Jennifer Hart knew she was in deadly danger but wasn't panicking. The plucky and resourceful society hostess knew she had to stay calm and think things through carefully. Her life depended on it—as did the life of her beloved husband, the millionaire businessman Jonathan Hart.
The hot summer evening had started so well. The Harts had hosted a successful high society fundraiser for one of their favorite charities. Then, as the evening wound down, the guests left, the caterers packed up and departed, and they even dismissed their faithful butler, Max, so he could enjoy some time off with his new lady friend. The Harts were finally alone. Or so they thought.
Suddenly, a couple had stepped out of nowhere. The Harts' first thought was that they'd been in the grounds, hadn't realized the party had finished, and were sheepishly going to apologize before leaving. But the revolver the man suddenly pulled from his jacket pocket told a very different story. The man—middle-aged, powerfully built, and wearing a tuxedo—explained that Mr. Hart would be accompanying him to the bank and making an out-of-hours withdrawal. He forced Jonathan to make a call to his 24-hour personal banking hotline. Mr. Hart's credit and standing were so good that—of course—there'd been a personal banker dispatched to take care of this top-tier client.
The man's companion was a tall, slim, attractive blonde, expensively dressed in a revealing red cocktail dress, sleeveless, low-cut, and very short. She was wearing silver high-heeled shoes and carrying a small designer purse, from which she drew a small chrome-plated automatic pistol, which she pointed at Jennifer Hart, keeping her in check while her partner-in-crime explained to Mr. Hart how things would go down.
The man had sat Jennifer in a chair and expertly tied her arms tightly behind her back, wrapping a piece of rope tightly around her wrists. Jonathan had looked for an opening, but both criminals were armed, Jennifer was in harm's way, and the man acted and moved like a professional, never taking his eyes off Jonathan, not letting him get close, and always ensuring that at least one gun was trained on Mrs. Hart. With the arrangements made, the male criminal looked at his blonde accomplice and gave his instructions.
"Watch her closely. Don't take your eyes off her. Wait for my call."
"I can handle her," the blonde answered back, a little sharply. "I mean, it's not as if she's dangerous."
"Just do as I say and watch her," the man retorted, staring at his accomplice angrily until the blonde nodded in agreement.
Ten minutes had passed since then. Jennifer and the blonde intruder were alone in the house, and Jennifer knew she had to act fast. She'd remembered reading about two similar robberies over the last couple of years, and Jennifer recalled with horror that in both cases the wealthy couples had later been found dead, with the police having no clues, aside from reports that the men had been millionaires and had made late-night withdrawals of several million dollars in cash and bonds.
In both cases the men had been accompanied by a second man in a tuxedo who said nothing and whom the personal bankers didn't recognize. Obviously this man was the man who'd just tied her up, and the wives must have been held hostage by his female accomplice, as Jennifer was now being held. Jennifer put two and two together about what would happen next. Judging from what she could remember from the media reports, the withdrawal would take place, the man would return, but would then shoot Jonathan and Jennifer before he and his female accomplice slipped away. She had to act. But how?
Meanwhile, Tina Steele was feeling pleased with herself. She and her boyfriend, a seasoned criminal, had pulled off two previous multi-million-dollar heists, and they'd laid low until the police hunts had wound down. They'd secured false identities, bought properties in Panama, and looked forward to a life of luxury at their already-purchased beachside villa, living off the interest from the stolen money that was already in a Panamanian bank account. Interest rates were high, the cost of living was low, and they were all set.
The 29-year-old blonde was an experienced fraudster and had joined a high-end hospitality and catering company as a secretary as part of the criminal enterprise. That's how she'd found out about suitable robbery targets and then added herself and her boyfriend to the guest list. They were due to leave for Panama for good in a few days, but Tina had seen the paperwork for the Harts' charity fundraiser, and the greedy blonde insisted they do one final job to top up their funds.
At 40 years old, the chestnut-haired Jennifer Hart was over ten years older than the blonde crook but was in good shape and just as attractive—if not more so. She led a healthy lifestyle, exercised regularly, and was fit and supple. But at the moment she was completely helpless. The man had tied her securely, and the blonde was armed. Jennifer noticed that the girl crook was going through various drawers, doubtless looking for cash and jewelry. It gave the resourceful and intelligent Mrs. Hart an idea. She addressed the tough-looking blonde, trying to keep her voice weak and trembling.
