As Constance strolled down the street, her pretty silk dress molding her figure and her beautiful legs flashing exquisitely above high heels, she thought, “It’s fun exciting boys the way I do, even though Josie says I shouldn’t wear such sexy clothes. Just look at the way they’re staring at me. Who knows, some day I’ll see one I like and then I’ll know I at least have his attention.”
Keeping a discreet distance between them, ]osie followed the beautiful blonde.
“That fool kid is going to get in trouble despite the lessons I’ve given her in karate, judo and savate,” she thought. “Especially in this neighborhood with its many tough gangs. These boys are easily inflamed and they’ll stop at nothing to get whatever they want. To them a woman is easy prey.”
Constance turned around suddenly and saw Josie following her. “You don’t need to go sneaking along after me, Josie,” she said. “If I’m pretty enough to attract some of the young men around here, I should be persuasive enough to make them behave.”
Chagrined at being caught following her prot6ge, Josie stopped in a drug store for a new lipstick and let Constance go on alone.
As she shopped the counter for cosmetics she noticed three wild-looking young men in what was evidently a uniform of paratroopers boots and sports shirts with the tails worn on the outside.
“Come on, guys, let’s go out and get us a woman. I saw a blonde dish go by just a minute or so ago,” the tallest of the boys said. “Let’s take her to our clubhouse, soften her up and have a party.”
“Good idea, Ricky,” the other two said.
They went outside, piled into a rattletrap car, and went noisily down the street.
Josie turned to the pharmacist. “Surely those boys can’t be serious,” she said.
“Those three can, ma’am,” he said.
“That’s the toughest bunch we have around here. They call themselves the Invincibles and as far as I can see they are. They’ve whipped gangs of five, six boys all bigger than they are.”
“But to simply seize a woman on the street?” Josie asked incredulously.
“Yep,” the druggist replied. “Damned dirty shame.”
Josie ran out but the car was nowhere in sight. She retraced her steps to where she last saw Constance and continued in the direction in which Constance had been walking.
She was nowhere to be seen! Cursing herself for having permitted the younger girl to go into this neighborhood dressed as alluringly as Constance was and then for having abandoned the gift, Josie ran faster and faster. How she hoped she’d not be too late!
Constance enjoyed the feel of the cool breeze that molded the light, bright silk of her dress against her impressively shapely body. She enjoyed the flutter of her skirts around her legs, stroking her nylons, showing the lovely petticoat she wore beneath. Dusk was a wonderful time of day.
Then she heard the clanking and rattling of an old car coming along behind her and the whistling sounds of some boys.
Tilting her nose up in the air, she continued walking. “Hey, you, Blondie,” a hoarse, deep voice called. “You we gotta have.”
Constance quickened her step, but the car squealed to a stop a little in front of her.
Two of the boys tumbled out of the car and ran toward her. She tried to run away, but they were too fast for her. The largest of them caught her, tossed her over his shoulder like a bag of grain, and, despite her screams and kicking and pounding, threw her into the back seat of the car.
Then the two who had captured her sat on her and the car drove off into an alleyway.
The three dragged the struggling girl into a basement apartment that was furnished with battered cots and furniture and, while Constance struggled with two of them, the third literally ripped her dress off of her!
Josie had taught her how to protect herself against an assailant, but not against three, especially when one held her by each wrist as tightly and expertly as these did. How she wished Josie were here!
“Josie!” she screamed. “Josie! Help me!”
“Think we should gag her, Ricky?” one of the boys asked.
“No, let her yell. They’re all afraid of us around here, Gar,” Ricky said.
“Besides, I kind of like to hear women yell. Gives me kicks.”
While two of the boys held Constance by the wrists, the third tied stout ropes around her wrists and ran them through eye bolts in opposite corners of the room where they were secured. Now Constance, stripped of her dress, clad only in her silken lingerie, was forced to stand with her arms up high, her heels unable to reach the ground, while the boys let their rough hands feel her legs and travel over her helpless body.
“Josie!” Constance screamed. “For heavens’ sake, come rescue me!”
“Let’s make her scream even louder if that’s what you want,” Gar said to Ricky. “I can use this paddle here and you can use your belt.”
“Fine” Ricky agreed. “You, Punk,” said to the third boy, “go on down to the clubhouse and tell them that we’ll not be having a meeting tonight.”
“Don’t I get in on the fun of this one?” the pimply-faced youngster whined.
