The Passive Peeper

by Gordon Whirlpool

The two girls lived in a comfortable one-story bungalow in a quiet part of the city. June was a glamorous looking dark- haired girl who was a featured dancer in one of the city’s best nightspots. Her specialty was an exotic number that showed off her 5’7′, 130 pound body to perfection. She moved with a grace and fluidity that belied her above-average size. Susan was a beautiful blonde who modeled lingerie for a large department store. She was 5’5″ and 118 pounds, and boasted an enticing figure.

While both girls were used to having men admire their figures, and indeed enjoyed it, they were getting concerned about the peeping tom. They had first noticed him peering in through the rear door one night about three weeks ago. Their first reaction was to scream, but they had remained silent, hoping he would go away. He had left after a few minutes, but had been coming back, and for increasing periods of time. He could no longer be ignored.

June and Susan now sat in the living room and pondered what to do. “He’s getting on my nerves,” Susan said in a low voice so the peeping tom could not hear her, “and I’m sure he’s the one that’s stolen all those panties of mine off of the clothesline out back.”

“Yes, and I’ve lost several pairs of nylons to him,” June said.

“Apparently he’s going to keep on bothering us unless we do something.”

“But what?” Susan asked. June paused before answering. “I don’t think it will do much good to call the police. We don’t even know his name. I think it would be best to take matters in our own hands. Suppose we could lure him into the house on some pretext, pin him down, maybe take off some of his clothes so he can’t escape, and then work him over until he’s so scared and embarrassed he won’t think of bothering us again.”

“Sounds okay,” Susan agreed, “but how do we do that? After all, he’s bigger than either of us, and we might get hurt trying something like that.” June shifted her position on the couch, showing a good flash of nylon as she did so, muttering, “might as well show our visitor something to keep him occupied while we plot his downfall, “then continued, “I think if we work together we can handle him. I’m big and strong enough to give most men a good tussle, and if I have to get dirty I can be murder on a man in the clinches–as some of the wolves in this town have found out the hard way. And I know you’re stronger than you look, and know a little about handling a man. Remember that creep in the movie lobby? He’s probably still hurting from that knee you rammed into his stomach.”

“I still don’t know, June. I don’t think we can take him on a straight-away, even together, “Susan said. “Well, let’s use a little strategy, and some feminine weapons,” June said.

“I’ve been thinking about a plan since last time he was here. First, to lure him in here, I think we have to make it seem like there’s only one of us around. He probably would be too uneasy with both of us. Now, suppose you pretend to leave on an errand. I’ll toss some curves his way to get him really hooked, then “accidently”‘ discover him without letting on I knew he was out there peeping. Once I get him inside, I’ll turn on the charm and get him in a necking session. I’ll start unloss- ening his clothes until he discovers what I’m up to, then call for help. you come out from where you’ve been hiding, and we’ll get him down, sit on him, and take off his clothes. That should slow him down. Then we can tie him up and work him over.”
After listening to June’s plan, Susan still had some doubts. June argued, “the sooner we do something, the better. He’s been harmless, if creepy, but who knows when he might decide to get a little more aggressive, when one of us is alone. Besides,” she grinned, “I’m itching to get my hands on him. It might be fun to teach him a lesson.”

Susan finally agreed, and prepared to “leave” the house to inaugurate the plan. “So long, I’ll be back in a few hours,” she called out, loud enough for the man to hear from the rear of the house, as she picked up her purse and strode towards the front door.
“Good night, Susan, I’ll do a few chores around here before going to bed,” June answered. She took a long. leisurely stretch on the couch, knowing it provided a good show for her prey. After languishing a few more minutes on the couch, she arose and began to clean up the room, picking up magazines and straightening furniture. She knew the stooping and bending would be appreciated by him. She pretended dissatisfaction with the position of the couch, and gave it a few tugs, but could not move it to where she wanted. She sighed, then strode rapidly toward the back door, apparently to get something from the rear of the house. She saw the face disappear quickly, and knew he was fleeing. But she reached the back door and flipped on the switch to light up the backyard a few seconds later, and as she stepped through the door she pre-tended to notice him for the first time. He had had time only to get several strides away from the house.

