The Veronica Kingston stories all involve mild bondage and tickling scenarios. The central character is a female private detective in the film noir era of the 1940s. Characters and plots are heavily influenced by movies of the period. It might be useful to say that I pictured the character as looking like a late forties Susan Hayward complete with feodora and trouser suit to give her a classy 40s 'detective' look.
The name is Veronica Kingston and I’m one of a rare breed of female private detectives in the neon-lit jungle that is NYC in the late forties. I suppose you’re curious about me? Well I’m a slim athletic brunette with wavy dark brown hair that comes to rest on my shoulders. My green eyes look out of a sultry face that reminds people of Susan Hayward. I temper my attractions with male styled pant suits which hide the colt pistol in my shoulder holster and the knife strapped around my ankle. Male clients can still get fresh but I pretty soon change their records. I can break fingers as well as hearts. If someone needs a flashlight shone into the darker corners of the human condition they can come to me!
On a drab Monday morning Mrs Rebecca Van Rubens walked into the office. She was raven haired with hard brown eyes and a husband she was trying to shake off like a bad cold. She was playing a game of cat and mouse with Mr Van Rubens. He wanted some money to pay off his gambling debts and was determined to squeeze her for the cash. She was hiding out in a hotel hoping that his creditors would drop him in a river before he found her. But she eventually lost her nerve and decided she needed help.
I got up and walked around the table. Mrs Van Rubens was seated in one of the office chairs. She was classically beautiful like a Greek statue in high heels.
‘Aside from the gambling is there anything else you particularly dislike about your husband?’
‘He drinks heavily and takes advantage of me. I know I am his wife but.... I don’t mind telling you I’m scared of him. He...he...’ she spluttered in a trembling voice.
‘Ok don’t worry about conjugating any verbs. I get the picture. What do want me to do?'
'I want you to take the high ground Miss Kingston. I want to find a way to threaten him and make him leave me alone.' she pleaded.
'He hasn't actually broken any laws as far as I can see.'
That's why I came to you!' she said looking me intently in the eye.
I knew that she was leading up to a scenario that could put me in harm’s way so I helped her spell it out.
'What you need is something to make him break cover and try something stupid that will land him on the wrong side of the law?'
‘I couldn't have put it better myself.' she said with a smile of relief that I wasn’t making her work too hard.
‘You need some bait that he might snap at and give you something to report to the cops. Perhaps you were thinking of me as said 'bait', Mrs Van Rubens?'
‘You read my mind Miss Kingston. It could be dangerous for 'the bait' as you put it - but I will pay you well.’
The 'pay you well' part sealed the deal and I swallowed my reservations. I had done similar jobs before and there were precautions I could put in place.
'OK I will hire a bodyguard to watch my back, Now I want to start by contacting any friends and business associates who might tip him off. Anybody who is likely to warn him.’
‘I'll make a list. We can meet at my hotel room at 4pm. Here is the address.’ She concluded the interview by handed me a printed card.
Later that day I picked up her list and a healthy amount of cash to cover my expenses. I spent the next three days making myself known among Van Rubens’s circle of acquaintances hoping at least one would tell him I was on his case. I had hired another detective to shadow me and bail me out of any trouble if our cookie decided to play rough. He was a tough reliable Irishman called Murphy who had punched his way around the boxing circuit before he got wise. I hated walking around feeling I was between crosshairs but I felt better with Murphy as a guard dog.
A couple of days later I walked out of the office and noticed a guy waiting at the corner of the block. I signalled to Murphy and started walking round a pre-arranged route. After a few streets the same guy was still tailing me. I turned into a quiet alley and decided to engage the enemy.
‘Is that Mr Van Rubens? How are you doing?’ I asked him. He was a big guy who kept in the shadows.
'Just fine, lady. So you are the detective my wife hired. You made it pretty easy to find you after telling your life story to all my friends?'
The bait was taken so now all I had to do was reel in the fish.
‘What’s the problem between you and your wife?’
‘Are you a marriage guidance counsellor as well as a private detective?’ His laughter had a disarming charm for a louse and I felt myself smile back.
‘I just wanted to hear your side.’
‘Oh you’ll hear my side. We are going to have a nice long talk.’ He walked towards me and I backed off down the alley into the dark.
'I don't think so.' I said feigning alarm in my voice.
'I do and so does the gun I'm pointing at you. Let’s go back to your office and we'll take your car.' Now I had him just where I wanted him! He had handed me a kidnapping rap that would stand up in court. I walked out of the alley with Van Rubens holding a gun on me under his raincoat. At this point I was expecting Murphy to come out swinging but my partner was nowhere in sight. I glanced around with a feeling of foreboding rising up from the pit of my stomach and I suddenly felt alone and vulnerable. What the hell had gone wrong?