"I-I'm surprised you went to the bank," Jennifer said. "I-I assumed you'd come for the Heart diamond."
"What do you mean?" Tina replied sharply.
"We were loaned the world-famous Heart Diamond for this party," Jennifer continued. "Because of our names—Heart. Hart. You see? The auction company thought it would be good publicity, what with the upcoming sale. I was wearing it earlier, but once the photographer took the pictures and left, I had to put it back in the safe, as per the agreement."
Jennifer had Tina's attention now. The greedy blonde criminal was intrigued. "How much is it worth?" she snapped.
"I-I don't know," Jennifer replied. They think it'll sell for thirty-five or maybe forty million. I-I assumed it was what you were after."
"Where is it?" Tina snapped.
"In the safe, upstairs in our bedroom. I can show you."
"Oh no you don't, Mrs. Hart," the icy blonde replied. "You tell me exactly where it is and give me the combination."
"OK, OK," Jennifer replied. It's behind the painting of the horses and hounds. The combination is 19-79-84. But it's a little stiff. You have to jiggle the middle number a little.
Tina walked briskly out of the room and upstairs. There followed a lengthy delay, after which the blonde reappeared, looking frustrated and angry.
"I can't open it. It felt like it was coming open, but then it stuck."
"I told you it was temperamental," Jennifer replied. She stayed silent. She didn't want to overplay her hand and needed the suggestion to come from the blonde criminal.
"OK. I'll untie you, and you open it," Tina hissed.
Jennifer hid her elation well, but her plan was working. She'd given Tina the wrong combination—the last digit being just one number away from the correct one, which is why the safe had nearly opened.
Tina drew her small automatic pistol out of her purse and pointed it at Jennifer. "Don't try anything, you bitch," she snarled, "or I'll kill you."
With that, Tina placed her purse on the side and headed into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a pair of sharp kitchen scissors. She walked behind the chair where
Mrs. Hart was secured and slowly cut through the rope.
"OK, up," the blonde snapped.
Jennifer got up slowly, rubbed her sore wrists, and walked slowly towards the stairs.
"Don't try anything funny," Tina snarled, though in reality she wasn't worried about Jennifer, who she'd written off as a spoiled rich bitch who was just arm candy for her successful husband.
Jennifer walked slowly upstairs. She too was wearing expensive high-heeled shoes and, like Tina, was wearing a revealing cocktail dress, though hers was black—like her shoes.
Both women's hair was immaculately styled, and neither woman wore pantyhose, preferring to show off their tanned bare legs at the party. Tina stayed several steps behind Jennifer, aiming the gun squarely at her back, determined to stay calm, despite her rising excitement at the thought of attaining a prize that would make their previous thefts seem small by comparison.
Jennifer walked into the bedroom and saw the painting propped against the wall, the safe still locked. She approached it and put her hand on the combination lock. Thinking carefully, she deliberately failed to open it again.
"It—it's stuck," she said.
"Try again," the blonde snapped.
She repeated the move, with the same result.
"It's stuck, but it's so close," Jennifer said. "I can feel it opening but just sticking at the last second. I told you it does that."
Tina was getting increasingly frustrated and flustered, mindful of how close she was to an absolute fortune.
Jennifer tried again and this time put in the correct combination, the safe swinging open. She reached in and gripped a diamond necklace. It wasn't the Heart Diamond—she'd invented the story—but it was worth a few hundred thousand dollars, and she doubted the blonde criminal was an expert.
Eyes wide with greed and elation and with the relief causing her to breathe out heavily, Tina stepped forward.
"OK, turn around," she snapped. "Slowly."
Jennifer turned slowly, the diamond necklace in her hand. The two women were facing each other, a couple of feet apart. Tina kept the gun trained on Jennifer, but inevitably her eyes were drawn to the diamond, as she was paying more attention to the jewel than to Mrs. Hart. Now it was Tina's turn to stutter.