“Well, thank you, Jim. It was very kind of you. Now perhaps I can repay you with a kiss. She moved close to him as he stood before the couch. Before he could say anything, she put her arms around him and gave him a long, vigorous kiss. Her hands roamed over his body, and she ascertained that he was not particularly muscular. Just average.
As June let out a little “oh” he stopped in confusion, realized that he was close enough to be recognized and that his nocturnal peeping might be spoiled because of it. He turned and faced her, trying to regain his composure, and said, “Hello, I was just cutting through your back lawn to save some steps on the way home. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

She ended the kiss, and grasped his shoulders. “Mm, that was delicious,” she said. “Shall we try some more?” Without waiting for a reply, she embraced him again, only this time she leaned her full weight against him, and made him stumble backwards onto the couch, her body atop his.

“That’s okay,” June said breezily, “anytime.” She was sizing him up and saw a light-haired r man, probably in his mid- twenties, of about average size. He was smiling at her. but his whole demeanor was one of deceitfulness. She disliked him more than ever.

Jim was thoroughly mystified by her aggressiveness. Never had such a beautiful, desirable woman thrown herself at him with such abandon, and he wondered what had possessed her. His first thought was that it might be related to his peeping activities, yet the girl had given no sign of doubt when he had explained his presence in the backyard. What, then?

“Say, if you’re not in too much of a hurry, could I borrow your muscles for a few minutes?” she quickly asked. “I want to move a couch, and can’t by myself. I was going to get a crowbar or something from the garage, but I’m sure you’ll do a better job.” She accompanied her request with a dazzling smile, one few men could resist.

He had little time to think about the reasons, for June was forcing his attention elsewhere. He tongue was exploring his mouth, and her hands were roaming over his body again. She could feel his initial stiffness and uncertainty melt under her expert ministrations. He was apparently, and understandably, beginning to enjoy it. His arms went about her, and began to explore her body. She overcame her feeling of disgust at having him handle her this way by thinking how short his pleasure would be.

“Uh, well, I just…” he stammered, but June cut in with, “Ah, it will only take a minute.Please,” she coaxed. “Okay,” he agreed, “if you’re really in need of help.” He followed her into the house, and in a few minutes had the couch where she wanted it. “Why, thank you very much,” she said. “Say, I don’t even know your name.” “Jim, Jim Weston,” he replied.

As soon as she felt that his hands were busy on her and that his attention was fixed thoroughly on the pleasure of the moment, June started to work. She kept one arm about him while she sneaked one hand down to his waist to undo the clasp on his trousers and ease his zipper open.

Now the more difficult task of working his trousers over his hips. To accomplish this, she began to move and toss about, ostensibly to add variety to the necking. This made Jim move too, and every time he raised a hip she gave a slight tug on that side of his trousers. But by the time she had his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs he noticed what she was doing. “Hey, what are you up to?” he yelled, pushing her off him and grabbing at his pants. June knew her curves no longer were effective, but feeling confident of a victory she grabbed at his trousers and said angrily, “Just a little reverse panty raid, Mister. You like to steal our clothes so we’re about to steal yours. Come on, Susan, let’s get him.”

Horrified, Jim struck out angrily at her and clipped her chin, tumbling her off the couch and onto the floor. The blow hurt, and June knew he would not hesitate to hit either girl, hard, to prevent his capture. “Quick, Susan,” she cried as he hurriedly arose, pulled up his pants and fastened the clasp.

Susan rushed from the bedroom, where she had been hiding, and jumped Jim from behind, throwing one arm around his neck and grabbing his hair with the other hand. He started throwing elbows violently. One caught Susan in the stomach, and she sagged to the floor. Temporarily free, Jim started running to the back door, and freedom. But June, still on her back from his shove, stuck out a foot and tripped him, sending him sprawling on his stomach. Both Jim and June scrambled to their feet, and raced each other to the door. Jim reached it first, but as he turned the knob June stopped him by grabbing the top of his trousers in the middle of his back with both hands.

“Whoa,” she said. “You’re not going to get away now.”

