The Pussycat Gang

By Kev Pickering

"I’m Miss Panther, and you may have heard of us, the newspapers call us the Pussycat Gang."

A phrase that has struck terror into the hearts of bank managers, jewelers and others over the last few years. The Pussycat Gang - six women, always masked, always elegantly dressed, and the most violent, deadliest and ruthless gang in New York and the Eastern Seaboard. Leaving behind bodies wherever they strike, they work by taking over the homes of those they wish to rob, and terrorizing them into submission.

Behind the stockings, the guns and the mayhem, however, lie six women united by friendship and loyalty, hiding in plain sight, living their lives in the higher ranks of New York Society. So what drove them to become the Pussycats - Miss Panther, Miss Leopard, Miss Puma, Miss Cheetah, Miss Lynx and Miss Tigress? And who is Miss Bobcat?

The Pussycat Gang - pray you never meet them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781326042172

Book preview

The Pussycat Gang

The Pussycat Gang

By Kev Pickering and Jennifer Jay

Copyright (C) 2014 Kev Pickering and Jennifer Jay

All rights reserved

ISBN: 978-1-326-04217-2

This work is licensed under the Creative Communities Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.  To view a copy of this license, visit

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.5/

or send a letter to

Creative Commons

171 Second Street, Suite 300

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http://www.kppresents.com

Origin of the Species

The story of the Pussycat Gang really begins with my co-author – it was her who contacted me one day, with an idea for a story of a ruthless gang of female criminals, and their exploits.  She provided the names, background and ideas, and asked if I would form them into a story.

Now, for those who have read my work before, I’m not exactly known as an out and out crime writer, but the idea intrigued me, so I said I would give it a go.  One idea led to another, and then another, and then – well, the rest of this book is a partial testament to the way the stories were received.

I should also state that, with a few exceptions, no resemblance to any person living or dead, or any resemblance to any real life incident, is intended.  Those exceptions are hopefully obvious, and I personally hope they are not out of character. 

This is a very different style for me, so if it is not exactly your cup of tea – well, I always said I like to keep a varied and well stocked catalogue of stories, and this fills a niche there.  As you will see, however, they do provide a counterpoint to other characters – and for one group in particular, it is the start of a journey.

A journey that will continue in The Walrus and the Pussycats – but that, as they say, is a story for another day.  Until then, enjoy.

Kev Pickering.

I have to thank Kev for giving me a chance to explain why the Pussycat Gang came into being. I could write you a whole complicated explanation, but it might be better just to list some names and say thank you to Trudy, Amanda, Karen, Bev, and Julie, because they are in their own ways just as responsible for the Pussycats as I am.

Imagine a group of teenage girls sitting round a television set watching crime shows and talking…you get the picture? Boys, other girls, parents, hot teachers, we talked those subjects to death. One subject always intrigued us though but which we never could resolve was the role of girls/women as the bad guys on TV and in movies.

The Pussycats come from those discussions. They have the qualities and faults that our little group thought a gang of female criminals should have. So they have real lives, albeit upper class New York lives, but hey for girls at a famous Massachusetts boarding school like ours, that was real life. They would work in the fields we hoped to go into one day, fashion, design, teaching, journalism, etc. They would do lunch, go to parties, juggle nannies, kids, the school run, and the thousand other things we knew our moms and friends did…oh and just like us some would be lesbian, or bi-sexual.

So give it 20 years almost for those ideas to marinate in my brain, add in a husband, kids, and a breakdown, add curiosity about what others have written about the female criminal and you get to my discovering Kev’s stories. They intrigued me, they interested me, his characters had appeal, and I became a fan. One day I plucked up the courage to ask him if he could maybe do something with my ideas and characters. The result has become this book you are reading. I cannot thank Kev enough because alone I could never have written this, but the discipline of working together and his taking my scraps of writing and making them into a whole story has actually worked.

Love them, hate them, I just hope the Pussycats draw some emotion from you. As I’ve said many times the one thing I can never accept is neutrality. They are bad, evil, nasty, violent, but I also hope understandable damaged human beings.

