘my medicine’ before she passed out.

‘...But what medicine was that? And where did those two ******* had hid or threw it? I had no time, simply put I had no time. So I grabbed her and took her upstairs, and she wasn’t exactly light! Or maybe all that forced inactivity inside the trunk was finally taking its toll? Anyway I rushed her upstairs and past the kitchen and straight to the car. Then I returned and as best as possible, and it wasn’t that bad of a job, I cut the ropes holding both Joan and Samantha to their chairs... not a difficult job... But to both girls’ amazement as soon as Joan moved her freed hands to ungag herself I held her hands in a tight, firm and quite desperate lock. And I said ‘I cannot allow you both to be completely free for the moment’... their despair was heartbreaking! But I was in my most rational mode possible. I had to get them out of that house, I had to take Arabella to an hospital BUT I could not afford to forget for one moment that just hours before the fifteenth different local law enforcement corporation, of the seventh different state!, had (probably and actually) picked my fingerprints. I was on the run, I had to take care of myself... and them as well!’

‘So you used zipties...?’ – I started to ask.

‘To lock Joan’s elbows behind her back as gently yet efficiently as possible? Yes. With Sammy I had to use force, she got more than just frantic when her arms were free... but soon both were standing in front of me, naked and with their arms and hands bound and taped and ziptied behind their back and I told them that I was a criminal, a criminal-on-the-run. So I was going to take them to the garage and lock them inside the trunk, I was going to drive Arabella to the nearest hospital and leave her there, with something to make as much noise as possible to attract everybody’s attention and the trunk’s lid open. In less than one hour it would be over for them and Arabella, and the police would be warned about those still unconscious ******** and their plans towards us four!’

‘And them?’ – asked Mary.

‘Mewled in despair, disbelief and shattered hopes until the very moment I closed the lid, after I put them both in a bearable hogtie, the only way they both could fit inside the trunk! Then I suddenly remembered... ‘Where I am’?’

‘Excuse-me?’ – said/almost yelled all of us at the same time.

‘I hadn’t the slightest idea of where exactly the house where I had been taken to was located! Oh, sure, it was somewhere in the outskirts of the nearest town. Conveniently far away from its nearest neighbor and all that... but what town was that? I knew a lot of towns and regions from half the states from my wandering days. So I dashed back inside the house, Felicity was finally waking up as I first passed by her side, and I found both ladies purses over a table in the living room. A few bills told me their whole names and the address of that house, and I realized that I had never ever had heard of that town in my life! Where could be located the nearest hospital? But I hadn’t time for that... So I dashed back to the car and you know what Felicity did when I passed by her again?’

‘Shot death stares at you?’ – Dora’s answer was met with a friendly/mocking smile.

‘Cursed you under that gag?’ – My answer only earned a slow shake of the head.

‘Complained that the awkward position you had placed her was hurting her?’ – Charity looked at Irma first with surprise... then intrigued with her correct answer – ‘Hello-o? Old lady? Taped with her arms behind her back, over a cold floor (I saw pictures of that kitchen and I know how those tiles can be cold!) and with her legs taped the way you said you taped them? You only would have done that if the hag deserved it...!’

‘And it’s true?’ – Fay’s surprised mirrored Mary’s and Hannah’s.

‘Yes. She begged me to untape her because it was starting to hurt... no packing on the gag because I hadn’t had time for that, so I only looked at while refraining my wish to kick her mercilessly and went back to the garage. Minutes later I was back on the road and there was that big sign saying ‘Welcome to ***************!!!’ and I knew that I was in the right direction! Arabella was totally unresponsive by now and I was fearing the worst when I saw it. A roadside gas station right a quarter of a mile of the town’s entrance!’

And then she told how she drove into that station and stormed it. In one minute she was out of there riding a stolen dirt bike, the police had been warned that there had been a robbery ‘and a weird situation’ at the station and the ambulance she had seen refueling in the station was taking Arabella to the county’s hospital. Two minutes later both Joan and Samantha were being freed of their bonds by a female patron (Tayanna White), a big and fat old lady that shoved all men away from the car with curses and treats and ordered that two of the men removed their suits to give them something to cover themselves. By the time the bike was found she had already robbed another vehicle and was moving in the opposite direction she had moved so far. She found Felicity and Mae’s credit and ATM cards in their purses (along with the codes to them scribbled in a sheet of paper) and paid herself a good dinner and a bus passage, and cashed all that she could with them, with them but...

‘By the time we reached halfway my destination that accursed portrait, how could I know that Joan was such a talented (and naively do-goody!) artist?, was in all papers! I know that NOW she regrets having done it. Now she felts like that, but back then?’

‘What did you do?’ - asked Fay.

‘Well, we stopped at this place in the middle of nowhere, there was this stand with magazines and papers and MY FACE in all of the papers!!! And that accursed nickname...’

‘But why ‘Francine Doe’?’ – Dora was the first to make the inevitable question

‘Because when Mae and Felicity introduced themselves to me I said that my name was ‘Fran’. A Jane Doe called ‘Fran’... ‘Fran Doe’... ‘Francine Doe’. But why ‘Francine’? Why oh why ‘Francine’???!!!! ‘Fran’ could be from ‘Frances’, ‘Francesca’...’

