It was a big day for Jacqueline Kilmour. After the affair of the Mistaken Identity the law hadn't been able to pin Dr. Mia Lampton's kidnapping on our old friend, the professional hitwoman. They had got her on various misdemeanors, however, and the judge had put her in the big house for six months. No one inside had bothered her but she was still glad that her release date had arrived. They gave her her street clothes and a bag of belongings. She changed in the little grey room and then into the air, and out the gates. Free. She stood still, savouring the moment.
Across the street from the jail, sitting in a squad car, Lt. Sara Sugg and officer Winsome Ryan watched Kilmour. The released convict was a powerful woman, about six foot two, with big shoulders and a deep chest. Her hair had been cut short inside. She began walking. She looked supple and athletic.
"I don't think that I'd take her on, one on one", Lt Sara Sugg said thoughtfully.
"No", agreed Winsome.
"She's a killer, you know", Sugg added.
The crooked police lieutenant was edgy about this. However she had started taking payoffs from The Man, Mr Mundine and now he wanted Kilmour turned loose on the Welcomes. Mundine had so much on her that Sugg had to deliver. She had picked Winsome Ryan to come with her because she had been gradually turning and compromising the pretty young recruit for the last few months. Today Ryan could hand over some cash, and that was it, she too would be on the team.
She waited a few more moments, then started the squad car and drove up beside the smooth striding Kilmour. Sugg wound down the window.
"OK Kilmour, get in", she said.
Jacqueline Kilmour didn't even blink. She opened the door and slipped inside. On the way into town Sara Sugg gave Kilmour a way to avoid police attention. She told the releasee about The Scene nightclub. Subtly she let Kilmour know that bygones could be bygones if Kilmour paid a little professional attention to the Welcomes' operations and then got out of town. She gave Kilmour to understand that her felony records would somehow erase themselves from the police computers if The Scene closed suddenly and unexpectedly.
"That goes for whatever reason it gets closed", she said. "And there won't be much investigation into the closure."
They had reached the docks. Sara stopped the car. "Off you go", she said. Kilmour got out.
"I need money", she said.
Officer Winsome Ryan's heart fluttered, but she took the envelope from Lt. Sugg and handed it to the killer. She knew that she had crossed the line, that she was no longer an honest cop. She felt a little like crying. Silently Jacqueline Kilmour headed off towards the wharves.
meanwhile, Tarra comes to ...
Tarra's head ached. She tried to move her hand to hold her aching temple. Nothing doing. Her whole body was stiff. As she came fully to consciousness she realised that she was stringently bound in a fierce hogtie that had her ankles almost touching her wrists. Her back was painfully arched. She tried to lift her head but she was tied down to the floor by her neck. With her face sideways on the carpet she could see the high heeled, bound feet of that girl she had come to rescue. At least she herself had not been undressed. Her suit skirt was all rucked up though, crumpled high under her hips and thighs and she knew that under the tied arch of her calves her panty clad bottom was no doubt on display. As her head cleared she began to test her bonds, systematically tugging and twisting. She found that the cord round her neck could be slackened if she writhed closer to the tie off point. Slowly she hitched on breasts and belly towards it to gain some movement for her upper body.
Kelly Martin watched Tarra struggle on the floor. The pretty coed's bottom had almost stopped stinging. Only a dull warmth remained in each welt. Her arms were aching and her thighs were protesting at the strain of being tied in the squat in which she had been left. She could not turn her face down, but with some eye strain she could watch Tarra bellying along the floor.
When Tarra reached the hook to which her necktie had been snubbed she was thrilled to find that it was not a complete closed circle, but an open hook. She pushed at the cord with her mouth but the duct tape and scarf gag stopped her getting any purchase. She considered for a moment, then put her duct tape covered mouth on top of the steel hook and began to press strongly down. The fear of the hook bursting the roof of her mouth was unsettling but she kept at it and finally the tape began to loosen. By the time she had got the tape split, then burst and the scarf spat, out her chest was heaving with exertion.