"G-give it to me," she said, her eyes flitting between Jennifer's face and the diamond necklace in Jennifer's hand. "Slowly."
Jennifer slowly reached out her hand, making sure it was shaking so as to keep up the pretense of fear. Tina slowly reached out with her own left hand, her right hand still holding the gun and keeping it trained on Jennifer. Jennifer moved to hand over the necklace and at the last moment dropped it. Tina gasped and reached out for it, taking her eye off Jennifer for a split second. It was all the feisty, chestnut-haired beauty needed. She thrust out her hand and gripped Tina's wrist firmly, simultaneously forcing her arm up.
Taken by surprise, Tina pulled the trigger, but the shot fired harmlessly above Jennifer and lodged in the ceiling, plaster flying down. She fired again, gasping with shock and rage, but with the same result. Tina tried to move her arm so that she could point her gun at Mrs. Hart, but Jennifer held her wrist in a vicelike grip, knowing she was literally fighting for her life.
"L-let go, you bitch," Tina yelled, furious at having been tricked and desperate to deal with Jennifer one way or another. They'd planned to kill the Harts anyway, so what did it matter quite how it unfolded? And if Tina shot her now, she'd also have acquired the diamond necklace, so she'd be in an even better situation than planned.
Emboldened by the thought, Tina strained with effort, and despite Jennifer's tight grip on her wrist, slowly managed to aim the gun at Jennifer again, her face a mask of hate. Again she pulled the trigger, only for Jennifer to twist her body at the last second, the bullet slamming into the wall, shattering the thermostat that was keeping the house cool on this hot, humid evening. Sparks flew, and the mechanism promptly went into heat mode, pumping out hot air as the two women struggled.
"Let go of my wrist, you bitch," Tina screamed. She was angry and beginning to panic. "I-I'll kill you."
Tina and Jennifer kicked at each other's ankles with their high-heeled shoes, each of them yelping with pain as blows landed.
With a sudden surge of effort, Jennifer twisted Tina's wrist savagely, causing the blonde crook to cry out in pain as she lost her grip on her gun. She bent down to pick it up, but Jennifer kicked the weapon with one of her high-heeled shoes, and it flew a few feet across the carpet, out of reach for the moment.
At that point, the women's bare legs tangled as they struggled unsteadily on their feet in their high heels, tripping them, bringing them both crashing to the floor. Neither was hurt badly by the fall because of the thick carpet, but with both women on the floor, the struggle took a different turn, as the two women rolled over and over, struggling for supremacy, their shapely bare legs tangled and kicking. Both women's expensive high-heeled shoes came off as they rolled over and over across the carpet, leaving them barefoot.
The fighting women gasped, groaned, and grunted with effort as they struggled and rolled, raking at each other with their nails and pulling and tearing at each other's flimsy cocktail dresses. The straps of the dresses were soon snapped or off the shoulder, and the garments themselves were ripped, torn, and finally pulled off altogether as the struggle continued and intensified.
Both women knew what was at stake: Jennifer had no doubt that the blonde crook would kill her if she got the chance, while Tina realized that if Jennifer prevailed, she'd be arrested and would spend the rest of her life in prison. The stakes could hardly be any higher.
By now, the struggle had lasted for around ten minutes, with both women desperate but evenly matched. As a result of the intense struggle, and because a bullet had caused the heat system to pump out hot air, raising the temperature to a virtually tropical level, both women were slick with perspiration as they rolled over and over, now clad only in their bras and panties. At times, this resulted in a struggle that looked like an out-of-control oil wrestling match, as the two women's bodies slipped and slid off of each other's as they struggled and rolled backwards and forwards across the thickly carpeted floor, locked together in a tight, sweaty tangle.
With a cry of rage, Tina managed to push Jennifer away and disentangle herself from the feisty, chestnut-haired Mrs. Hart. Gasping for breath, her eyes darted between the door and the gun, her expression a mix of frustration and indecision. After a few seconds she scrambled towards the discarded gun, but just as she got her hand to it, Jennifer pounced on her like a tigress. Both women now had a hand on the gun, but neither was able to get a firm grip on it as the struggle over the weapon intensified. Tina's face was a twisted mask of rage and hate, tinged with fear too, as she realized the feisty Mrs. Hart was no pushover. Jennifer's expression was one of grim determination, knowing her life—and probably Jonathan's too—was at stake.