“Maybe you can have her tomorrow after Gar and I are done with her,” Ricky said.
“Aw, the hell with that. By then she’ll be all bruised and bloody and ugly-looking. I saw what the last one looked like.”
Picky was holding his belt in his hand. Instantly his hand lashed out, striking the young man with the belt so that it hit him on both eyes and across the nose before he knew the blow was coming.
He dropped to the floor in pain, clawing at his sore eyes, trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose.
“That’s teaching ’em, Picky,” Gar said.
“Maybe now Punk’ll know when we say something we mean business.” To demonstrate his point he waited until the half-blinded boy was struggling to his feet and he knocked him over again, face forward, with a savage blow of his paddle.
Punk struggled to the door and ran outside.
He piled into the car and started driving down the street, his face a mess of tears and blood. A few blocks away he pulled over to the curb to try to clean up his face with a soiled gray handkerchief.
As he sat in the car looking at the rear view mirror and trying to get his face clean by spitting on a handkerchief, he heard the rear door of the car open and slam shut. He turned around just as an arm snaked around his neck and strong fingers punched the sides of his cheeks in between his jaws and pressed them cruelly against his teeth.
“Tell me where those friends of yours took that blonde girl, son, or I’ll wring your neck,” Josie said. She actually began to twist his head around, blocking his body from following it with a shapely leg thrown across one shoulder. The hurt, betrayed, suffering Punk looked at the leg pinning his shoulder to the back of the seat, heard his neck crack as Josie gave it an extra little tug, and pleaded, “Don’t hurt me any more, lady. Those guys already hurt me plenty.”
“Tell me where she is,” Josie hissed, letting up on her grip only slightly.
“You won’t let them know I told you, will you?” Punk asked, his voice trembling with fear.
“No, I’ll not tell,” Josie agreed.
Then Punk led her to the hideout and drove off to let the rest of the gang know that Ricky had cancelled the meeting for that night.
Silently Josie stalked the place. Through a tear in the blackout blind, she saw that they had Constance bound in the middle of a large, empty room and two boys were putting her through a savage softening up process. Particularly cruel pattern of blows fell on her helpless person and, covered by the sound, Josie drove her shoulder against the door and it gave way. Striding quickly and quietly toward the large room in which her student and friend was imprisoned, Josie felt a wild and weird anger rising inside her.
They all had their backs to her as the battling woman expert entered the main room of the boys’ hideout. How savagely the two young men were hitting the lovely blonde! It seemed a miracle to Josie that she had been able to withstand the softening up process she had been put through by them this long!
The helpless girl was moaning and sobbing out her name as the blonde punk slashed at her with his wide leather belt and the dark-haired Gar pounded on her taut-muscled body with a large wooden paddle.
Josie felt a seething fury inside herself as she tried the window and found it locked, then went to the front door and discovered it was securely bolted.
In the back was a screen door that she was able to open by pressing her foot through the rusty mesh, then she turned the handle of the inner door and felt it yielding under pressure. She heard Constance’s voice now, louder than before and the sound of the whipping she was receiving almost brought tears to her eyes.
Constance’s body was a livid mass of ugly welts and bruises, Josie saw as she advanced toward the trio.
She saw Gar’s arm come back to deliver another cruel blow to the suffering Constance’s rump and Josie seized the wrist holding the paddle, turned her back to the young man, twisting his arm, and, using her back as the fulcrum and his arm as the lever, pulled him up and over her head to send him failing hard on the ground in a sickening crash.
She dropped to one knee and, using the side of her hand like a meat-axe, chopped Gar once on the Adam’s apple, leaving him gagging and retching and squirming in pain.
She looked up just in time to see Ricky’s heavy belt buckle coming toward her face to lay the side of it wide open.
Josie ducked her head just as the buckle whizzed past it, then she made a wild, flying tackle and caught Ricky just below the knees, sending him crashing heavily to the ground. In a trice Ricky was atop Josie and he tried to drive his elbow against the bridge of her nose.
She caught the elbow in her hand and, with a quick upward and outward thrust, she heard something snap.
Instantly she seized his other arm and stuck her knee in the crook of it, then bent it in hard and sharply so that the elbow was almost pulled out of its socket! She saw an extra length of the rope that had been used to bind Constance and quickly caught Ricky’s ankles in a loop of it which she drew tight and wound repeatedly, very tightly around the ankles before securing the rope in a hard knot.