Once her lips were free she used her strong white teeth to get the neck cord off the hook. She lay panting for a few minutes, then began her breast and belly lift and push, lift and push towards Kelly.
The hogtie had left Tarra's fingers and thumbs free. Although her wrists were tightly bound she was able to locate the ties holding Kelly's thighs, ankles and arm ropes to the floor and unhook them. With Kelly able to move Tarra got her fingers to the knots at the college girl's wrists. It seemed to take forever, although it was probably only half an hour or so until Kelly's wrists were free.
The girl untied Tarra's wrists in turn and soon after that they were both standing and flexing, trying to get the circulation back into their limbs. The leather cord holding Kelly's gag into her mouth had shrunk tight and Tarra used her nail file to cut it free.
The well spanked Physiotherapy student found her skirt and top and began to dress herself. She left her pantyhose off and wherever the skirt brushed against her bottom and thighs the silky caress of the material seemed to sooth her stinging.
Tarra smoothed her own skirt down. She hunted around the room and could not find her gun. Suddenly there was a sound at the door. Kelly froze in the middle of the room, terrified, but Tarra took a grip of the hard wooden chair that Felicty Welcome had been sitting in.
The door handle turned.
The door opened.
Anouk stepped into the room. She saw Kelly, stepping into her skirt. The Indian's eyes widened. She bent at the waist, settling into a fighting stance but as she turned and saw Tarra the spunky lawyer raised the chair high over her head and then brought it slamming down into the Indian. It took Anouk across the head, neck and shoulders. As she staggered Tarra clenched both fists together and hit her a blow like a battle axe at the base of the skull. Anouk grunted and fell to the floor.
Tarra jumped onto her fallen body and twisted both her arms up her back, wrists to elbows, forearms together. Anouk struggled feebly, almost knocked out.
"Quick, rope", hissed Tarra at Kelly. Kelly brought a loop of white cord.
"Wrists to arms", Tarra said.
Kelly tied a tight knot round Anouk's right wrist then looped the cord around her left forearm just below her elbow. She did the same to the right wrist and left forearm. Tarra felt a whole lot happier with the powerful Indian at least partially tied. She grabbed another cord and finished her arms off, welding her wrists immovably to her arms and then tying tight loops all along the now inseparable forearms for their whole length.
The Indian was barely stirring. Tarra got off her back and briskly tied her ankles tightly together. She bent them back, even more savagely than her own had been and tied them to Anouk's arms. The woman's knees and thighs spread wide under the strain. She began to grunt and stir.
Kelly handed Tarra a scarf without a word. Tarra pulled Anouk's head up off the floor by her braided pigtail and forced the scarf into her still uncomprehending mouth. With a second scarf she completed a tight, firm cleave gag.
"On the desk", Tarra said to Kelly.
They picked Anouk up by her knees and shoulders and put her on the big heavy desk on one side of the room. Tarra rolled Anouk over onto her back so that she was lying on her hogtied arms and legs. Her own body weight made her thighs sprawl apart. By this time Anouk was conscious. She was glaring with fury at Tarra. Tarra laughed in her face. Then she tied her down to the desk by her upper arms, thighs and knees, and throat. Anouk was furious. She was pinned helplessly to the table like a fly in a spider's web.
Tarra found another scarf. She was starting to warm up to this. Folding it carefully she blindfolded Anouk. Then, because it amused her, she undid the Indian's jeans and unzipped them. She felt her captive stiffen. Pleased, Tarra tugged and worked the woman's jeans and panties down over her hips until they were wedged around her spread thighs. Then Tarra pulled the woman's sweater up over her breasts and tore her bra off. She took one more rope, knotted it around Anouk's belly and tied it, too, tightly to the desk.