We drove to a house in a quiet residential district. Once out of the car I thought about trying to make a run for it but my abductor kept his gun in the small of my back. Down in the basement he ran his hands over my suit jacket and trousers and removed my weapons. Then I was manhandled into a heavy wooden chair and tied up with curtain cords. My hands were bound behind the back and my knees and ankles firmly tied. Coils of rope were repeatedly wound around me and laced through the slats to hold me securely in the chair. He checked that the knots were tight and turned to face me.
‘Now I want to know where my wife is. I want to get her exactly where I’ve got you and then I will let you go.’
‘No deals. I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I sing every time some guy decides to get mean!’ I hoped I sounded braver than I felt.
‘I’m not offering a deal you are just going to talk.’ he replied drily.
I rocked the chair from side to side and eased my limbs around. There was no slack in the ropes and it would be a struggle to get loose from all the manila he'd used.
'You don't believe in taking chances do you? Looks like you've really got me all tied up.'
‘Then don’t waste your strength. I used to be in the Navy. Atlantic convoys!' he added with a touch of pride.
‘Sure I bet you are a real war hero.’ He didn't like the sarcasm one little bit and strutted about looking agitated. My remark had clearly got under his skin but so far he had politely refrained from slapping me around. Eventually he stopped pacing the floor and looked me over. 'You are pretty easy on the eye lady. Sort of like Susan Hayward!'
'Why don't we just forget about all this and go for a drink then?' I quipped. He laughed but quickly forced himself back into the villain routine. That was it! I realised that he just wasn't the type. He was acting like the tough guy in too many lousy movies. And he was a very handsome man that most women wouldn't have given up on lightly. He jabbed his finger at me as he resumed the interrogation.
‘Look you are going to tell me sooner or later. I don’t really want to hurt you but if I have to I can make things rough for you.’
‘Sorry sailor but I’m not telling you where she is.’ I studied my captor as I called his bluff and hoped I was reading him right.
‘I’m warning you it is later than you think lady!’
I remained silent as it dawned him that the George Raft routine wasn’t playing so well. He angrily clenched his fists and I stiffened with alarm. Maybe I was wrong and about to take a beating after all?
His expression softened as he saw that he now had me worried.
‘No! No! I’m not going to hurt you.' I was glad that he had talked himself out of kicking my teeth in!
'But I am going to make you talk!’ he insisted as he advanced towards me. I tried to shuffle the chair away from him but I could only move a few painful inches at a time.
He pulled up a chair and grabbed hold of my legs. Holding them firmly in his lap he slowly removed my shoes. My feet were enclosed in seductive warm black nylons. He breathed deeply as he ran his hands over them. His grip was strong and he firmly massaged me for a few moments. Just as my guard slipped and I began to relax he dug his fingers into my soles and savagely tickled my feet!
‘Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!’ I shrieked and then began to giggle. He kept tickling my arches causing me to squirm about in the chair.
‘Stop that! Hahahaha! You don’t seriously ...Hahaha!... expect this to get you anywhere! Hahaha!’ I howled.
'I can tickle real good lady. Are you going to talk?'
My feet are intensely ticklish and the firm rapid movement of his fingers over my tender skin was an agony to endure! I pulled the chair from side to side trying to escape but it was too heavy to topple.
‘Ahhhh! Ahhhh!’ I screamed as the relentless attack kept up for a good twenty minutes. Then his hands began to explore the tops of my toes. He carefully stroked each of them slowly with a single finger.
‘Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhh!’ I groaned loudly as I felt my eyeballs involuntarily roll upward into my skull. My muscles were straining hard across the ropes but the bonds remained tight keeping me pressed down into the heavy chair. I violently rocked myself backwards and forwards to loosen his grip.
‘Let me go! Stop! Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhh!' My voice echoed in the empty shadows of my dungeon. There was no one to rescue me and I knew I had to hang on and take the punishment.
‘Please stop! Hahaha! No! No! Hahahaha!’ I let out a loud scream as his fingers went back to the sensitive arches of my feet. It was an unbearable ordeal and I felt my resistance begin to crumple. I kept coming up for air between spasms of helpless laughter and wondered if he would keep this up all night! After two hours I was exhausted and clearly at the limit of my endurance. Any confession would now sound completely convincing.
‘Please stop! Stop!’ I sobbed ‘Ok I’ll talk! I'm not been paid enough for this. I’ll tell you where she is!’
Van Rubens stopped tickling my feet and I slumped into the chair to watch him relish his moment of triumph.