To his amazement, Jim could not pull her after him. He could not believe this lovely creature was strong enough to hold him. He was further amazed when she planted one foot against the side of the doorframe, and began straightening her leg. He was pulled away from the door, and he heard the clasp of his trousers break from the tension. He reached down to redo it, and June took advantage of this to reach down and grab both of his cuffs. She, jerked up, and his feet flew out from under him. He tumbled to the floor, rolling onto his back before he could stop his momentum. June crouched over him like a tiger, and noticed that her last tug had pulled his trousers down halfway on his thighs. With a gleam in her eye, she slammed a high heel to the floor in the space between his crotch and the top of his trousers, then knelt to place one knee on his stomach as she tried to wiggle her leg through the opening between his thighs so that he could not pull his trousers up. Jim tried to rise, but June caught his chin with the heel of her hand and jolted his head back. He was knocked flat on his back, and his head rang as it struck the floor hard. This took the fight out of him for a few seconds, and a look of panic spread across his face as he now realized that he was going to lose the battle.This lovely, exotic creature atop him, whose name he did not know but whom he had admired and watched secretly for weeks now, seemed determined not to let him get away. She was a strong, efficient, deadly foe. Jim grabbed at her, but she merely flung his arms away. She was now smiling at his frustrations as she continued to wiggle her leg over the top of his trousers until her knee rested firmly on the floor.

As she shifted position so that she sat with her full weight bearing down on his hips and thighs, she laughed, “Now, you sneak, we have you where we want you. Let’s see how much fight you have without your pants.”

Jim tried to toss his devilish creature off, but she was so firmly seated that he could hardly budge her, and she pinched and tickled him until he gave up and ceased struggling for a moment. By this time Susan had regained her breath and was eager to get even with Jim. She now stood over his head and June said to her, “Good girl, back to the battle. I’ve got him under control. You sit on him up there and I’ll remove his pants.

“Only glad to,” Susan said.

Looking up, Jim saw another girl with fire in her eye. She wasn’t as big as the vixen pinning his hips, but she seemed as determined. With a cry of delight she said, “I have just the way to do it, June. Since he likes my panties so much, I’ll give him a first-hand view of the pair I have on.”

She hitched up her skirt and with a rustle of silk and nylon, began to sit down on his face. Jim started to yell, and raised his hands to ward her off, but she grabbed his wrists and sat hard on his face. His protests were cut off and his vision blocked as he was squashed by a pair of silk panties and surrounded by a jungle of nylons, skirts, and negligee. He could hardly move, or breathe, and Susan added to his discomfort by bouncing up and down a few times.

“Beautiful, beautiful,” June said.

“How appropriate.”

Jim could feel her shift her position and start to remove his trousers. He bucked desperately, but got nowhere. Nearly 250 pounds of shapely but surprisingly strong womanhood was seated strategically atop him, and he didn’t have a chance. The girl on his head was of only average size, but she knew how to pinch and claw and pull at his hands and fingers so that he could not get a good hold of her. And every place he did grab seemed to be covered by slippery nylon or fragile undergarments that frustrated him further. The girl on his hips knew exactly how to use her weight to prevent him from kicking.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Jim stuttered. “You’re both so attractive, I just couldn’t help watching. And I was afraid you’d turn me down if I asked you for a date.”

The two were now laughing and teasing him about his plight, and this angered him more. How he wished he could do something, but he was as helpless as a baby. Neither looked as strong as they had turned out to be, and it seemed they had muscles they had saved just for him.

Damn them both–the exotic one for being so irresistable and luring him into the house and being so strong and efficient in battling him, and the blonde for knowing how well she could hold him down by sitting on his head.

“You’re right there,” June responded. “Neither of us can stand creeps. But why steal our nylons and panties?”

Jim was really sweating as he answered, “I just considered you had the best pair of legs I’d ever seen, and she had such a beautiful figure I wanted something to remind me of them.”

June now had his trousers at his ankles, and pulled them off his feet after removing his shoes and socks.

“To the victors belong the spoils!” she shouted as she held his trousers aloft triumphantly.

“Three cheers for us!” Susan added.

They then teamed up to remove his shirt. His pleas were so fervent, and appeared so sincere, that both girls started to soften. As he continued to beg, the looked at each other and decided that perhaps they had taught him enough of a lesson. Much as she would like to continue, June thought, he had in his perverse way paid them a compliment.

He was now wearing only his shorts and Jim felt June grasp the top of them. With a wink she asked Susan, “Shall we remove these, too?”

Susan answered shyly, “Let’s let him keep them awhile. Maybe later we’ll find it necessary to take them off. She then rose from her seat on his face.

“Okay, you can go, if you promise not to bother us again,” she said as she arose from him, “but don’t ever let us see or catch you around here again.”

Jim let out a double sigh of relief, but June quickly moved up to straddle his chest. She was not laughing now.

As Susan gathered up his clothes, June said firmly, “Now, Mr. Weston, let’s have some explanations as to why you’ve been peeping on us and stealing our clothes.”