Then she discovered that Ricky had regained the use of his arms when he put his hands around her neck and was trying to choke her.
Tightening up her neck muscles and pulling in her chin, Josie let Ricky apply all the pressure he could on her neck while she set her left elbow in position and then hit her left fist sharply with her right hand, driving the elbow deeply into Ricky’s breadbasket.
With an “Oof!” of total deflation, Ricky doubled up on the floor and roiled around in agony, his feet still bound.
Quickly Josie leaped up and freed Constance’s wrists. Then she turned to the still writhing Ricky and knelt beside him.
She put her left hand under his nose and pushed upward so that he brought up his two hands to push her hand away. At that instant, she used her powerful right to go in, wrist deep, into his breadbasket again with one cruelly perfect blow.
Now Ricky was completely helpless and Josie picked him up, tossing him over her shoulder with his head hanging down in front.
She shoved a chair under the ropes that had held Constance, pulled herself up on it with her burden, and then tied Ricky’s wrists where Constance’s had previously been.
She looked down just in time to see Gar attempting to pull the chair out from under her. She fell heavily, deliberately on top of him, sending him crashing to the floor.
She noticed a dangling light cord with a naked bulb at the end of it, hanging from the ceiling. Josie pulled down on it, pulling some four feet of it that had been tacked to an overhead beam down to give her the length she wanted. She noted that it was an inoperative fixture, cut off the switch and socket, and proceeded to lash one of Gar’s wrists to the wire while she knelt on his other arm.
With the one arm out of play, it was a simple matter to tie the other with a rope and bring the end of the rope up around his neck so that Gar had his choice of either remaining with an arm in a painful, permanent hammer-lock or else choking himself!
Now that the two assailants were securely bound, Josie could attend the injured Constance. She comforted the terrified, sobbing girl and then felt a renewed fury toward the boys for so wantonly hurting this lovely young girl.
And, to her delight, she saw that something had happened in Constance’s face, too. There was a blazing fury in her eyes, a set to her jaw that Josie recognized as extremely dangerous.
With eyes narrowed, Constance picked up the paddle that Gar had used on her and proceeded to beat him with it fiercely until not a bit of his body that wasn’t protected by the arm bent up behind his back wasn’t the recipient of her savage blows.
Meanwhile ]osie was working on Picky with the belt he had used on Constance and she made certain that the buckle with which he had tried to cut her face open did similar havoc to his back.
How exhilarating it was to have these two at their mercy. “See, fellows,” ]osie said, “we soft, delicate creatures you find so amusing because we wear pretty silken clothes can have our fun with you, too! You know what you’re undergoing now? Silken suffering!”
“Aw shut your damned mouth,” Picky said in an effort to show how tough he was and that he was still the gang leader.
Thereupon Constance picked up the torn dress she had worn and wadded the shoulder pads from it into his mouth, then secured them in place tightly with a strip of the silk fabric.
Josie took her cue from Constance and did a similar job of gagging Gar. Now Constance took off Ricky’s shoes and proceeded to stamp on his bare feet with her high-heeled shoes.
“I think they’re too comfortable this way,” she told Josie. Then she devised an even more fiendish way of binding Ricky.
She untied his ankles and tied lengths of heavy canvas webbing to the ankles in the shape of a “Y”. She pulled one end of this over a beam so that his body was in the position of a hammock and, abruptly, cut the ropes holding his wrists.
He fell back, terrified, and was hanging by his ankles now. His arms flailed the air wildly and Constance hit him across the back so hard with the belt that she compelled him to cross his wrists while Josie tied them together.
Now he was silenced and helpless and ready for Constance’s wickedly wielded belt. Meanwhile Josie had repositioned Gar with his legs bound to a stake pushed into a knothole in the floor and his wrists tied to the wall with the wire. She found a whip in a locker and applied it to Gar’s back with a vengeance.
For fully two hours the boys underwent this phase of their silken suffering. Then Josie suddenly said. “This one has passed out. Do you mind if I join you in working over Picky? He’s the gang leader anyway.”
“Not at all,” Constance said cordially. “Let’s get him into a position where we can both have plenty of room to get at him.”
They studied the situation while the bound and gagged Ricky watched them with wide-eyed consternation. Then they decided on his new position.
A wide belt was fastened around his middle with a length extending outward from the front. This was used to suspend him from the ceiling beam.