After a few more minutes of scuffling for possession of the weapon, both women lost their grip on it and hurled themselves at each other, slapping and scratching. Bra straps were stretched and snapped, and soon both women were topless. Kneeling face-to-face on the carpeted floor, breathing heavily, they reached for each other's hair, pulling and tugging savagely, jerking each other's heads from side to side as they gasped with effort and yelped in pain. Their sweaty bare breasts ground and squashed together as they struggled, pressed close to each other, sweat pouring off their bodies.
The temperature in the bedroom had now climbed to over ninety degrees as a result of the bullet striking the thermostat. This and the length of the desperate but even struggle resulted in a stalemate where the two women were slipping and sliding off of each other as they grappled, neither able to get a grip on her sweat-soaked rival.
Again, Tina managed to push Jennifer away, and again Tina lunged for her gun, her fingertips brushing the weapon before she felt Jennifer's hands in her hair, pulling her back sharply just before her hand could close on the gun.
"Oh no you don't, blondie," Jennifer gasped as she dragged the screaming girl crook backwards, away from the gun, Tina sobbing with rage and frustration.
For a moment the two women faced each other on the floor, glaring at each other, but at that point Tina's nerve went, and she scrambled to her feet and headed for the door. Jennifer reacted instantly. There was no way she was going to let this murderous blonde get away, not least because Jonathan was still likely at the bank, withdrawing the cash and bonds, and if Tina called him, it could put Jonathan's life in immediate danger. With a determined cry, Jennifer scrambled after the fleeing blonde, rose to her feet, closed the gap, and then dove, tackling Tina down hard before she could reach the door. Tina yelled with shock and then pain as she was roughly tackled down by the feisty Mrs. Hart.
The struggle continued, but at a slower pace, both women sweaty and exhausted, hair and makeup ruined, both scratched and bruised from the savage struggle. Kneeling so they were facing each other again, they threw their arms around each other so they were in a mutual bearhug, again struggling breast to breast, before they toppled onto the floor and resumed a rolling struggle, first one woman on top and then the other, their sweaty bodies locked tightly together in a slippery tangle.
Tina was a hardened criminal who'd been in numerous catfights and she fought like an alley cat, spitting and biting as well as slapping, scratching, and pulling hair. The more refined Jennifer Hart tried to use her fitness and athleticism to hold off the desperate blonde criminal, though she slapped, scratched, and pulled hair just as intensely as Tina.
The life or death struggle continued. Hair was pulled, and slaps and scratches were exchanged as the two women rolled backwards and forwards, locked together, their slippery bodies pressed tight together, sweaty bare legs tangled as they rolled around the room. The furious, foul-mouthed blonde was hurling threats and abuse at Jennifer, whereas Mrs. Hart was silent, aside from the gasps, groans, and grunts of the titanic struggle.
Breaking free for a moment, Tina saw one of her high-heeled shoes on the floor, picked it up and hurled it at Jennifer's head with a scream of rage, Mrs. Hart only just managing to dodge in time. Seeing one of Jennifer's shoes within range, Tina scooped it up too, this time swinging it wildly at Jennifer as opposed to throwing it. Jennifer caught the blonde's wrist and twisted savagely.
"Drop it," Jennifer commanded, twisting Tina's wrist so hard that the blonde yelped in pain and lost her grip on the shoe, which fell to the carpet.
Both women rose unsteadily to their feet, facing each other, breathing deeply. Tina shoved Jennifer hard, and Mrs. Hart staggered back a few steps before losing her footing and falling backwards, finding herself on her shapely rump on the floor. With a cry of rage, Tina rushed forward and dived at her hated foe, arms outstretched, meaning to slam her body down onto Jennifer, knocking the breath out of her, prior to throttling the life out of her.