Leaving Anouk like an offering on the desk, with her dark pubis and large breasts exposed in the pool of light, Tarra and the still fearful Kelly slipped out into the hall and closed the door.
meanwhile, at the docks ...
Jacqueline Kilmour had found her black leather catsuit in the storage locker, retrieved it and put it on. The iron pumping she had done in the prison gym made the suit feel tight around her shoulders and chest.
She went to pier 5, to get a water taxi across to the nightclub. She had decided to get this pissant job dispatched and get on with her life.
It was a fine windless day. The sun sparkled on the harbour. She found the water taxis and jumped onto the first one.
Captain Natalie Good was feeling pleased with life. She was sitting in her big powerful diesel cruiser with not a care in the world. The boat, the "Susan II" was big enough for offshore charters, plus manouverable enough for bread and butter water taxi work. It was paid off.
Natalie ran a tight ship. She kept her crew in line.
At the moment the crew was just Brendan, the young boat bum who cast on and off for her occasionally. He was washing down the foredeck. Natalie liked to keep him busy, doing something useful. Occasionally she and Brendan did something a little more enjoyable than useful, down in the cabin under the wheel house, but that was after hours, not on work time. Brendan seemed to like her big lush thirty year old curves and she liked to feel his skinny hard body against hers.
Natalie's pleasant musings were interrupted by a light thump. The boat pitched a little. Natalie looked around. A broad in a leather catsuit had jumped aboard. Natalie liked a polite approach from the wharf from her customers. This bitch was big, nearly as big as Natalie herself, and she looked mean.
"Hey, are you for hire or what? Take me to the downtown side", her catsuited passenger barked.
Natalie was annoyed. "Forty bucks, lady", she barked in her own tough voice.
"Ok", Jacqueline Kilmour answered.
Natalie kept her temper. A fare was a fare after all. She called out to Brendan and he cast off.
The big diesel motor fired and they headed out into the harbour.
Brendan was cute. He was young and lean and fit looking. The cruiser hadn't gone far before Jacqueline just had to give his arse a squeeze. He jumped nearly a mile in the air as the big woman slipped her caressing hand over his buttocks and caressed his balls. Jacqueline had been on the inside for a long time and she felt she deserved a feel of a nice young guy first chance she got.
Unfortunately Brendan took offence.
"Well stuff you too", Jacqueline answered. She pushed him away.
Captain Natalie Good saw the shove; saw Brendan almost hit the side rail. Natalie hadn't liked this passenger from the moment she had jumped on board.
"Brendan, take the wheel", she called. "Take us back to base, Brendan, I'm going to turn this bitch in to the water police" she announced.
Natalie was a big strong woman, used to boat work. She was bigger than her passenger and confident that she could take her if it came to that. She stepped up to Jacqueline Kilmour. Brendan had felt the steel in Jacqueline's arms and watched somewhat doubtfully. He knew that Captain Natalie could arm wrestle him or any crew man three out of five but he wasn't sure what was going to happen.
"You endangered my crewman", Natalie snapped at Kilmour. "I'm going to deal with you." Her strong arms were on her hips. Her peaked skipper's cap was tilted back on her head. She was wearing blue jeans, a striped tee shirt and leather boat shoes.
Jacqueline rose smoothly to her feet. Captain Good glared at her. The Captain was one tough boat woman, but she wasn't a fighting woman like Jacqueline.
The Captain thought they were still squaring up to one another, she expected a little huffing and puffing before a bit of push and shove. She was used to a roughhouse, had dealt with a few women in her time in tough catfights. But while she was still waiting for a few more words to be traded Jacqueline Kilmour hit her with a lightning fast closed fist punch right on the bridge of the nose.
Then before Captain Natalie Good even got her hands off her hips and up into fists, Jacqueline Kilmour stepped right into her and landed a set of fast and powerful punches to her solar plexus and belly. Jacqueline's fists sank deep into the Captain's mid section, knocking the wind and the fight out of the big woman. With barely a pause the hitwoman glided back, measured her swaying, stunned and winded opponent and kicked her in the jaw.