We all laughed at that remark. Charity... the African-American answer to any busty bleach blonde Playmate of the Year... ‘Francesca’? Come on!

That stunt earned her, to this day, jokes about her famiglia, her mamma, her nonna and the likes. At that time one of the women in a nearby table asked us if we had found out the perfect revenge. Irma, who caught up what she meant the fastest, said yes and smiled the most wicked way possible for an human being...

‘Anyway... I had to, again, steal a bike after I told everybody to get out of the stop, I rode through back roads and the likes for twice the amount of time I had planned to arrive to a safe house, my cousin’s.... the place belonged to a cousin of mine. I stayed there for a couple of months and went back to business...’

‘But about Arabella, Joan or Samantha?’ – asked Mary.

‘I never ever saw neither Arabella nor Samantha in the flesh...’

‘And what about Joan?’ – asked Irma and the others.

And Charity only smiled, which was my cue...

‘Charity will tell us about her ‘revenge’ against ‘so ungrateful’ Joan another night... Does anyone have another story?’ – Irma said that LeeAnn, who hadn’t managed to be present due to a family’s emergency, had quite the story about roomates and bondage (and our rules forbid expressly to have others telling your story), and of the others who had any story to tell it was all the usual ‘interrupting a couple during a kinky sex session and leaving them both tied up and gagged’ or the likes... so they all were ready for my tale.

‘You guys realized that Sondra, Dora and Charity have all deviated from the original path you had chosen for the stories of tonight. Oh yes, they had all told about what happened in the real world, with them, when they were confronted with situation that were, and still are, common in the bondage video business...’

‘And you know that because?’ – asked Irma.

‘When I was ordered to go ‘clean’ I worked five years for a bondage video production & website company called ‘The Devious Girls Snatchers’ – I answered nonchalantly.

My calm answer took everybody by surprise.

‘And you...’

‘95% of the time I was responsible for tying up those naked or half-naked (rarely they were dressed, but never for too long) gals before and during the photo sessions and when the videos were made. In the other 5%, in which I actually appeared in front of the camera, I had a hood or a mask and never showed my face. There were these three or four times when a model called ‘Kathleen Sinner’ (or Debra Lee something) appeared as myself when I was to have been overpowered by my former captives, or their rescuing beloved beaus or family or my doublecrossing thugs... she was tied up and gagged by me (and it was a bit weird to tie up a gal with more or less the same body that you have and wearing the same clothes you’re wearing!), but still appeared hooded in part of the pics or videos.’

‘Why?’

I blushed, but I had committed myself to tell them the truth...

‘The identity of the mysterious ‘Hooded Nasty Gal’, don’t laugh!... STOP IT!!! ALL of you!!!... Her real identity was something that all our customers kept talking about with ourselves or among themselves, part of the mojo of the whole deal. Everybody knew who was the face of the company, everybody knew who were the models that worked there... but who was actually responsible for the bondage?’

Their eyes and smiles said everything I did not wanted to know about what was passing through those deviant minds... Eventually I would be ‘coerced’ somehow to show some of my ‘work’ to them, maybe tell some stories about the ‘behind the cameras’ stuff...

‘You never...’ – asked Mary.

‘Never. It was a job and I was good at it, really good. The gal in charge died in a car wreck and the site and company closed, but every now and then a model calls me at Thanksgiving or at my birthday... or when she needs someone who is going to tie her up nice and tight for a customized photo shoot, but not going to ogle her or the likes. And I am straight...’

‘OK... I got it... we got it... but you were saying about me and the others deviating...?’

‘Well Charity, you and the others also told us stories in which, for that particular occasion, you became heroines. Heroines that saved lives, that kind of heroine, for one day (or night). And I have to ask you gals, does anyone else have a similar story?’

Fay and Mary were habitués of the campaign centers to send help to this or that city/area affected by a flooding or an earthquake or a twister... Hannah donated blood like a clock and the others went more or less in that way...

‘Well, for me, I have a tale about the time I saved one girl’s life, maybe two or three girls actually, and at the same time there were these situation quite common in bondage videos that happened for real with me and that/those gal(s). But it wasn’t a common and regular girl who had her life saved by yours truly. She was an undercover federal agent...’

Ten... no five years before that last phrase would have earned me scorn and hate and despise from the lot of them. Maybe I would end up punched a few times but certainly I would hear some treats against my life and physical health... plus the usual considerations about my mother’s source of income and such other ‘compliments’...

Minus Mary they all looked at me like I had said something incredible. And Mary surprised us all, especially myself, when she pointed her right index finger to all of the others...

‘Before ANYONE starts thinking **** about her, let’s be clear that she hadn’t any option at all! A FBI gal was going to show up dead with a bullet in her head and all the proofs would pinpoint to who? Her corpse!’ – she finished pointing at me.

After I managed to recover from the shock she explained herself...

