Tough Pulp Ladies

The Game Is Up

Braddock tried hiding from Diana Dawn, secret agent, but it was to no avail. The woman was relentless and the fugitive spy had already been on the wrong end of Diana’s expert judo and karate before making his desperate escape. When Diana inevitably located him in the basmement, Braddock knew the game was up…

The Dame Was A Knockout!, Startling Crime Magazine (May 2021) by D.J. O’Connor

Roxy Rover was a qualified chemist with a particular talent for producing soporific and incapacitating gases with a minimum of long term harm to its victims. This made Roxy a coveted asset by any number of gangs planning bank or jewellery store heists, but who wanted to avoid assault or bodily harm charges. Roxy made a decent living providing the means by which security guards, staff and customers could be put out of action allowing her criminal employers time to rip off the establishments concerned with no fear of alarms or heroics. Her main group of ne’er-do-well colleagues became known as the Knockout Gang and the glamorous Roxy, the gang’s sole female member was dubbed The Knockout Dame by a sensationalist press.

However, Roxy was always resentful that she was rarely awarded more than 5% of the haul by the Gang and its leader, Big Duke, with whom she had become romantically attached, despite the fact without her inventive vapours, there would be no successful robberies at all. So when Detective Owen Simpson approached the so-called Knockout Dame, promising she could keep as much of the proceeds of the group’s next robbery that she could carry, providing she also delivered the Knockout Gang and Big Duke happily in dreamland for the cops to collect once the job was done and that she then retired from her life of crime for good, Roxy leapt at the chance.

“Sorry, lover,” Roxy said through her gasmask to Big Duke as he lay on his front, out for the count while she tied his hands behind his back, “but I guess all’s fair in love and bank robberies!” Roxy left every member of the Knockout Gang softly snoring into their cleave gags, all safely secured on their sides in hogties. The police arrived just as the saps were coming to, mmmmmphing furiously. As for Roxy, she was never seen again, although rumours of a wealthy female socialite hanging out in Miami, Monte Carlo and the Caribbean, who displayed a strange interest in chemical compounds and known only as Lady Roq, persisted for many years afterwards…

“Hold it right there!” she ordered. “Hand me that envelope!”

Hank took one look at the gun pointed at his midriff and he decided not to argue with the glamorous female intruder. She took the envelope in her opera glove-clad left hand, keeping the gun trained on the sullen looking Hank. As she pushed her prize down the front of her ballgown, the frustrated man eyed her, furious he should have been gazumped like this.

“Ok, Mata Hari,” he said sourly to the woman, “what happens now?” The female thief’s lips came together in a red lipsticked disarming smile. “You’re gonna be a well behaved little boy, honey,” she replied “and let me tie you up and gag you so I can be well away without any interference.” Hank’s glowering expression turned to anger at this and woman released the safety on her revolver. “Now I’m just a nervous female,” she told him, “not familiar with guns. Why, this thing might just go off without me meaning it to and, well, you are in the way…”

“All right, all right, witch,” Hank muttered, accepting defeat, and placed his hands behind his back before being asked. His female nemesis grinned. “Why thank you, kind sir,” she remarked and pulled out a nylon stocking from her purse, “you are such a gentleman - anticipating a lady’s every wish! I’ll try not to make it too tight…”

Do Not Open

“Get used to it, Sheriff!” exclaims Maggie Morgan as she slams the the lid of the trunk down hard on the the man’s extended gun hand, which simultaneously strikes his left hand as it clutches the edge of his prison as he tries to lever his way out. “I told you - it’s your new home!”

The weight that the glamorous female gambler can bring to the lid by kneeling on it hard, is too much for the enraged man. With a shout of pain, the gun clatters to the floor and he withdraws his other hand to prevent its fingers being severed. With a smile of triumphant satisfaction, Maggie forces the lid down until she hears it click shut and the sheriff’s outraged shouts become barely audible from within the cavernous trunk. Maggie stands up and smooths her revealing silk dress and touches up her rouge in front of of the mirror before telling herself it was time to hightail it out of Silver Creek. “It was fun while it lasted, girl,” she tells her reflection, “but you have definitely outstayed your welcome.”

The woman elegantly steps over to her bedside table, retrieves a piece of paper from the drawer and quickly scribbles some words on it before fixing it to the trunk from which frustrated thumps are emanating. Maggie then throws some clothes into a case, pulls on a coat against the early winter cold and goes to leave the room. She pauses at the hotel room door. “So long, Sheriff,” she murmurs and smiles at the sight of the note she has left affixed to the trunk. It reads: ‘Do Not Open Until Christmas'.

Cuffed

“Just hurry up and get me loose from these bracelets, bub,” said red haired detective Sandra Salvo, after getting the drop on her careless guard and using her well-practiced sleight of hand to relieve the gangster of his gun, “and maybe you’ll get away without being perforated tonight!” The man gazed at the woman resentfully as he released one handcuff from around Sandra’s wrist and reluctantly moved to liberate the other.