Flat on her back and seeing the hate-filled blonde about to dive onto her, with murder in her eyes, the supple and athletic Jennifer Hart kicked out and up with her shapely legs, placing her bare feet on the blonde's midriff, and simultaneously grabbing one of Tina's wrists. She rocked her body backwards and brought her legs up sharply. With a scream of shock and panic, Tina found herself catapulted over Jennifer before landing hard on the carpet, flat on her back. While the plush carpet was soft, Tina landed with such force that there was an audible thud, the blonde gasping in pain as the air was driven from her lungs.
Seeing Tina dazed and half out of it, Jennifer crawled towards the supine blonde and scrambled astride her. The desperate blonde crook panicked, having had the tables turned on her when she thought she was seconds from victory, but even as Jennifer scrambled astride her, the murderous blonde saw a chance to snatch victory and end the fight in her favor. By a piece of luck, she'd landed alongside her gun, which was just inches from her hand. Despite being pinned under Jennifer, the small automatic pistol was in reach, and Tina got her hand to it, raising her arm, aiming it towards Jennifer, her body shaking with rage, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Jennifer saw the danger at the last second and acted instinctively. Her arm shot out and she grabbed Tina's wrist, slamming the blonde's arm down onto the carpet, above her head, just as the murderous blonde fired again. At the same time, with Tina bucking and kicking, desperate to dislodge Mrs. Hart, Jennifer slid forward so that instead of straddling the blonde's stomach, she was sitting astride her chest, her knees pinning the blonde's arms. With a scream of rage, Tina tried to raise the gun, twisting it in her hand so she could aim it up at Mrs. Hart, despite her wrist being pinned. But Jennifer tightened her grip on Tina's wrist and slid even further forward—so far forward that her perspiration-soaked panties were pressed down over Tina's nose and mouth. The blonde cried out in rage and panic, screaming abuse at Mrs. Hart, but with Jennifer's panties pressing down hard and tight over her mouth, her words came out as a muffled and indistinguishable series of sounds.
"MMMPPH - MM - MM - MMPPHHHHHH."
Tina's legs kicked furiously, and she writhed and struggled under Mrs. Hart, bucking and kicking wildly, desperate to throw off her hated foe. But with Jennifer's panties clamped tightly over her nose and mouth, the already hot and exhausted blonde crook was finding it more and more difficult to breathe.
Tina cried out in a mix of rage, frustration, fear, and panic, but again, only a few muffled sounds came out.
"MM-MMPH. MMPH. MMPH."
Jennifer was taking no chances and continued to grind down hard, keeping a tight hold on Tina's wrist, keeping the blonde murderess firmly and tightly straddled and pinned under her perspiration-soaked body.
Flat on her back, Tina's struggles grew steadily weaker and weaker, as did her muffled cries.
"Mmph. Mmph."
Finally, her emotions a mix of panic, fear, and humiliation, the blonde slipped into unconsciousness and lay still.
Wary of any tricks, Jennifer maintained her position astride the blonde's limp body for a few more seconds before sliding back a few inches. Tina was out cold, her eyes rolled back. Her chest rose and fell slowly, but she was deeply unconscious. Jennifer took the gun from her limp hand and threw it aside, steadying herself to avoid passing out herself, as she was physically and mentally exhausted from the life or death struggle. She sat astride the unconscious blonde for a few more moments, pinning Tina's wrists hard and tight in her hands as a precaution, even though the defeated blonde was out cold and unresisting.
Composing herself, Jennifer got off the supine blonde, rolled her over onto her front, picked up Tina's bra, and pulled the unresisting blonde's arms behind her back, wrapping the bra around her wrists and tying it tightly. She then scooped up her own bra and wrapped it around the blonde's ankles, tying it tight, a look of grim satisfaction on her face.
Sweaty, exhausted, but triumphant, Jennifer quickly called the police chief—a personal friend—and explained the situation. Officers were duly sent to the bank, where they pounced on the male crook before he could even draw his weapon. The cops assured the concerned Mr. Hart that his wife was fine, adding that his rescue had only been possible because Jennifer had outwitted and overpowered the woman who'd been holding her hostage.
