Deidre 3

 

In a rundown part of town full of rusting and forgotten factories, stood an old warehouse.  Years ago it was used as storage space for an auto parts manufacturer.  But when the manufacturer found they could get cheaper storage in the rural areas, they moved out and sold the building.  It has since been converted into a women-only gym facility.  It had high glass windows that could be opened for good circulation as well as plenty of natural light.  There was one more floor above the gym facility.  The auto parts management offices were located here at one time.  Even though it was one building, both floors had two separate entrances on parallel streets.  The space upstairs has since been gutted and used as a martial arts studio.

 

Downstairs in the gym, Ms. Gibson was spotting Deidre at the weight bench.  The striations of Deidre’s pectoral muscles strained under the weight of her last 250 lb. bench press.  Ms. Gibson applauded the effort and told Deidre she doesn’t know how she can lift so much.  Deidre smiled, got up and wiped down the bench with her towel. 

 

“All in a hard day’s work,” she said.

 

Just then, a man kicked in the door to the gym and pulled out a gun.  All the women screamed and began to scatter.

 

“Stay where you are or someone gets killed!” he shouted, moving the gun from left to right.  “Nobody move!”

 

The dozen or so women, trapped at gunpoint in this large room, became motionless and watched him.  He was of medium build and maybe 5’7”.  His olive skin looked weather beaten and his eyes looked fearless. 

 

“Tell me where is the money and nobody gets hurt,” he said.

 

Everyone stood silently and didn’t move.

 

“TELL ME!” he shouted.

 

Still, nobody moved.  He then pointed the gun at Deidre’s head and shouted “ARE YOU THE OWNER?  WHERE IS THE MONEY?!”

 

Shaking and scared, Deidre told him she didn’t know the owner.

 

“BULLSHIT!  I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE OWNER – NOW!” he screamed.

 

But nobody moved or said anything. 

 

“The owner is upstairs,” said Ms. Gibson.  “But you have to enter from Front Street, a block behind this entrance.” 

 

“WHAT?!  BULLSHIT!  WHO IS THE OWNER?!”

 

“Upstairs,” Ms. Gibson repeated.

 

Suddenly, on the other side of the room, one of the ladies accidentally dropped a dumbbell.  It made a loud ping against the cement floor, which startled everyone, including the gunman.  Deirdre, seeing him turn away, grabbed his wrist with the gun, raised his arm and socked him in the gut.  The force of her punch jacked his feet off the ground and Deidre easily peeled the gun from his hand.  She handed the piece over to Ms. Gibson who checked it and removed the cartridge.  With the gunman still reeling from the punch, Deidre pushed him onto a nearby weight bench and grabbed a long leather weight belt from her gym bag.  In seconds, she had the gunman tied up.

 

Strapped to a weight bench by a thick leather belt around his chest, the gunman begged with Deidre to let him go.  His medium frame was getting crunched under the sheer pull of the belt as he tried to move his arms.  But Deidre had other ideas.  She held the ends of the belt in her hands and pulled, pinching his chest and arms to numbness.  Her trapezius muscles, like the slope of a mountainside, rocked through her shoulders as her arms pulled the belt straps toward her.  The triceps bulged furiously from the back of her arms while her stony biceps strained through her skin.  Tracked veins popped out of her forearms as she pumped a few more centimeters of strap.  Her legs, on either side of his laying body, were like immovable marble pillars standing erect under the dimpled cannon balls of her buttocks.  Her v-shaped torso was an awesome display of abdominal muscle, hard at work.  Her ribs stood out like thick sausages under her huge breasts. 

 

Deidre, her arms shaking harder, pulled the straps even closer.  Her biceps ripped and ready to blast like nervous bombs, expanded further.  The gunman’s chest was caving in under the stress of the leather belt.  He could feel his ribs and arms crushing under such force.  The cement floor, where the weight bench was bolted to, suddenly began to crack.  The weight bench lifted a little off the ground taking some cement up with it and loosened the grip Deidre had on him.  Bending her powerful legs a bit, she curled up the belts even further and was using her stomach and thigh muscles to add pressure.  The weight bench with the strapped body on it, burst out of the cement floor, leaving Deidre holding the strapped body and bench in her hands.  The gunman stopped moving and Deidre put everything back down. 

 

The dozen women in the gym breathed a sigh of relief and crowded around the body.  He was still breathing, just passed out.  The police are called and the gunman is taken into custody.