‘Do you remember when, afterwards, you drove that van to that place with four bound and gagged dames riding along with you? There were five other vehicles in that place’s garage: a red SUV and a limousine with problems in their conditioning, an armored Mercedes with some serious problem in its engine, a Porsche that was being ‘customized’...’

‘...and that regular Avalon under which somebody was doing something that wasn’t of my concern... and that somebody was you?’

‘Who else? That’s what I did back then... and I still do nowadays. I am a mechanic. And the noise of four bound and gagged dolls; one of them half furious/half scared to her core, another more like biding her time and the other two already in ‘tears of desperation mode’ (even if one of them was faking it); can be quite unusual in a garage, so of course I asked around what had happened, who were those undressed dames and the Xena-like Amazon that had brought them... Don’t laugh!!! She deserved to be called that back then!!!’

Today my haircut is usually short, not military cut (short!), but short. Save for Mary I don’t think that none of them had ever seen me back then. They knew my fame and I believe that all know that I was that ‘DJ Dietz’, but to them I am ‘Norma’... and I am not as beautiful as Lucy Lawless was/is, but I am still as athletic as she was in the series...

‘Do you guys know what is a honey-trapper?’

‘A very hot lady employed by a wife scheming to have her hubbie having an affair with the lady so she can divorce him because of the affair?’ – asked/answered Gina.

‘More or less, she can also be employed for blackmailing purposes... or just to pretend that she wants to have an affair with the husband... or wife, they are also used by lesbians... Well, in that case it was for blackmail. A smoking hot blonde babe, picture a gal that could be seen in bed with Charlie Sheen in either of his last TV series... she was hotter than that!, and she was hired by a member of the board of a company in San Diego so he could force another (married) member of that board to vote according to his wishes and needs in an upcoming very important reunion. But for some reasons, that were not of my concern, I was told to grab her and take her to a safe place and make sure that her kidnapping was noticed by at least three co-workers of hers in that company (she was posing as guess what? A secretary...). So I read the files my employer gave me about her and the company, went there in a Friday near 4 PM and... there was a raid happening in that company.’

‘Come again?’ – asked Fay.

‘The FBI gal’s cover had been blown, the group of ******** she had managed to infiltrate was supposed to wait for Monday night to raid that company, but she was caught and they knew that the FBI would be around at that time they anticipated their plans. I realized that as soon as I entered the three floors building, but I pretended to have been giving a wrong address and be from out of town and left the building. Right in front of it there was this coffee shop, and if there was a more obvious place to have a lookout... A mid-to-late twenties Asian dame in a business suit, she was so bad at pretending to be something else!, I called my boss and minutes later I sat at her table...’

I quickly described the ensuing negotiation and how ‘my boss’ got in touch with her boss and how everything was planned to happen afterwards, and how I was ‘betrayed’ (as if I had not been warned that it would happen!) as soon as I reentered the building with her.

‘The security guard pulled a gun on me as I was searched by the Chinese moll while we went down to a parking sublevel, there I was ordered to get inside a parked car’s trunk and left there for like twenty minutes... and as they had predicted it was hot inside it!’

‘DNA?’ – simply asked Irma.

‘And fingerprints and fibers... the whole lot. After she was murdered she would be found inside that trunk, the one her cover ID used, somewhere far away and it would point at me. After the twenty or more minutes they told me to get inside the car and grab the wheel and gearstick and the dashboard. After I got outside the car she gave me the keys, told me to grab them tightly and got them back and put them inside a plastic bag...’

I then told them how I ended up in that room on the second floor after a ‘tour’ around the building in which I was forced to leave behind fingerprints in many other rooms.

‘We had just passed a closed, locked and guarded room where I could hear very distinct (albeit not loud) ‘MPPPHHHs’, there were a couple of rooms just closed without guards or sounds coming from them and there was this were the same sound emerged from... the ‘guard’ opened it and there they were... all the women that were inside the building when the ten or twenty heavily armed dudes stormed in.’

‘And the dames were like in the movies?’

‘Yes and no. There were... twelve... thirteen women inside that room. Two were in their sixties or seventies. One was in her late teens. The others were between twenty and forty. Save for the teenager all were wearing business suits of various shapes and sizes, minus three of them who had been forced to undress almost completely... they had been tied up wearing only their panties! One was the federal agent (early thirties white gal with black hair and a mean black eye, around the right one, another the honey-trapper (and she was even more beautiful than in the picture I had in my back pocket!) and the third an equally very enticing and voluptuous (albeit slightly overweighed) girl. All women inside that room had been gagged with white tape and blindfolded with (I would later learn) was what remained of some of the captured men’s shirts, but as for the tie-up it varied... they had at least been soft with the old dames, but if needed any proof that they were (also) perverts it was in the way they had roped the two topless buxom dames! So while over half the room had been tied up like in a regular movie or episode of a TV show, those three came straight from a bondage video but, unlike with those models’ faked outrage and despair...’

‘And then...?’ – asked Gina it was very obvious that not only her had been hooked by my tale! Even Mary was loving to learn my side of the story she already knew.