So with thanks to those I’ve already mentioned, you know who you are in the stories, but in particular thanks to D who is the real life inspiration for Heather and whose suffering and strength is an inspiration to the world, can I hope you enjoy this book.

Jennifer Jay

The Pussycat Gang

Thursday 23rd May

1 pm, the Richmond Mansion on Upper Fifth Avenue, New York.

Heather Smith was a pretty rather than a beautiful girl. About 5 6 in her stocking feet, she had been the nanny to the Richmond children for nearly 18 months. She tossed her short, chic, blonde hair as she heard the doorbell ring. The job wasn’t precisely what she had dreamed of while she was majoring in art history at Yale, but the pay was good, and the family was wonderful, and she couldn’t say she was unhappy. The job even had turned out to have some unexpected fringe benefits.

Her employer Ms Alexandra, or as she preferred to be called, Sandy Richmond was a busy interior decorator, with a flourishing practice, and a full social calendar. It hadn’t taken long for Heather to discover life was never dull in the Richmond household. Her charges were bright and inquisitive and her employer caring and generous. All in all life really could be a lot worse.

At the third ring, Heather answered the door, and a rather distinguished looking man in a banker’s suit and camel overcoat stepped inside.

Hello Heather – is Sandy here?

Heather stood to one side and allowed the tall man to walk in.  She’s just talking to a client, she said as she closed the door behind her, I’ll tell her you’re…

DADDY!!

Hey there, he said as a nine year old boy and eight year old girl ran up and embraced him.  All ready to spend the weekend at my place?

Of course we are – are we going to go to the zoo tomorrow?

If you want, he said as a woman came to the hallway.  She was dressed in a cashmere sweater and long slacks, her auburn hair held back by a black scarf.

As she always had, her glorious good looks took his breath away. There was a reason why she had been the New York debutante of the year, she exuded sophisticated beauty, he had been so lucky to catch her, and well then…he had been rather stupid. It had cost him both his wife and his marriage. He’d probably regret it to his dying day.

Hello Sandy, he said as Heather fetched two bags, and took them to give them to her employer’s ex-husband’s driver waiting by the car outside, You look well.

Thank you George, so do you, Alexandra Richmond said as she allowed her ex a polite peck on her cheeks. Turning she hugged and kissed her children.  How is Allison? she asked backwards over her shoulder as she fussed over a chocolate spot on her daughter’s cheek.

She’s fine, she started a new job this week.

Well give her my best wishes, she said.  It wasn’t sincere - Allison as far as Sandy was concerned was a conniving bitch, but she tried to keep things pleasant and civilised in front of the children. Now, be nice for your father, do your homework, and I will see you on Sunday, all right?

Yes, Mom, they chorused as they took his hands and walked out with him. 

Thank goodness for mandatory state holidays, Heather said as she and Sandy waved the car off.

Anyway we have other things to do, Sandy reminded Heather politely. Are you all set to go?

Oh Lords, and I certainly can’t be late can I? Heather smiled a sly grin at her employer.

Indeed – you had better get going.  Juliette will be expecting you.

True, Heather said as she pulled a leather jacket over her white blouse, and stepped out, See you later.

Be safe, Sandy gave the nanny a long lingering kiss full on the lips. Be careful my lover.

Oh yes that was one of the unexpected fringe benefits of Heather’s job.

2.30 pm – Conde Nast publishers, corner of Lexington and E47th, New York

All done? Anna Mitchell the Fashion Editor of Complete Style magazine called out as she entered her friend’s office.

Juliette Huntingdown looked up from her laptop and closed it, her long red nails caressing the machine.  Finished and filed, she said as she looked at her editor, and I have to get going.   Time and tide wait for no daughter.

Oh yeah – weekend in Vegas.  Have fun – and don’t gamble too much.