 

Several days later, a note is taped to the front door.  It says that Melissa, one of the gym’s regulars, was kidnapped in revenge for the capture of their accomplice and that unless they are given $10,000, to forget about seeing her again.  Ms. Gibson took the note for evidence. 

 

From her private eye office, Ms. Gibson was able to trace the letter back to a PO Box.  She found the name of the owner of the PO Box and located his address.  She went with Deidre to the small bungalow just on the edge of the city to scout the house.  Ms. Gibson identified one of the people going into the house but found that there was another man there as well. 

 

Back at the office, Ms. Gibson told Deidre that it would be too risky for just one person to handle the two men, who might have guns or other weapons. 

 

“What should we do?” Deidre asked.

 

“I think I should introduce you to the owner of the gym,” Ms. Gibson said. 

 

They traveled back to the gym and went up the back stairs to the martial arts studio.  They could hear the yells from the women as soon as they opened the door. There was a martial arts class going on and they were doing exercises.  Deidre and Ms. Gibson looked through the doors and watched a class of about 20 women and one man, doing  synchronized kicks and chops. 

 

“Is that the owner?” asked Deidre, nodding toward the man.

 

“No,” said Mr. Gibson, “Over on the other side, the Asian lady.”

 

Tamika, the gym’s owner, was a buff, chesty Japanese lady with a powerful kick and svelte muscles.  She had high cheekbones and a look that could kill.  The exercises ended and everyone sat down but Tamika and the man.  She began lecturing and pointing, demonstrating a kick to the chest in slow motion.  Deidre watched the agile control of Tamika’s powerful legs holding their position while she spoke and moved her arms.  She wore a black two-piece gym outfit that accentuated her athletic curves and dark features.  Her demonstration included live grappling, which ended with a lightning quick kick to the man’s chest.  It sent him flying back onto the mat.   He winced in pain and grabbed his chest but got up anyway.  Tamika continued talking through the demonstration. 

 

When another exercise started, Tamika walked over to the door and greeted Ms. Gibson. 

 

“I hear you find their house,” she said to Ms. Gibson in somewhat broken English.  “When do I go?”

 

“Yes, I did, Tamika,” Ms. Gibson said.  “Let me introduce you to Deidre.  She’ll be going with you.”

 

Deidre and Tamika nodded to each other and bowed respectfully.

 

“I heard Ms. Deidre is very capable with weight bench,” Tamika said to Ms. Gibson, while she gently felt Deidre’s bicep.  “In more way than one!”

 

“Yes, she is,” Ms. Gibson laughed.  “I know that one of the men in the house is a registered gun owner and I’m assuming the other one is.  I thought it would be a good idea if both of you went.”

 

Everyone agreed and off they went.  It was already dark out when they arrived at the bungalow.  Some lights were on, including a basement light.  Ms. Gibson got out of the car and scouted the house some more.  Deidre and Tamika, dressed in black, waited in the car for her.

 

“That was quite a kick today,” Deidre told Tamika.  “At the studio?”

 

“Oh yeah,” said Tamika.  “I spend every day of my life kicking man, punching man, choking man.  Sometimes I break man’s arm when he get cocky!”

 

“Really?  That guy I saw in your class today?”

 

“Oh, different guy that volunteer for class.  Many come back.  Say they like getting beat up by sexy Japanese lady,” Tamika laughed.  “They silly.”

 

“I bet.”

 

“But you know, Deidre?  Many of my student have been raped and attacked by man.  And for them to see woman like me hurt man like I do, it give them confidence,” Tamika said.

 

“I’m sure it does,” Deidre agreed. 

 

“When a woman shows confidence, she will be much safer in the world,” Tamika said.  “But you know, it doesn’t hurt to be tough, too.  You look like you can tear a man apart with your bare hands, Deidre.”

 

“I can.”

 

Just then, Ms. Gibson came back to the car and sat down.

 

“OK, I heard her crying in the basement and there’re two other voices, males… at least,” Ms. Gibson started.  “Here’s the plan.  I’m gonna ring the bell and ask if I could use the phone because my car broke down.  The basement window is from the back yard.  When I get the two men out in front, or at least upstairs.  I’m gonna “accidentally” set the alarm on my car and then turn it off.  The damsel in distress usually gets them.  Anyway, when you hear that alarm, the coast is clear and you can enter the basement through the window.  Get her out as quickly as possible and run over to the main boulevard about 4 blocks behind the house.  I’ll pick you up later.”