‘By that time the Chinese moll had long returned to her ‘post’ and had been substituted by a burly dude. Then three others showed up and one of them had this gun inside a plastic bag he’s holding with one of his hands. He was the one in charge and ordered me to grab the gun and shoot the woman in the middle of the topless trio, and he made it loud and clear that I was supposed to kill her, not just grease or maim her...’

‘Loud and clear?’ – the underneath subtle question was very obvious in Irma’s voice.

‘Yep, they were going to leave the other gals alive so they would testify that they had heard a man’s voice give the order, the camera inside that room suddenly went back on so it catch me (and only me) inside that room with the captive gals when I killed the undercover lady and all that... The gun of course had only ONE bullet in its clip and (offscreen) two semi-automatic rifles were now pointing at me...’

And then I was back to that absolute tension moment. All women had started to cry and whimper and everything you can imagine as the meaning of the words that had been barked at me sunk in their minds, the teenage babe (barely 19 if that much) was the worst case... but the federal dame? She was calm, defiant and proud and eerily calm!

Somebody poked my left shoulder, it was Hannah.

‘Sorry... it wasn’t my favorite moment... I standing there, in the middle of all the wailing captives and in front of the only one that wasn’t crying or... it still creeps me how... she was facing me... I know that I said that she was blindfolded (and she was!)!!!... but even without seeing me it was like she was eye-on-eye... anyway, I must have stood there more than the dude in charge liked, cause he motioned for me to come closer with my hand down...’ – and I showed how he had extended the middle and the index finger of his right hand and use them to do all that without saying a word – ‘...and I get close to him and he says: ‘we can easily kill all of them and the men in the other room and YOU will still get the blame for all of that!’. And none of you can imagine WHAT happened next... and shut up Mary!!!’ – I finished pointing both indexes to Mary.

One by one they gave their try. None came closer than Sondra with her ‘rescuers barged into that hallway’ try. It was what happened, fifteen seconds after the masked guy at the leader’s right, who was pointing his rifle at me sneezed loudly, and then pointed the rifle against the ***** right temple. You should have seen their faces when I told them that!

‘The guy guarding the room where the men had been stashed made a movement like he was going to aim his rifle at the masked rescuer when he heard the command ‘Drop it!’ and he looks back to the entrance of the hallway and suddenly there twelve to fifteen masked men in full body SWAT-like armors, but they weren’t cops, coming from that side and from the other side of the hallway three dames, wearing the same outfit, arrives with their guns drawn and cutting any chance of escape. I pretended that I was Lindell and the leader’s groin was the ball that I had to kick to Kingdom Come...’

And for the next two minutes I had to explain to all those baseball and ice hockey fans who was Rian Lindell. I still can’t believe that some of them never watched a Monday Night Football (or do a superb job of pretending that they never did it)!

But in the end Dora and Fay highfived me and I resumed.

‘Anyway, behind the three dames came this masked lady who obviously was either a nurse or a doctor. She went straight to each woman and checked their heartbeat, asked them if they were in pain or the likes... and engaged in a fight with the teenage babe, who was but a member of the raiders’ team! She wasn’t even really taped up!’

‘No way!’ said or mouthed all of them.

‘One of the ‘SWAT’ ladies jumped on the duo, as they were locked completely into their fight, and grabbed the gun that was in the ‘teenage’’s right hand, turns out that the gal was one of these people that even in her/his thirties can still pretend that she/he is a teenager and convince everybody of that. She simply hadn’t aged enough to physically match her age!’

‘And after the gun was off her hand?’

‘The SWAT ladies, all three of them, had her really taped up and gagged and almost mummified in less than three minutes. That’s when I heard a beating happening. You guys remember that I said that there was this other buxom, and slightly overweighed, dame? She was my boss’ spy in that company, and the girlfriend/fiancée of the meanest and biggest dude among the guys that had overpowered those who had overpowered her. Apparently, before going to where he ended up receiving that pounding, his victim had went to one of the six/seven places in the building were my boss’ agents had placed mikes and cameras...’

Irma made the ‘STOP!’ sign and I stopped my recounting.

‘Your boss... both yours and Mary’s, it was the Duchess, right?’

And for the next minutes all the ladies discussed among themselves, practically leaving me and Mary outside of their chat, all that they knew about the Duchess’ first businesses in the US. They ended up correctly identifying my story as an inside description of the ‘Terry O’Toole’s Debut Case’, when the Duchess imploded the plans of a group based in San Francisco of taking control of a shipment of high tech military grade weapons... but the FBI took the credit for it, specially the infamous (among us that is) Special Agent T. O’Toole.

‘You saved Terry O’Toole’s life? You bitch!’ – Hannah almost slapped me and left the table in a very stormy way. In the following morning she showed up at my door and apologized. Yes, Terry was the responsible for her brother being actually at a federal prison serving 30 to life, but her brother had made an incredibly stupid bad choice, and was guilty of that crime and... I was following orders from the Duchess...

She paid all my drinks in the next couple of meetings and we put it behind us very quickly.