Now the two girls put heavy screw-eyes into the floor, two at his head and two at his feet, and his wrists and ankles were bound to these, leaving his body stretched taut in space, completely unprotected, open to their blows.
“He told me he enjoyed hearing me yell before,” Constance said, “and that people were so afraid of his gang that they’d not do anything if any yells were heard coming from here anyway.”
Thereupon she removed Ricky’s gag.
Now the two girls stationed themselves on either side of their helpless, suspended, bound victim and proceeded to whale away at him with a variety of weapons, belts and cudgels, whips and paddles, until he was begging them for mercy, promising to do anything they said if only they would let up on him.
The more he pleaded, the harder they hit until soon his wails were reduced to a low, whining whimpering like a whipped puppy’s.
“I think I’ll go invite your hoodlum gang in to see what we did to you,” Constance said.
“No,” the suffering Ricky pleaded, “please don’t do that. I’d never be able to face them again if they saw this. Look, I’ll do whatever you order me to, but make it look like it was my idea, not yours.”
Suddenly consternation came over his face, for he realized now what imaginations these two women had.
“‘You’ll not back down on that?” Josie insisted.
“No,” Picky said, sagging in defeat. “I’ll do it. Take away my gang and I’ve just about had it. I need to be their leader regardless of what I’m leading them to.”
Then it was that Josie and Constance freed Picky from his strained, helpless position and took him with them to Josie’s studio, leaving the unconscious Gar untied to come to at his leisure. In the studio, Josie dressed Picky in a silken kimono and had him serve as her straw man while she showed Constance still more judo holds, throws and breaks.
“We’re going to have lessons here for all the girls in this neighborhood who want to learn to defend themselves against the likes of you,” Josie said. “And we need assailants to toss around. So bring in your gang next Monday at seven o’clock in the evening. We’re putting them to work, receiving blows and taking falls. Some of them will get hurt, I’m warning you, but the results will be greater safety for the girls in this end of town.”
It was a defeated man who left the two beauties and who rounded up his crew. They were self-conscious that Monday might in their very strange new attire and they took some bruising falls as a result of the lessons Josie gave the girls. Punk looked at Josie but one hard look at her face was all it took to ensure his silence about anything that went on between them or her and the other two boys after that.
Gar wasn’t in any condition to make it that Monday but he came the next week.
Once Josie had them enrolled as voluntary staff members, she, through their leader Ricky, taught them all how to dance and polished the crew of them up into a bunch of candidates for a male charm school.
In time the new smoothness that the men possessed gave them an entirely different social bearing and the police in the area presented ]osie with a special citation for the work that she had done in improving conditions in the neighborhood.
There were rebellions from time to time, a gang member who refused to wash up and get a haircut when Ricky ordered it, one who objected to the techniques the girls used on him and hit back, or some who would occasionally get involved in a rumble.
On these occasions, Constance and Josie would get all dressed up in their prettiest, most feminine costumes and cajole the fellow into coming with them to the quarters in which Constance was first held captive the time Josie rescued her.
The neighbors would hear the shouting and the wailing of the poor fellow bound helplessly by the lovely girls, beaten to complete subjection, and it would be music to their ears.
“There was a time,” one of them would say to another, “when it was their victims, not the members, we heard yelling like that.” Then they would open their windows and listen to the happy sounds of a difficult boy getting his values straightened out.
It was many months later when Ricky, now well-dressed and neat appearing, speaking in a cultured voice and behaving every inch the gentleman, was working at the registration desk of Josie’s school for self-defense that Constance came m after a trip to Canada.
“I hardly recognized you,” she said. The smile on her face was genuine. The warmth in her voice couldn’t have been faked.
“Well thanks,” Ricky said, grinning shyly. “I recognized you, though, even with your dress on and no whip in your hand.”
They laughed briefly and then looked at each other seriously.
“I’ve never really thanked you for the lesson in silken suffering that you and Josie taught me,” Ricky finally forced himself to say. “It was a valuable lesson.”
“You’re a pretty big guy to tell me that,” Constance said, looking deeply into his eyes.
Ricky felt his head swimming.
“I’d sort of like some more lessons, though,” he said. “Private ones, just to polish me up a little more.”
A slow smile played in the corners of Constance’s mouth, and she looked at him happily. “Come on, let’s go to your old place,” she said. “I’d love to give you some very special private training in even more kinds of silken suffering.”
She gripped his hand firmly and led him away.
There was a big, happy grin on his face.