 

“Do you think that will work?” Deidre asked, skeptically.

 

“It’s all I can think of,” Ms. Gibson answered.  “Can you think of a better plan?”

 

Everyone was silent for a moment.

 

“OK,” said Tamika.  “Let’s go.”

 

Tamika and Deidre crept around to the backyard and hid near the bushes, waiting for the signal.  Ms. Gibson popped the hood of her car and dislodged on of the belts.  She closed the hood quietly and started the engine, which, of course, wouldn’t start.  So she went to the door of the bungalow and rang the bell.  No one answered, so she rang again.  Finally, a man appeared in the window and asked what was the matter.

 

“My car stopped running over there on the street,” Ms. Gibson explained.  “I have knocked on a few doors but no one’s answering.  I need someone to look at it.  I need to go and pick up my daughter.  Can I borrow a phone to call a tow truck?” 

 

The man hesitated for a moment, looking agitated.

 

“Please?” Ms. Gibson pleaded.

 

“Alright, wait a sec,” the man grumbled. 

 

A few minutes passed before he came out the front door.  “Lemme look at it,” he said.

 

He walked out to the car and she tried to start the engine.  It squealed a little bit.  So he popped the hood and had a look around.  She started the car again and nothing.  The man went in to get a flashlight and get a closer look at the engine.  When he came back out, another man appeared in the doorway.

 

“Jack, what are ya doing?” he called.

 

“The lady’s car broke down but I think I can fix it,” said Jack.  “Can you get me a screwdriver?  I think the belt slipped.”

 

The other man went back into the house and reappeared moments later out in the street.  Jack slipped the belt back on the wheel and told Ms. Gibson, “Lady, give it a try now.”

 

Ms. Gibson, pretending to be nervous, honked the horn and profusely apologized. 

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I just… I’m just really nervous,” she said.

 

Meanwhile, Tamika and Deidre, after hearing the signal, scamper across the backyard and to the basement window.  The lights are off and they can’t see in.  Deidre tries opening the window but it’s locked.  Using her shoe, she pops a hole through the glass, shattering it into the basement’s cement floor.  She quickly unlocks the window and goes in.  Tamika follows.

 

“What was that?” Jack asked, looking at the house.  “Manny d’you hear that?”

 

Manny looked at the house, too, looking for signs.  But Ms. Gibson started up her engine and tried to distract them a little longer, by pretending not to notice.

 

“Oh, that was it!  Well, how do you suppose that happened?  Oh, thank you so much,” she gushed.  “What were your names again?”

 

“Manny and Jack,” said Jack.

 

Once inside the basement, Tamika and Deirdre could see only what was lit by the dim outdoor light.  They heard moans from a corner and walked toward it.  That’s where they found Melissa, tied to a table.  She was blindfolded and stripped from her waist down.  She was bleeding.  Tamika and Deidre quickly untied her and took the blindfold off.  Melissa said they were raping her repeatedly using all sort of devices around the room.  She also said that they each carried a pistol tucked in the rear belt of their pants. 

 

Tamika and Deidre heard footsteps upstairs and quickly whisked Melissa up to the basement window, where she crawled out and ran away.  Deidre was hoisting herself up after her when Tamika put her hand on her shoulder.

 

“We stay,” she said sternly with a cold-blooded look.  “They rape her.  We fuck them, too.  We stay and fuck them good.”

 

Deidre reluctantly agreed.  Now that their eyes have adjusted to the dark, they could see all sorts of leather straps bolted to the walls.  Some whips, handcuffs and metal prods were lying about.  They also noticed that there were no stairs leading up to the basement door.  They were removed and the door was 10 feet off the ground. 

 

“Quick, hide in closet over there,” Tamika ordered.

 

Deirdre did so and soon afterward, the lights in the basement came on.  Tamika was in the middle of the room.  She went for the basement window and struggled to get out.  The two men, opened the door, yelled “HOLD IT!” and quickly lowered a ladder into the basement.  Tamika waited for them and they approached her slowly, smiling.

 

“I see you got your friend out of here,” Jack snarled.  “Now what about you?”

 

Tamika looked at him coldly, but Jack just laughed.  “Oh, you are sexy.  Manny, take a look at this girl’s package.” 

 

Manny looked angrily at her and said, “You wouldn’t happen to know the lady whose car we just fixed, would you?” 