“Good boy.” the female PI said, allowing herself a slight smile of relief as the tight metal loosened and then fell away. “Now you get over there and face the wall with your hands behind your back.” she continued. “You’re about to join the dishonourable roll call of complete jerks who wind up being cuffed with their own cuffs and, in your case, gagged too.” The man glowered at Salvo but he wasn’t going to argue with the detective’s newly acquired gun and shuffled over to the wall as she instructed. Later, as she secured the gagged gangster’s hands behind him with the cuffs, Sandra said to the humiliated man cheerily: “Never underestimate a woman, sweetheart!”

Honey Trapped!

Randall was about to fall for the oldest trick in the espionage playbook. Later, in the trunk of the car belonging to the lithe sexy blonde in the tight red dress who had seduced him, and being driven along what felt like rutted dirt tracks, the tied up and gagged operative wondered how he could have been so utterly stupid…

Special Delivery

Patsy Payne, private detective, wasted little time in tying up the guard the gang had left on watch while they hit the gambling joints to celebrate their haul. “Now you just relax now, sugar,” the redhead told the miserable-looking and resentful Alberto as she tied a strip of white cloth tightly around the defeated gangster’s mouth, “and sorry about the bruises and all, but you just wouldn’t co-operate, would you?” Once Alberto was safely silenced, Patsy got to her feet and began to search the warehouse, her red heels clicking on the wooden boards as she went. All she needed was to find the pile of cash and jewellery the Mancini gang had lifted from First National and she would have everything the cops would need to move in on Big Luigi. Alberto had refused to talk but he couldn’t help but let out a moaning “mmmph” as she approached a packing case marked consegna speciale. “Now that’s a clue, sweet cheeks.” the detective grinned back at her captive who glared back at her in fury. “Shall we see what that special delivery is?”

The Conwoman

Maxwell Schneider, the Union Bank branch manager had been delighted when Elaine de Porter, famed east coast millionairess had asked for a private meeting with him one evening in order to discuss discuss the possibility of her depositing over $500,000 with his humble rural institution. “I just feel my savings would be so much safer in an out-of-the-way bank like yours, Mr Schneider, is it?” she had said to him over the phone. “Those awful mobsters keep robbing the banks in the city!” Maxwell made all the right reassuring noises to Mrs de Porter and was very happy to accede to her slightly odd request to meet him alone in the bank vaults so the lady could see for herself just how secure Hyacinth Town’s Union branch really was.

It was with much pride, therefore, that Maxwell gave the female plutocrat a personal guided tour of the basement vaults, opening up the safes full of cash and family jewellery to demonstrate the extent to which the de Porter fortune would be safe in his hands. It was therefore with some surprise that Schneider turned around from preparing to re-seal the main vault to find himself staring down the barrel of a revolver held in Elaine’s beautifully manicured hands. “Don’t seal up, buddy,” the blonde sophisticate said to him harshly, her cultured Boston accent suddenly gone, “just drop those wads of folding green in my sack here.” Maxwell realised he had been had but was not about to argue with the glamorous bandit. After he had handed over almost a million in cash to the sweetly smiling minx, he then found himself forced to floor as the fake Mrs de Porter produced a length of rope and a piece of cloth from her accessorised handbag. “Time to get you tied up and gagged, honey,” she told him with a smirk, “and don’t worry, I’ll leave a note on the safe door telling them how to find you after I’ve gone!”

Poor Max sighed deeply while he was tightly bound by the stockings-clad conwoman. ‘There goes this month’s bonus!’ the gagged bank manager thought to himself sadly…

Detective In Trouble

“As soon as we taken care of Mr Reynolds here, Daisy, we can have a proper look around!”

“You tear up some more strips then tie up and gag his boyfriend, Janice - then we need to make tracks!”

“Sure thing, Marty.”

Madeleine turned as Miles lunged at her, gun in hand. The woman swerved abruptly and her assailant lost his footing and went tumbling head first down the stairs. The redheaded detective used the butt of her own weapon to help the hapless Miles on his way.

Go To Sleep, Honey

Geoff woke with a start and was suddenly aware of a slim, undoubtedly feminine, figure leaning over him. Through the fitful moonlight shining into his bedroom, the man became conscious of the filmy yellow dress, striking red hair and full lipsticked mouth of the woman looking deep into his eyes. For all the sensual beauty of his midnight visitor, Geoff knew something was not right. Suddenly he felt a damp towel, soaked in a sweet-smelling liquid, being pressed against his mouth and nose. He grasped the wrist of the woman as she held the chloroform gag firmly in place, trying to fight. Half asleep and without leverage, he soon felt himself succumbing to the surprisingly strong female.

“Go to sleep, honey,” he heard her seductive languid tones in his ear, “and when you wake up, your safe will be empty and you will be tied up and gagged, awaiting the arrival of your housekeeper. I of course will be long gone. Nighty-night, sweetie.” Geoff tried to protest, but within seconds he was in a deep dreamless sleep as his mysterious captor smiled enigmatically above him.