At the moment her antics left us a bit retracted for a while, but Dora and Fay displayed their unusual (but always successful) crisis-stopper mode and soon I was told to resume.

‘...and the guy had went to one of those places and had made comments about the Duchess’ agent’s breasts and what she should be doing with them for/with him..., and the tall guy (who wasn’t Tombstone!) was teaching him manners. That’s when one of the other SWAT-like dudes felt, more than heard, something weird coming from the room where the men were located and got himself in position. The men inside that large room were just pretending that they were still bound and gagged, apparently two or three of them had managed to untie himself and they then untied all the others, minus the guy that revealed himself as a ‘guard’ when he tried to aim the gun he had taped against his back to the other men still bound and gagged... and was quickly seized and beaten like he had fell in a meat grinder... there were like thirty to thirty-five men inside that room... Anyway the men were just pretending that they were still captive and one of them had actually managed to pick the lock of the door of that room, and they tried to barge at the SWAT-like dudes!’

‘And they were stopped by an air horn?’ asked Irma – that had actually triggered a small discussion among the others about that part of what they knew of the story.

‘Yes, the cameras inside that room had, apparently, been deactivated by those raiders. Well actually they reached the security control room of the building and put a guy there, the cameras were still working but none of the previously captive dudes could knew that. But the Duchess’ hackers had fooled that dude with some looping footage and had allowed them to free themselves, that dude was actually the very last raider to be captured. And when they barged at the SWAT like dudes one of them simply grabbed an air horn and how that stuff was loud! It disoriented the ex-captive’s charge, got the SWAT dudes time to grab their guns and aim them the chargers and they were soon locked back inside that room, taped hand and feet and with their former captors more overly restrained alongside them. When I looked back at the women (I had rushed, gun in hand, at the door of the room when I heard the guys charging at us) the nurse/doctor was spraying each one of them, save for the topless trio, with something that knocked them out cold almost immediately. With the help of the ‘SWAT’ dames she undid all of the captives’ bonds and we left them lined up side by side on the floor. The raider was taken away by two of the ‘SWAT’ guys, still struggling and bucking wildly in her tape cocoon prison. The others awoke twenty minutes later a bit dizzy, but soon found and freed the men and they all called the cops.’

‘And what about the honey-trapper, the Duchess’ agent and Terry?’

‘I was told to tie a very long rope around their waist and put them in a line, then I freed their legs and gave them the orders that were in a sheet of paper that the... nurse (let’s call her that) gave me. It was awkward for them to move blindfolded and bound, and topless, as they were. But they managed to do it without bonking and conking too much on each other. We went (under the escort of the agent’s fiancé and one of the ‘SWAT’ dames) down to the back of the building. There I found the raider’s lookout standing by a nonchalant blue van and under the guard of a masked lady... who was wearing her clothes!’

‘She was bound in the buff?’

‘Yes. It took me great pleasure to put her in a ultra-tight hogtie while the ‘SWAT’ lady placed Terry and the others in more bearable versions of that position... and I wasn’t halfway finished when she cinched the last knot on the last of them!! I was told to put a blue and yellow overall like the ‘SWAT’ dame and drive them to... there.’

None of them asked me or Mary where was located the Duchess’ first HQ in America.

‘But no one heard them, saw them or the likes?’ – asked Irma.

‘The van was from the Duchess first legit enterprise’s fleet, but was a special one that she had ‘borrowed’ from Chinese dudes that used it to ‘supply’ their brothels in CA. Namely it was soundproof. It had been also modified and was now bulletproof as well. Drank gas like nothing else could and was very heavy, very heavy indeed!, but perfectly maneuverable. There was a good conditioning system so none of them sweated much while I rode to LA, and the compartment cargo and the driver and passenger seats were totally separated by another soundproof wall so if I was stopped while on the road... I could at much glance at them from time to time through a peephole, or the camera feed in the dashboard... they struggled and squirmed and all that all the way to... where I arrived around 10 PM.’

Yes I confess, it almost slipped!

‘By the time I stopped the van a black guy I had never seen handed me, and ‘Kim’ (let’s call the ‘SWAT’ dame that), our next orders. So I pretended that I knew him and that I had to explain him why I had drove them there as I opened the side door to remove all four of them of the van, and I ‘had’ to fight his resistance to the idea of having so many unwanted captives all at once... we made quite a ruckus for all three real captives to hear, specially Terry. She ended up believing that she was kept somewhere inside a one story building with a large garage next to it somewhere in Orange County, probably Anaheim. But the honey-trapper was our main target. Why? I don’t know. But I was the voice and the face of the ‘small band’ of kidnappers that got in touch with the married dude she was supposed to charm into blackmail and guess what...?’

None of them made any suggestion.

‘She had actually fallen in love with the guy! And he had with her and she had confessed who she actually was to him. They had a fight but, eventually, he forgave her and asked her to help him to trap the other member of the board...’

‘But what of the guy’s wife?’ – asked Gina after the smile on face was substituted by an expression of doubt... she hadn’t yet recovered from an ugly betrayal of her ex-husband...