I never gamble – this is Britney she wants to see, Juliette said as she stood up, and adjusted the shawl hanging over her left shoulder.  I will see you on Monday.

Anna grinned inwardly, of course Juliette never gambled. It wouldn’t have suited her at all, gambling would be putting something to chance, and for all the years she had known her she had never known her to take to a single risk. Juliette was always cool, calm, collected, seemingly never under any pressure. How she managed to be a single mother of a teenager, an award winning fashion writer, but still keep a very discreet private life amazed Anna. Anna was on her third husband and beginning to discover that booze maybe made a better love, she chain smoked incessantly. How many times had she asked herself what she was doing wrong and Juliette was doing right?

Juliette stood up, her full 5’ 10" showing that she had retained much of her model figure despite the rigours of childbirth, picked up her bag, slipped the laptop in, and walked out, the heels of her Jimmy Choo shoes clicking on the floor as she approached the lift.  Descending to the underground car park, she soon found her Mercedes and slipped behind the wheel, driving smoothly off towards Grand Central station.

The mid town traffic was a bitch – so what else was new?  Ass she headed up Fifth Avenue, however, she was as usual precisely on time.

As she pulled up outside, Heather opened the passenger door and headed in.  Perfect timing, Juliette said as she drove off, Let’s hit the road.

3.30 pm – East 87th Street, outside St Angela’s Academy for Young Ladies

The girls were pouring out of the ornate double gates, chatting and laughing in their uniforms.  All wore an open necked white blouse, grey sleeveless sweater, a knee length pleated red tartan skirt, a red jacket, white socks and black shoes.

The two girls waiting for their lift outside the school made an unusual pair.  Carina Huntingdown was 5’3" tall, curvy with a figure and face that even at the age of 16 had half the men in New York falling for her at a single glance.  Her blonde hair framed a pleasant face, with a pair of wire rimmed glasses accentuating her blue eyes.

By contrast, Abigail de Ros was tall at 5’10", pencil thin, and forced by her mother to not wear makeup, a bit like an unattractive Stork.  She was the shyer of the pair by a mile.

That they were best friends was in itself a surprise, the popular junior Carina, and Abby the ungainly 14 year old freshman, but Abby had known Carina since she was a baby and Carina had always been like her big sister, including her in all of her doings, and sticking up for her.

They had always known each other secrets, but nowadays Abby, or Stick as she was known to so many of her fellow students at St Angela’s Academy, knew a dark secret about her best friend Carina – one that she would not even have dreamed possible 18 months ago. To all the other Angels, as St Angela’s girls called themselves, Carina was the near perfect young lady, sporty, good at academics, popular with staff and students, the Perfect Angel as she had once been described. As the other girls waved and said their byes only Abigail knew that behind Carina’s veneer lay a cold blooded and sadistic murderess who enjoyed torturing then killing her victims.

Some boys leaning out of a car drove by making disgusting comments at the Angels. Abby called out do you kiss your mothers with those mouths assholes? as she flipped them off. The guys drove away to a barrage of other ribald yells and gestures from the Angels. Inwardly Abby blamed the TV series ‘Gossip Girl’ everyone had such a screwed idea from that show how New York private school girls really were.

Kennedy Fratton waved as she climbed into her Uncle’s Mercedes. Kennedy was certainly a lot nicer since her parent’s death. Previously she had been the school bully and had made Abby’s life hell her first few months at St Angela’s with her taunts about Abigail being flat chested, and her little jokes aimed at humiliating Abby.

Now she was a kinder person, ever since her parent’s horrific murders during the robbery of their high-end jewellery store. Abby smiled a secret little smile thinking back to the anguished cries of Kennedy’s mother as Carina held burning matches to her nipples, burning her, encouraging her to tell her husband to open the safe. Abby felt a particular joy that she had ended the life of her tormentor’s mother with a bullet in the back of her head, after the safe had been opened - somehow it seemed fair turnabout for the abuse the bitch of a daughter had given her.