 

Tamika said nothing.  Manny pulled out his gun and pointed it at her “LAY DOWN!  THERE, ON THE TABLE!”

 

She did as they told her and slowly lied down on the table.  Her tight black pants and shirt hugged her athletic curves and round, powerful legs.  Manny’s eyes widened when she lied down slowly, seductively, eyeing him the entire way.  Jack stood in front of the closet, and began to strap Tamika onto the table.  Once he got the strap around her arms and chest, Tamika yelled “Ye-AHH!” and kicked the pistol from Manny’s hand.  Just then, Deidre burst through the closet door and quickly grabbed the pistol from Jack’s pants.  Manny went looking for his gun, while Jack scrambled to get out of the way. 

 

“AGAINST THE WALL!” Deidre yelled at them.  But they didn’t move.  “Against.  The.  Wall.”  She said again. 

 

At that point, Tamika tensed her body, expanded her chest, let out another yell “Ye-AHH!!” and broke through the leather strap holding her to the table, and jumped off.

 

“Against the wall or I’ll shoot you both,” Deidre sternly warned.

 

Jack and Manny laughed.  “The gun’s not loaded,” Manny said calmly.  “Go on, shoot it.” 

 

Deidre kept it pointed as Tamika walked past them and picked up the other gun.  Tamika checked the magazine and found it was empty.  So was Deirdre’s. 

 

“So there.  You got us,” Manny laughed.  “Now what are ya gonna do?  Punch us?” He laughed.  “Kick us?”  They both laughed.

 

“That sounds like good idea,” said Tamika.  “You,” she pointed to Manny.  “You with big mouth.  You and me fight.  Man to woman.  Come on.  We go now.”

 

“What?!” said Manny.  “Are you serious?  I can’t hit a woman.”

 

“No?” shrieked Tamika.  “You can’t hit them but you can strap her down and rape her, no?” 

 

Manny didn’t say anything and was growing a little tense. 

 

“Let’s do it,” said Jack with a bedeviled smile.  “Let’s show these ladies a good time.” 

 

He then walked over to the ladder and knocked it down.  “Let’s have a ladder match.” Jack suggested.  He then tore off his shirt and shoes and loosened his neck and arms.  “C’mon,” he said.  “Either one of you, let’s go.”  He danced from side to side, loosening up.  “One man vs. one woman, let’s go.”

 

Tamika quickly removed her shirt and pants, stripping down to a black sports bra and small black shorts.  Her curvy, athletic build was padded with smooth muscles.  Jack stopped moving altogether and stared.  “Jesus” he said, astonished.  After regrouping, he took a deep breath and ran toward her.  She grabbed one of his arms, tucked it behind his head and threw him on his back.  Before he could get up, she sat on his chest and straddled him down, pinning his arms with her legs.  She clenched her right fist and gave him a quick sock to the mouth, shattering a few of his teeth.  He whined as blood started to ooze from his lips.  Sitting over him, Tamika stared coldly at his face with her narrow black eyes.

 

“I can kill you with one punch,” she said menacingly, as she clenched her fist again. 

 

Jack squirmed, shut his eyes, and yelled “No!”  But Tamika held her pose.

 

“Get up on table,” she commanded him.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“Get up on table or I hit you!” she yelled.  She stood up and Jack quickly scurried to the table.  Tamika quickly strapped his hands down with the broken straps and left his legs loose.  Manny started to walk toward her but was stopped by Tamika’s menacing glare.  “Try me,” she dared.  “Ya know,” she continued. “I feel bad for you.  Really bad.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Manny asked, sounding tough.  “Why?”

 

Tamika smiled.  “Cuz’ now it’s your turn to fight.” 

 

“Right,” he said, smiling strangely.  “Your fancy punches won’t work with me, though.”

 

“I know they will,” she said confidently.  “But it’s not me you’re going to fight.”  She nodded toward Deirdre. 

 

She nodded back at Tamika and began removing her clothes.  She pulled of her black hooded sweatshirt and black sweat pants until she wore nothing but a white sports bra and matching white shorts.  Manny gasped when he saw her body, padded with stone-solid muscles, bulging from everywhere.  Her only soft spots were her breasts, which perked out over her brick wall abs like two honeydew melons.  He was frozen in place, staring in fear at his opponent.  Deirdre stared into his eyes and slowly raised her arms.  Before he made any motion, she had his head in a vice, between the palms of her hands. 