Jennifer splashed a little water on her face and drank a few sips before taking a very brief shower, brushing her hair, putting on a short satin nightdress, and slipping on a pair of high-heeled slippers. Despite her ordeal, she looked stunning. Ten minutes later, multiple police officers arrived at the Hart residence and were let in by Jennifer Hart. She still bore some marks of the desperate struggle but was glowing with triumph, relieved that her actions had saved the lives of both herself and her husband.
Upstairs, Tina was still out cold. One cop cut the bras off her wrists and ankles, then knelt by her side and raised her into a sitting position, one arm around her shoulder. Tina's eyes flickered, and a low moaning sound came out of her mouth. Another cop came over with two glasses of water. He threw the first in Tina's face, which brought the blonde crook round, spluttering but still half out of it. He then held the second glass to Tina's lips and waited until the blonde took a few sips, blinking her eyes rapidly, desperately trying to focus, slowly coming around.
Having been out cold for several minutes and having been totally exhausted by the lengthy struggle in a baking hot room, Tina was unaware of what had happened for several more minutes, her body sore and unresponsive. Then slowly, she began to remember flashes of what had happened: forcing Jennifer Hart to the safe, seeing the diamond necklace, but then being disarmed by the older woman and overpowered. Her eyes were wide in shock at her situation, and she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as the enormity of the situation slowly dawned on her, as she finally regained consciousness and realized it was all over for her.
Another cop came over, grabbing Tina's upper arm in one hand and hauling the groggy blonde roughly to her feet. He'd worked the previous two kidnapping and murder cases, and the cops now knew this blonde had her hand in at least four murders—a figure that would have been six had Jennifer Hart not saved the day.
"OK, you, up," the cop commanded forcefully as he roughly dragged Tina to her feet, having to hold her up to prevent her from falling, as her legs were like Jell-O.
"Arms behind your back," the cop snapped, pulling them back forcefully himself before Tina could react.
He cuffed Tina roughly, the cold metal snapping tightly around her wrists, and then read the sobbing blonde her rights before leading her out of the room and down the stairs. Tina was still half out of it, and the cop was having to hold her up as he frogmarched her towards the front door.
Scratched, bruised, sweaty, disheveled, and barefoot, Tina was sobbing her heart out with a mix of rage, humiliation, and shame, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized she'd be facing a life sentence in prison, her dream of a millionaire lifestyle gone forever. As she was frogmarched towards the police car, she caught Jennifer Hart's eye, as the feisty, chestnut-haired beauty stood outside, talking to one of the cops.
Like Tina, Jennifer was scratched, bruised, and disheveled. But she'd had time to freshen herself up and throw on a skimpy nightdress, so while the evidence of the struggle was there, she looked radiant and on top of the world—as well she might, having saved her life and the life of her husband. She was glowing with pride, and as the sobbing blonde was led past her, Jennifer caught Tina's eye and stared her down—her facial expression a mix of triumph and contempt for the defeated blonde.
After having caught Jennifer's eye, Tina looked down in shame, the unbearable agony of defeat burning into her. She and her partner had been on the verge of getting away with the perfect crime, a life of beaches, expensive restaurants, caviar and fine Champagne ahead of them. But it was all over because of her greed and stupidity, but most of all, because of Jennifer Hart.
Tina had all the advantages: Jennifer was tied up, and Tina had a gun. But the glamorous older woman had outsmarted her and tricked her before disarming her. Even then, Tina had been certain she'd triumph, having written Mrs. Hart off as a pampered, spoiled rich bitch who'd be easy to defeat. But she'd found herself overpowered and defeated in the most humiliating way possible: flat on her back, straddled and pinned by Mrs. Hart, defeated with a facesit pin that led to her losing consciousness and passing out for over ten minutes, during which time Jennifer Hart had tied her up.
The feel and smell of Jennifer Hart's perspiration-soaked panties pressing down over her mouth was something Tina would never forget, and she'd be forever haunted by her defeat at the hands of the glamorous and feisty Mrs. Hart, a defeat that Tina knew had condemned her to a life sentence in a brutal women's prison.
Clad in just her panties, her sweaty body feeling clammy on the plastic seat of the police car, the blonde murderess was driven away to her fate, arms behind her back, wrists cuffed. She was crying hysterically, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking with sobs of rage and humiliation, having been utterly defeated by the better woman.