Brendan was amazed at the speed of Captain Natalie's downfall. He didn't know it but he was steering round and round in a circle.
Natalie Good was out cold, flat on her back, at Jacqueline's feet.
Jacqueline took out the gun she had retrieved from her storage locker along with her leather suit. She showed the big automatic to Brendan, then shoved it into her belt.
"Just keep driving in circles, son", she ordered.
She looked at Captain Natalie, spreadeagled, a trophy. She looked at the bow end of the cruiser. There was a stainless steel stanchion railing there. Ropes everywhere. Jacqueline smiled.
She bent lithely over the defeated Captain. From the corner of her eye she could see that Brendan was staying where she wanted him, well out of it.
She sat the unconscious Natalie up and stripped the striped tee shirt off her, then undid her brassiere and removed it. The Captain had large firm breasts that bounced and jounced free.
Jacqueline unceremoniously dropped Natalie back to the deck. Then she pulled off the woman's boat shoes, undid her blue jeans and pulled them off. Next her black cotton panties.
Now she lay completely naked. Jacqueline rolled Natalie onto her front. Because she liked leather she unthreaded the laces from the boat shoes. She wet the leather laces and then tied Natalie's wrists. She used the very minimum of binding, so the big strong woman would know how easy she was to hold captive. Two turns around the strong wrists and a handcuffing loop inside around those coils. The captain's hands were back to back to open her shoulders out and the knots went inside her wrists. She could tug at that all she liked and never break free from the tough leather strip.
The big woman was beginning to stir. Jacqueline didn't want to hear from her, so she stuffed Natalie's own black undies into her mouth and tied a cord around her face to hold them in place.
As Captain Natalie woke she found herself being manhandled to the front of her boat. Her jaw felt like it was broken. Her belly felt bruised. Her nose was hurting. She was still semi unaware of what was happening. Jacqueline maneuvered her past the steel railing onto the prow of the boat. With the second leather strap she tied Captain Natalie Good tightly by her throat to the bow rail of her own cruiser. Then she took cords and lashed the hapless defeated woman's ankles wide apart to the base of the railing on either side. She tied Natalies upper arms to the rail; and that was it. The defeated Captain was a nude trophy, displayed spread, kneeling, a bound captive on the bow of the boat.
Jacqueline looked at the sweet picture for a moment. Then she took the skipper's cap and put it square on Natalie's head.
The Captain was now squirming in her bonds. The leather would tighten as it dried. Jacqueline tied a final cord from her wrists to a loop around her belly. The Captain looked good, kneeling like a supplicant. Her hair had fallen free. It was surprising long and soft, and a warm chestnut color. Her big full firm breasts swayed with the boat's movement. Her round buttocks were spread by her widely tied ankles. The cord tieing her throat to the rail kept her up in a nicely displayed posture.
Brendan was strangely excited by Natalie's predicament. She had been cock of the walk and now this woman in the black leather jump suit had beaten her, stripped her and tied her helplessly. There was a new champion on board.
Jacqueline went up to the wheelhouse. All this time she had never let Brendan out of her sight for long. Now she made him steer for the downtown side again.
"MMMPPHH", Natalie Good was awake and calling for help. Nothing intelligible would come out past her panties, wadded up in her mouth. She was helpless and humiliated at the idea of coming into harbour displayed as a captive, beaten by a woman in a fair fight. She struggled and pulled at her bonds, but there was no give anywhere.
Worst of all were the unmistakable noises of sexual congress that began to come to her ears. That devil of a woman was having Brendan, right in her, Captain Natalie Good's, wheelhouse. As the aching pain of her fist fight beating began to fade, her courage began to return. Despite her humiliating bondage she kept her head up. "The first punch", she thought, "next time I won't let her get in the first punch like that".
To Be Continued…