 

Jack looked on from the table and watched her triceps bulging like horseshoes, as she squeezed Manny’s head so hard, she lifted him off the ground.  Manny made hardly a sound but struggled violently to take break free.  But his best efforts were no match for her strength.  She held him and squeezed harder and harder, watching his face turn red, then purple.  After about a minute, he gave up and passed out, still hanging in mid-air.  Deidre pulled her hands apart and watched him crumble to the floor, where he lay in a deep, deep sleep. 

 

Jack trembled nervously on the table, his eyes looking in fear at Deidre.  “D-d—don’t… hurt.. me,” he pleaded and started to whimper.  “Please don’t hurt me.”

 

Tamika smiled at Deidre and looked back at Jack.  “Oh, honey she no gonna hurt you,” Tamika reassured him.  “She gonna stand right there.”

 

Jack looked at Deirdre, then Tamika, then back at Deirdre.

 

“Yep.  She gonna stand right there,” Tamika repeated.  “And she gonna watch me hurt you.  But don’t worry too hard.  I not as strong as her.  It gonna take me long time to hurt you.  Very long time.”

 

Tamika casually unstrapped Jack’s hands from the table and watched him scurry around the room.  He began to pick up the ladder to let himself out.

 

“Uh-uh, Jack,” warned Tamika.  “You no go anywhere.”

 

But Jack stood the ladder up anyway and began climbing up to the basement door.  Tamika calmly walked over, glanced at Deidre as if to say ‘watch this’ and kicked the ladder.  The ladder broke and came crashing down.  Jack grabbed the lip of the floor and hung from the bottom of the doorway.  Tamika stood still and smiled at him.  He tried lifting himself up but wasn’t strong enough.  He tried again and let out a gasp. 

 

“You better save your strength, Jack,” Tamika warned.  “You can let go and come down here like good boy… or I can kick you down, like piñata!” 

 

Jack held on for a little longer than finally let go and fell four feet to the floor.  Tamika pointed to a chair in the room, “Have a seat, Jack.”  Jack got up from the floor and humbly sat down, the blood still dripping from his mouth.  Tamika stood in front of him, upright and in control to contrast his hunched, defeated posture.  “Tell me, Jack,” she started.  “How many times you rape her?”

 

Jack shuddered for a moment but didn’t answer.  Tamika clenched her fist and slammed it down between his legs, breaking the chair in two.  “I could shatter your balls, Jack,” she said matter-of-factly.  “I just want you to tell me how many times you rape her.”

 

Jack, trembling on the floor, began to hyperventilate and seize up.  “Oh, don’t lose me now, Jack.  It is simple question.”  She leaned into his perspiring face and looked directly into his glassy, fearful eyes.  “How.  Many.  Time.”  But Jack couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.  He crawled around on the floor and cornered himself.  Tamika stood directly over him, grabbed his hair in her two fists and picked him up off the ground.  “I ask one more time, Jack,” she said.  “Or you end up worse than your friend.”  She nodded to the lifeless body on the other side of the room.  Jack looked at Manny, his eyes dropped and then at Deirdre, who stood sternly.  “How.  Many.  Time.”

 

Jack’s lips quivered as he started to speak.  He was being held up purely by her hands as his knees were buckled.  “M-m-many t-t-tim..”

 

But before he could finish the word, Tamika shot a lightning quick knee jerk right in his crotch.  He gasped as his body jumped two feet in the air from the force of the jerk.  His body seized up and he spit up blood a few times before passing out himself. 

 

Tamika looked at Deirdre, who smiled back.  “Nice job,” she said to Tamika.

 

They gathered their clothes back on and left through the basement window.  Scurrying across four blocks, they found Ms. Gibson parked on the main boulevard, with Melissa in the passenger seat.  She drove Tamika and Deirdre back to the gym and took Melissa down to the precinct.  Melissa told the police that two hooded people set her free and she didn’t see their faces.  Jack and Manny were picked up later that night, hospitalized and booked for kidnapping, rape and aggravated assault.

 

Back at the studio, Tamika and Deidre talked for a while.  After showing Deidre some martial arts moves, Tamika went downstairs to the gym and spotted Deidre on the weight bench.  As her striated pectoral muscles bulged, she pressed the first of her 250 lb reps in the air. 

 

“Wow,” said Tamika.  “You really ARE capable with weight bench.”