He looked exceedingly embarrassed, but when he did not reply for several seconds June grabbed his shorts and said menacingly, “Talk!”

Jim got up slowly, gathered up his clothes in his arms, and then walked to the rear door. He paused there, turned, and the fury that had built inside him as the girls had taken him down and taken off his clothes exploded as he said, “You can be sure I’ll never be around here again, you devils.”

Then, as the girls listened in amazement, he started calling them names that brought blushes to their faces.

“How disgusting,” said Susan, who had, unnoticed by Jim, locked the doors so he couldn’t run out.

“I agree,” said June, “now what to do with this–thing?” Their amazement turned to fury, and they started walking towards him.

He grabbed the doorknob and said, “You’ll never catch me. I know my way through the backyard, even in the dark.”

He pulled the knob, but nothing happened. He pulled again, and it still did not budge. Frantically, he jerked as the girls closed in.

“Don’t bother, buster, it’s locked,” June said. “Now you’ll really get what you deserve.”

Jim realized why she was so strong. Her attire of a brief, sexy bra and panties revealed a flat, firm stomach, strong muscles along her thighs, and a well-built pair of shoulders. She was as solid as a rock, and incredibly curved.

He whirled to find two grinning girls. He dashed between them for the front door, but found it locked, too.

He turned, and found himself being stalked like jungle prey by two tigers in high heels. He dropped his clothes, and started moving frantically so they could not corner him.

“Susan,” she said, “get a pair of nylons out of the dresser. Since he likes mine so much, I’ll use a pair to tie him up.”

Jim eyed Susan as she went to the dresser and wailed, “Tie me up? What are you going to do?”

The girls were enjoying tracking him down, and gave directions to each other as they methodically reduced the room in which he could maneuver. A chair was pulled out of the way so he could not dodge behind it, a piece of furniture was shoved to plug another avenue of escape.

June said confidently, “I’m going to take you down and tie and gag you so you won’t be able to move a muscle. Then we’ll decide what to do next.”

She was confident he was so confused and scared that she could handle him fairly easily now. They backed him into one corner of the living room, and he looked desperately for a route of escape.

“What’s the matter,” June cooed, “afraid of a couple of girls? Why you’re bigger than either of us.”

As he backed away from her, she mocked, “Afraid of even one girl, big boy?”

He tried to break by her, but she grabbed a hand, sat back on the nearby bed, braced one foot against the bedboard at the foot of the bed, and began pulling.

Jim saw a door, and hoping it led to the outside, opened it and dashed through. A peal of laughter arose from both girls, and too late he realized he had entered one of the girls’ bedrooms.

They chased him inside, then June shut the door, locked it and said, “Now I’ve got you in my room. And you’ll wish you never saw it before I’m through.”

Jim saw the muscles along her leg bulge as she straightened her leg. Though he tried to pull away, her leg was too strong for him, and he felt himself being pulled steadily towards her.

“C’mon to bed with me,” June taunted, “there are a few things I want to try with you.”

Seeking any excuse out he could, he said, “That’s not fair, two against one. You wouldn’t be so brave alone.”

With one big, final push of her leg she tumbled him into bed beside her. Before he could recover, she was all over him. She pinched him cruelly in the ribs, jerked his hair hard, twisted an ear lobe, then smashed a knee into his stomach to double him over. She pushed him onto his stomach and jumped astraddle his back, then snaked an arm around his neck and applied a tight stranglehold. He tried to roll her off, but she rode him expertly. She squeezed hard for several seconds, and when she let go his head bobbed limply.

June replied, “We’re not interested in being fair to you. Only in fixing your little red wagon, and your vile tongue. But if you insist, I’m very happy to take you on–alone.”

She began unzipping her dress, and as she stepped out of it, “Give me a nylon,” she ordered Susan, and while Jim tried to regain his breath she turned around and sat on the back of his legs as she deftly would a nylon around his ankles and tied a knot. His legs were now immobilized.

“Now, let’s tie those arms behind his back,” she said as she again straddled his back. She reached for his hands, but in desperation he clutched them together under his body. June only laughed at this futile move and said, “That won’t stop me.”

She reached under, grabbed one of his little fingers and began to bend it back.

“You bitch!” Jim cried as pain shot through his entire arm.

Her bending made him release his hold, and June dragged his arm from under him and twisted it behind his back. She took the other nylon from Susan and wrapped it around his wrist, then moved a knee up to pin his wrist against his back. Then she reached under and extracted his other arm by the same grip on the little finger, pulled it behind his back, and knotted the wrists together.