‘Whatever that had made them marry each other was long gone, and she had a lover of her own anyway. It was one of the few amicable divorces I ever heard of... But that happened later. Now imagine my surprise when I found out that the Duchess already knew about that turn of events! And that I had been told to grab her that very day because it was the day when he was going to propose to her! He had bought a nice big ring, had reservations on a fancy restaurant and who went there and had dinner with him?’

‘No...! That’s too much..., even for her!!!’

But Sondra’s stupefaction only increased when Mary nodded when she turned to her and mouthed the question ‘Really?’, and the others weren’t far behind.

‘The Duchess’ agent who was now pretending that she was a captive and was locked with the reformed honey-trapper? Her actual guardian/watcher who had orders to prevent any actual attempt of escape from the honey-trapper’s part, even if she had to personally bind and gag the babe! But it was not necessary, although it was a shock for the honey-trapper when she found out who her newfound friend actually was at the end of the whole deal... I heard that they met like six years ago, a peaceful meeting that didn’t last much.’

‘They have a night for each other every third Thursday of the month!’ – added Mary.

‘Really?’ – I asked.

‘Yeah, the ex-honey-trapper’s real name is Cheyenne, and her ex-watcher is Monica, and Monica’s husband is now one of Cheyenne’s husband bodyguards so they’re very close. But... Cheyenne’s husband... Erik...’ – Mary had been fidgeting with her smartphone, then she found it and showed to all of us; the pictures of Monica’s wedding, with her and Cheyenne as two of the five bridesmaid – ‘...is always somewhere else, and dragging Ash... funny I can’t recall Monica’s husband name, I always called him Ash!... and dragging Ash with him. So every third Thursday they go to a restaurant and a club and go back home early to pay the nanny their fee... Three kids, each. And on the rest of the month they are always helping each other... very good friends indeed!’

‘But how...? Why?’ – see Irma flabbergasted was something very rare...

‘Everybody was interested in that board meeting apparently, including those raiders who wanted to make their raid as messy and traumatizing as possible for whatever reason they had. Cheyenne’s former employer had alerted the other member of the board about the real romance, he wiretapped Cheyenne’s phone!, and precautions had been set in motion... Basically, had the Duchess hadn’t have me driving Cheyenne to LA that night, she would be arriving to somewhere far less agreeable to be, and with much less pleasant company to guard her... the basement of an associate of the board dude near Newport, on the hills... by noon on Monday. The guy had planned to let the couple have an idyllic weekend together just to crash it all with her kidnapping on Monday! By two or three of those raiders!’

‘Diabolical... but the guy... Erik... and the Duchess...’

‘Well, Irma, Erik wasn’t a paladin of the Right and Good to start with. Whatever business he had with the Duchess at the time it only increased with time... So imagine his surprise when his minor ‘business associate’ shows up ‘replacing’ Cheyenne and explains to him everything and how he had messed up, how Cheyenne’s life is (still) at stake and how he can face up to a century behind bars if he doesn’t plays along with her plans? For his sake, and Cheyenne’s, he played the ‘honest’ member of a board of a large export company filled with guys with ties with organized crime that had his fiancée kidnapped in order to persuade him to obey their (the organized crime’s) orders... to the FBI. Whatever was the way that she managed to concoct the whole business... Hey! Everybody knows how much she loves to cook! So sue me if you didn’t liked the analogy!... Anyway, she came up with a good plan that worked marvelously... I even managed to avoid jail time even with my face showing up in the six or seven videos he received from the ‘kidnappers’!!!’

None of them could came up with a reasonable idea that could explain, after they stopped with their ‘You are lying!’ attitude towards me that is.

‘Guys, you already know that I was ordered to stop being a criminal, every single one of you (and LeeAnn who couldn’t come here tonight) knows that from the very first time we gathered to remember the ‘good ole days’, right?’

They all nodded or mouthed ‘right’ or ‘yes’.

‘And guess who gave me that order?’

‘The Duchess?’

‘Exactly. I had started working for her organization when PT Pike was her frontwoman in the West Coast, even long before ‘Demoted’ Deborah came in and rose that quickly to become her right arm, but by that time she was an well known face to all working for her. Yet imagine my surprise when I am called to Pike’s office and there she is, in the flesh! We talked a few amenities before she looks at me and asks: ‘Is that true that you want to go out? To leave this organization?’... I had wishes to start something with any ‘clean’ money I could get in my hands and had talked about it with some guys... And about a couple of weeks later I had this add posted in a B&D website...’

I would not give them (too many) details about how I became known in the San Francisco B&D no matter how they begged! But after a few slips from my part...

‘...So, for six nights straight, the script was the same. A man showed up at the lobby of that hotel around midnight and call me. I would follow him into that limo, he would drove me to a ‘place I could not see from the outside because I was blindfolded when I entered it’, there I would be led by the hand into this room made to look as if it was just another bare studio, my blindfold was then removed and I found myself looking at a pretty topless girl already well gagged and crying the Mississippi (but I could see the harmless eye drops that caused it over the table next to the camera), my job was then to put on a hood and tie her up and then pretend, to this ‘unknown masked cameraman’ (my then lover) that I was a mean kidnapper shooting various ‘ransom demands’ videos for the ‘safe return’ of the gal. I was told to change her ties every two or three videos, and a couple of times I was even told to remove the ‘captive’’s panties... Twenty different videos that covered all possible angles were shot, from a quick a clean kidnapping to one where the ‘husband’/family or the likes of my ‘captive’ had called the cops (those were ugly!), then I would bid my still bound gagged former captive (I was NOT supposed to undo the tie-up) and go back to the limo...’