‘She is in room 202 at the Bell Hotel on 34th and Broadway.’
After he wrote down the address he grabbed some more rope and tied a length up and over the ankle bindings. Then he pulled my legs under the chair and tied the loose end around the wrist ropes. Satisfied that I couldn't move he left for the hotel. The address I’d given him was a police trap. The receptionist would immediately ring for the cops if anyone asked about that room. I kept myself amused by tugging at the cords around my wrists but they were clinched tight. After an hour Van Rubens returned empty-handed. My eyes opened wide with fear when I saw him walk down the stairs. Now he would torture me without mercy until I gave him what he wanted!
He punched his right fist into the palm of his left hand and I waited for the beating to start.
‘She wasn’t at the hotel. She checked out earlier today. Maybe she didn't trust you to hold out when she heard you were grabbed.'
My mind started to work overtime. He couldn’t have been to the hotel!
‘Strange that she knew you had me. I didn't send her a telegram!'
Before he could think up an answer to my question Mrs Van Rubens walked into the basement wielding a gun.
‘My God Rebecca!’ he yelled. Then she squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out and the bullet buried itself in the wall. In panic Van Rubens ran past her and disappeared up the stairs. It was a melodrama that Warners couldn’t have staged better. I gave Rebecca my wide eyed frightened look and acted all relieved.
'Miss Kingston. How dreadful! Are you alright?' she said in a sympathetic voice as she looked me over. Then suspicion started to darken her face and she stood with her arms folded in front of her.
'You don't seem too much the worse for wear?' She sounded disappointed.
‘Thanks for the rescue. How about cutting me loose?' I pleaded as suddenly she turned on her heels and made for the foot of the stairs.
'Get back in here Lew' she angrily yelled. My former captor sheepishly re-entered the room.
'What happened? I told you to beat the hell out of her to make it look good. There isn't a mark on her!' she snarled.
The games were over so I dropped any further pretence.
'Don't blame your boyfriend! When Murphy didn't show I suspected you were a phony. You were the only person that knew I was being tailed by another private eye.'
I eased myself around in the ropes since no-one was untying me and continued to unravel the mystery just like a dame detective in a ten cent pulp.
'This is how it looks. I think that your husband is already dead. You killed him and staged all this to provide yourself with some sort of cocked eyed alibi. You got your boyfriend to pretend to be your husband so he kidnaps and tortures me to give up your hideaway. You pretend to turn the tables and follow him back here where you take a shot forcing him to bolt. You have me to back up your story so everybody assumes your husband is on the run and there are no questions asked about his disappearance.'
'That is really very perceptive, Miss Kingston. Problem is my plan involves you going fifteen rounds with your hands tied so my husband has a real good reason to make himself scarce.'
She exploded with rage and shouted into my face.
‘Oh I must have taken up with a real imbecile! He couldn't bring himself to beat you to a pulp. All heart and no brains! Well we can still pull this off if you don't come out of it alive. Lew start working her over and don't stop while she's still breathing.'
I looked anxiously at Lew and hoped that his innate decency wouldn’t desert him in a clinch.
'Hey Lew, we could still go for that drink?' I said hoping my doleful peepers still worked their magic. Lew started toward me but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from mine. Being a pretty girl tied to a chair holds certain advantages.
‘I can't do that Rebecca.’ said Lew as he turned to his lover.
‘She knows everything!’ yelled Mrs Rubens.
‘We can risk leaving her tied up and just clear out of the country. We have enough money to start up somewhere else.'
Rebecca reluctantly lowered the gun.
'Damn it all. Just make sure she can't get loose.'
'Can't you do your own dirty work Rebecca?' I responded sarcastically.
'I think its time you kept quiet.'
She pulled out a scarf and shoved it in my mouth then pulled it tight behind my neck. Lew checked that the knots were completely secure but when he tested the rope binding my wrists he quietly slipped me my knife.
Half an hour later I had cut myself free and took time to straighten up my suit as I thought about my next move. As I drove my car back to the office I thought about phoning the police but Lew had saved my life. I would have to incriminate him if I pressed charges against Rebecca. In the event I just checked on Murphy who was nursing a lump on the back of his thick skull. I went home to my apartment and thought about Lew with the black widow and wondered how long the romance would last. I snuggled up in bed wearing a pair of loose fitting blue satin pajamas. In my imagination the handsome Lew mercilessly tickled my feet while I was held bound and helpless. I smiled and gently thought to myself 'another time, another place' before I fell into a deep sleep.
More Veronica Kingston stories can be found at :
https://www.deviantart.com/vad321