Jim started to sob at being so manhandled and June said, “Why, our big man is crying like a baby. And I’ve hardly started. I think we must wash out his mouth with soap for those names he called us, Susan.”

Susan replied, “You bet, I’ll get the soap.”

By the time she returned with a bar of soap June had rolled Jim onto his back and was kneeling at the back of his head, facing him, a knee at each side of his head.

She took the soap and ordered, “Open up.” But jim clamped his mouth shut.

“That’s no trouble either.” June said as she clamped his nostrils shut with one hand.

As his supply of air faded Jim shook his head violently, but her knees restricted his movement. He was finally forced to gulp for air, and June shoved the bar of soap in. He tried to spit it out, but she held a hand over his mouth. The soap taste filled his mouth, and made him choke and gasp violently as the girls laughed. It seemed like an hour before June removed her hand and he could run to the bathroom and spit out the soap. They even held a glass of water for him to rinse out his mouth and bubbles came once again. But his trial was not over yet, for June then jammed a pair of rubber falsies into his mouth and secured it there by a bright red silk scarf which she knotted behind his head. Now he was both bound and gagged with the type of feminine articles that he coveted so secretly. June and Susan gazed down in triumphant satisfaction at their helpless, miserable victim.

“Lovely job, don’t you think?” Susan asked. We can be quite proud of it,” June replied.

“Our peeping tom has been caught, captured, hogtied, and branded. Say, maybe we should make a permanent record of this–just in case he bothers us again. Get your camera.”

Now Susan returned with her camera and flash unit. Jim tried to roll off the bed, to escape this final humiliation, but June took a firm grip on his two ears and twisted him back onto the pillow as one bulldogs a steer. Then she plumped her firm and shapely buttocks clad in their lacy black panties fully on his chest, adding to his discomfort in having his nylon-bound arms beneath the weight of his body by putting her own full weight on it. She raised her clenched fists up and outward in the traditional pose of the victor, causing her lovely, full breasts to jut out over her foaming, gagged prey like a canopy.

“Smile for the camera, you helpless, woman-whipped sissy,” she said turning her head for a pose.

“We’ll make several copies of these, Jim Weston, and keep them handy to post on your com- pany bulletin board or publish in the plant newspaper if you ever bother us once we release you or don’t do exactly as we say. There’s a lot of information about you in your wallet iden- tification cards.”

Gagged as he was, all that the poor man could do was register an expression of fear and shake his head “No” to let them know how completely he was at their mercy. Now Susan picked up the quirt she used with her riding outfit, donned her riding boots over sleek black nylons, and interesting touch to her costume of black satin lingerie trimmed with lace and her elbow-length black kid gloves.

“Kneel before me, slave, in silent, begging adoration,” she commanded and Jim lowered himself to his knees on the hard floor while June photographed him in this humbled position before his beautiful captor. She deliberately tickled his nose with the quirt, ordering him not to sneeze. When the inevitable sneeze came, she applied the quirt to his backside, vigorously, a half-dozen times.

“Hey, that’s for horses,” June grinned. “Well, put on your boots and we’ll both wear spurs and ride him across this rough carpet–let’s say all the way around the room three times,” Susan said.

She used a piece of chalk to draw a special course for Jim to crawl. “You understand, Weston-slave, you’re to go this route three times and, by the third, we expect you to have erased this chalk mark.” Now June was ready and Susan put on her rowelled spurs and the two of them released Jim’s arms and legs. The combined weight of the two girls on the gagged man was a cruel burden that called for his strength to remain, upright, yet Jim knew that the girls would show him absolutely no mercy if he failed to complete their ride. Straining under the weight of the beautiful, squirming load, he labored around the room, goaded to still greater effort and speed by Susan tugging on his hair and ears and using the scarf in his mouth as a bit as she “accidentally” dug her spurs into his tender flesh to keep, she explained, from losing her balance. June made her contribution to his painful, torture-wracked progress by lashing at his unprotected rump with the whip and threatening his tenderest areas with her spurs. It was a panting, sore-muscled, pained, and rueful man who finally collapsed on the floor after the ride.

“Why, Jim Weston,” Susan said severely, “imagine your resting like that after it was we who took that exhausting ride! First you must take off our boots for us.”