‘And that’s what happened?’ – asked Irma.

‘Yes, although I did not knew who was the guy that showed up every night at the lobby, I knew the driver and I had no trouble in being actually blindfolded by that unknown guy. All my five ‘captives’ were amateur submissive gals that had answered another add asking ‘young and pretty submissive dolls to fulfill an elaborate kidnap fantasy’ for 2K. The add had been posted by a somebody who had already done the whole gig twice, and thus was well known among the community, and if the gal asked around she would hear only good things about him/her. And who wouldn’t want two thousand dollars, especially if there wasn’t any sex (and thus no prostitution charge) involved? How they were selected I don’t know but, it all had started on a Sunday night... and I went to lunch at this place at a mall Thursday and who is the waitress that serves me? The Tuesday ‘kidnapped’ gal!’

‘Wait a minute! You were told to go there Thursday, right?’

‘So when the FBI questioned me they would end up watching the footage of me buying some clothes at the mall, among other things, and having quite the surprise when I decide to lunch. They interviewed the waitress afterwards, and somehow managed to get in touch with the Monday and Thursday babes as well... When I ‘arrived’/returned there Cheyenne had already been told that I was a ‘dumb freak bitch’ that they were going to use to make the ransom videos, all at once, and that if she didn’t wanted to have me added to the roll call of bound and gagged captive chicks...’

‘Hold on a second! They made her play along so YOU...’ – Mary did not knew that part of the story? But then she started to grin and was followed by the rest of us...

‘She didn’t need the eye drops to cry, of course, but just for show the cameraman used something totally innocuous on her as I ‘got ready’ for that night’s activities. At some point I noticed that she was shivering too much... but the cameraman managed to ‘convince’ me that, in truth, she wasn’t submissive at all... but needed the cash. Even in the ‘ugly’ videos I went a bit soft with her (and got ‘admonished’ by the cameraman for that...), I told her that she didn’t had a future in the bondage business and bid her goodbye... and in the next morning I went straight to the FBI!’ – Only Irma and Dora got the right reason behind this act of mine – ‘Guys... guys! A triple kidnapping following the raid on such a prestigious and powerful company’s office? Of course it was in all the papers and TV channels! You must remember at least hearing somebody talking about it at the time!’ – And they told me about how they had followed the whole case – ‘So when I, ex-con trying to start to make a living with my proficiency in knots, sees on TV the face of the girl whose life and looks I spent nearly one hour ‘threatening’ in front of a camera the night before... what do I do? Grab all my stuff and rush to the bus station! Buy a ticket to the next bus heading to a city on the Atlantic Coast leaving the station! And before I go aboard... in front of the cameras (I had to rehearse it!)... I change my mind and turn myself in...’

‘But I never heard of you in any account of the story...’ – said/asked Gina.

‘That’s because by the time the link to the first ransom demand arrived in Erik’s private e-mail account I was in my sixth or seventh retelling to the ‘bad fed’ while the ‘good fed’ was out of the room. In fact, my ‘selfish act’’s only purpose was to help the FBI to unwove part of the shady ties of that company with three different groups of smugglers! Per the Duchess’ plans they would be either out of her way or forced to lay down for a while, and she did profited BIG from those plans! Apparently, I don’t know all the details, the web trail of the mysterious guy that had hired me (through an e-mail account that I had been told to create, for that purpose, seven months earlier) led to one of the groups... but it was a big investigation, that lasted for over two years, that was starting at the time and they did not wanted to let anyone know about my involvement... So they kept an eye on me for like three years, ‘just in case’ you know, and while they were at it...’

‘You were the ‘Hooded Nasty Gal’...’ – my stare wasn’t effective enough to make them not start another round of giggles and smirks... Mary would pay for that remark!

She actually didn’t, but that’s another story...

I told them about the fruitless trap that the FBI staged (with me as the bait) that night at that hotel, I had been ‘hired’ to make eight videos with eight different models after all, and how a gorgeous submissive brunette babe was found, just a bit annoyed that her marvelous experience was lasting too long and starting to feel some cramps from her tight position (a hogtie if I am not mistaken), hours later and inside the stolen limousine parked in a suburban street in San Diego. She was supposed to be that night’s ‘kidnapped babe’. Three months later they found out who was supposed to be the last girl, but she just said that she went to the place the e-mail told her to do and nothing had happened.

But the videos I had shot with Cheyenne kept coming up until she was found, bound back-to-back with Terry, in that (in)famous raid in an abandoned barn in Kings County that fuelled even more Terry’s resolve to become what she is now...

‘...and by the time I was on the stand giving my account of the whole business I was but a minor witness that the defense lawyer did his best to tarnish, and by the looks of the jurors he did a good job. He came up with my past convictions, my current job and everything else... but the Federal prosecutor had tons of evidences that I was telling the truth. Among themselves, the defendants were accusing each other of having come up with the plan that involved me... or at least accusing whoever had come with such a ‘stupid stunt’ to have left a paper trail that led to them... Me? I was but a strong gal that tied up and gagged chicks for a living, kinky yet harmless... so NONE OF THEM paid any attention to me!’

It wasn’t true, I knew that they (and the FBI) had done what they believed had been a complete investigation about me. But I didn’t tell them that. I didn’t knew the details about those investigations, so what was the point?

‘One thing though... I know that they did not saw you, neither Cheyenne nor Terry... but they did hear you... and did not recognize your voice afterwards?’ – asked Gina.

Fay raised her hand and begged me to let her answer that one.

‘I know that one! One night Carl returned from a poker game with ‘the guys’ and showed me what he had gotten with the 250 cash as profit... it looked like your ordinary chewing gum, strawberry flavor, but I knew that he was up to something when he told me to pick one and chew. I did, and when I complained that ‘it was just strawberry gum’ I got shocked with the voice that came out of my mouth! It wasn’t my voice! It was almost a male voice so low pitched it was! No..., no! It’s true dammit!’

The Duchess’ access to unusual chemicals was well known by everybody, but a gum that damps the tone of a voice? It was true, but Gina took longer than enough to take it!

‘And what about the Chinese lookout?’ – asked Irma.

‘Never heard of what happened to her... honestly, I did not care the least! And I still don’t! Most likely she wasn’t killed, the Duchess keeps her death toll at minimum levels... But as of Monica and... Ash? Well, she was supposed to be another gal to honey-trap that Erik dude, hired by...?, that was captured along with Cheyenne because whoever took Cheyenne wanted to know who had put her (Monica that is) there, probably to eliminate the competition or the likes, so Monica did ‘suffer’ a ‘harsh questioning’ (although she wasn’t even slapped) by me in front of Cheyenne, and after I was sure that she did not knew who had hired her to do that job, because whoever it was had used phony emails accounts whose emails (filled with virus and/or Trojan horses) destroyed Monica’s account while she stayed as a captive with Cheyenne, I just decided that the ‘two bimbos are to be kept together all the time!’ – I tried to recreate my altered tone of voice, but without the ‘chewing gum’ the result was more funny than anything else... – ‘A few days later Cheyenne almost managed to escape, so Monica really had to hold her while she screamed for help... and with her cover blown we used the plan B, ‘free’ Monica, have her be interrogated by the FBI (to whom she would tell everything she would have anyway) and make her disappear before it was time to free Cheyenne and Terry as well... I don’t know the details, I honestly don’t, but somehow the Duchess, in person, managed to convince her to not tell the truth about Monica. And before she gave any statement to the Feds, in that private clinic she was rushed into as soon as she was found, she had a long conversation with Erik in which she told him that what she had been told that was partially the truth and that she would demand the whole of it from his lips sooner than he could think of... which happened in their honeymoon… in Bali if I am not mistaken.’

‘You don’t know what the Duchess told her?’ – asked Irma, and we all looked at Mary.

‘All I know was that she showed her what kind of business partners Erik had at the board and who she was… I stand corrected, who she could be as Erik’s main business partner. She must have said something to her before, during and after that exhibition... whatever that exhibition was... but of what it was about I don’t know the slightest...’

We returned to more mundane talk after I finished, Mary still tried to have Dora and/or Chastity tell us a more accurate version of the facts of her story (in Dora’s case) or how exactly underwent Chastity and Joan Small’s reunion... and we all knew that in a couple of weeks the subject of the night would be ‘Revenge!’ (as it ended up being)....

Things wrapped up pretty fast after that, we paid our bills and kissed and said goodbyes to each and all of us and I was back to my condo less than one hour later. Thirty minutes later I was over my bed, checking the albums were most of the mementos, and behind-the-scenes pics, I had about my days as the ‘Hooded Nasty Gal’ were kept when the bell rang.

And when I went to the hallway to go to the front door and saw them...

It was Irma and Fay... they had the key to my condo... giggling and demanding to see those aforementioned pictures! They knew about their existence for quite a while, over seven years actually, but I always had said no to all their attempts to get their eyes on them, and always kept the albums hid somewhere... Now (then) Allana (Irma) was betting twenty bucks with Gwen (Fay) that it was most likely that they were sprawled over my bed, and by the looks in their eyes it was obvious that if I tried to dash at them they would stop me...

Oh well, I told them to grab the albums and bring them to the kitchen while I made some coffee for us three. Cousins can be a bore sometimes...

The End

A more complete version of Dora’s tale will appear in ‘Watching a Betrayal’s Payback’s Rerun with Some Friends’

Another round of ‘old stories’ from those gals, including Charity’s depiction of her second meeting with Joan, will appear in ‘Is Revenge that Necessary?’

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