Wearily he dragged himself to his feet and backed toward the girls one at a time, catching a boot in between his legs (raised high by the girl “to be helpful”) and then hung on to the boot while she kicked him in the rump, often quite forcefully, to help him get the boot off.

“Come on, Jim, lie on the bed and rest,” June said with phoney tenderness. “You poor, little, worn-out, thing; you’ve been through a lot haven’t you?”

His eyes brimming with his own self-pity, the gagged man fell face down across the bed. Thereupon, June tied his wrists behind his back once again and said, “Come on, Susan, I want a pose with you sitting on his neck so that his head comes out between those gorgeous legs of yours.” Then she laid down on the floor for the best angle and took this newest shot of their victim.

“Maybe by now Mr. Weston would like to apologize to us,” Susan suggested. She took the gag off. Dry-mouthed and rueful, the sore-muscled, exhausted man could only lie there gasping.

“Oh come now, Jim Weston,” Susan teased. “Maybe you just don’t quite know how to phrase it. Here, say it this way.”

And then she said and compelled him to repeat: “I, Jim Weston, am a weak, cowardly, sissy-slave captured by and the possession of June and Susan. I pledge to permit them to do anything they wish to me and I promise to carry out their orders, whatever they may be.”

He balked briefly at making this last statement, but June caught his face firmly in her strong hand, put lipstick on his mouth with a lavish touch and warned him that, unless he wanted to be sent out on the streets in full makeup, he’d better not hesitate with anything else Susan ordered him to repeat. He was forced to continue: “I love wearing lipstick and I am a contemptible, snooping, thieving swine who de-serves the most vile punishment you two girls can impose on me. I apologize to you and am grateful to you for the things you have done to me and anything you deign to do to me in the future.”

“That’s great, Susan,” June chortled. “I caught it all on tape and we’ll edit out your part.”

“Please, girls, you’ll not send that to anyone I know,” the suffering man begged.

“Why, of course not, Jim,” Susan said, “We’ll just play it on the phone to your boss.” Then she took the tape and the films outside and locked them in the trunk of her car.

The sweating, desperate man said, “Look, I meant that, even though you said it, I’ll do anything, but let’s keep this just between us.”

Thus the girls had a panty-clad slave laundering their lingerie, then putting on one of June’s silk robes as he went outside, terrified of being detected, and hung it on the line. They made him wear a taffeta apron and clean up their apartment, being severely critical of the slightest bit of dust in the place. He shined their riding boots and polished their spurs, shined their shoes and made their beds. Then the girls locked him in the guest closet for the night tossing in their old clothes they had set aside for rummage as his only bedding and protection against the cold. At five-thirty in the morning, they shut off the alarm and let the sleepy, sore-muscled and stiff man out of the closet.

“You’ll find your clothes outside, hanging on the line, Jim,” Susan said. “All but your shorts. We’re putting them on the back of our shade as a souvenir of this little visit. But you can keep that pair of June’s old panties you’re wearing.”

“Thank you” Jim said in a cracked voice. The fear in his eyes seemed a permanent thing.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve at last learned good manners,” June said, her eyes twinkling.

“I’ve learned a lot,” Jim said, forcing a wry grin.

“Mainly, I hope,” June added, “that you’re our slave from now on. Whenever your phone rings, it may be one of us with some preposterous, embarrassing thing we may be ordering you to do, maybe drop your pants right then, or pretend to faint, or suddenly go out and walk quickly around the block backwards. We may order you to carry lipstick and put it on in the most embarrassing of situations or to take off your shirt and tie and coat and put them on again backwards. You’ll never know, Jim Weston, when you’re going to get your next command.”

“You’ve had us living a life of terror for a long time now, uncertain when the peeping tom would show up again or strike or steal something of ours or maybe hurt us. Now you can know a little of what it’s like.”

“I’ll try to do whatever you say,” he said, cringing.

“Good,” Susan cut in.

“Now go outside and get your things on. Then stick this pair of nylons we had you all bound with in your pocket so that the tops and feet show fully and prominently. We want everyone you pass to notice them. And don’t put them all the way into your pocket until you get home.”

Scarlet with embarrassment, the man in the panties with the lipsticks mouth went into the yard and got dressed. He was careful to arrange the nylons as they had ordered in his breast pocket and walked away. The dangling nylons seemed a flag of victory to the girls, and they grinned with pride as their victim slouched home with his tail between his legs or his nylons hanging, as it were.

THE END