Carina had absorbed fully her mother’s philosophy of crime. It was Juliette’s view that a bad woman had to be at least twice as ruthless as a man to be taken seriously, twice as prepared to use violence, and twice as prepared to kill. Well certainly that description matched Carina. On a job she was pure viciousness. Abby thought on some of the scenes she had been witness to.

Abigail had thought often and hard on a certain question. Had she and Carina been born sadists or had circumstances made them both so? Her sociology teacher called it Nature versus Nurture, were we born as we are, or do we learn behaviours. Abby knew that she found it sexually pleasurable torturing and killing; she had orgasmed while she did it, and she masturbated to fantasies of it.

She could feel that familiar damp feeling between her legs as she day dreamed…

Abigail!  Carina!

Abigail was shaken from her dreams back to the present.

The two girls picked up their bags and walked quickly to the Jaguar parked at the kerb.  Standing by the car was Abby’s mother, Diana de Ros, her arms folded as she tapped her toe in impatience.  Technically she was the Countess de Ros, but who in New York used such silly titles? Her husband had, but he had been a complete snob right up until his unfortunate death in a car accident in the French Alps – an accident that had left Diana and her daughter very well off.

She was blonde haired, and dressed in a Versace black pant suit, a silk scarf tied round her neck and tucked into the jacket.  She looked every inch the French beauty she was in her youth – the only daughter of a French nobleman, she had been taught alongside her four brothers to hunt, and to shoot to kill.  A skill she had put to good use with a sniper’s rifle, taking revenge on her cheating husband.

Sorry Mama, Abigail said as they placed their bags in the trunk of the car, and then climbed in the back, We did not see you there.

Indeed?  All set for a weekend in Connecticut? Well, buckle in – we have to try to get to the Freeway before the traffic gets too bad, Diana said as she started the engine and the car moved smoothly off.

5 pm – The Farmhouse

The Mercedes drove up the quiet road and stopped, Heather getting out and opening the large barn doors to allow Juliette to drive in.  Once inside, she waited for her partner to come out, and closed the doors.

The farmhouse was the perfect hideout. Isolated at the end of a dead end street, no one came there; most people didn’t know it even existed.   Apart from the large white main building, there were a number of large barns and a vast grazing area, surrounded by woods. 

Diana’s husband had bought it years before with vague plans to renovate and maybe use it as a weekend retreat, but beyond some routine maintenance nothing had ever got done before his death. So here it lay, deep in the woods of Southern Connecticut - a hidden place that was the perfect headquarters for the gang’s activities.

We’d better hurry and change, Juliette said as she looked at her watch, or we’ll be late.

The two women walked to the front door of the farmhouse, Juliette fishing out a set of keys before they went in.

7.30 pm

Tommy the Fish had got his name working the fishing boats, but he had found his vocation in dealing with clients who wished to buy guns…discreetly.  He was in his late fifties, dressed casually, didn’t look out of place, and drove a nice modest Ford Magnum.   He was still nervous, however, checking his mirrors again before turning.

Tommy didn’t like being out of New York City, but for these particular clients he was prepared to travel. The old abandoned barn on Long Island was out of the way; he’d driven past the road leading up to it three times before he’d found it. He hoped to God he wasn’t late, as he knew to his cost that you didn’t worry these people.

The Fish was connected, he’d been doing business with the families for years, but the mob had never scared him in the way these clients did. The mafia killed you it was business. These bitches enjoyed doing it. He’d read in the papers some of the things they’d done, it chilled his bones. That jeweller and his wife they’d tortured them for a couple of hours or more. That wasn’t normal, even in the Fish’s world. That bank manager in Connecticut they’d killed his whole family, right down to his little girl.

Brrrrrr, the Fish let out an involuntary sound, these bitches was just plain evil.

The broken and gnarly index finger on his right hand suddenly started throbbing. It bore witness to the brutality of these women. The Fish shivered as he remembered. She’d used a pair of nutcrackers to break it several times, working up and down the finger while the other bitch held him down.

Honest to God he hadn’t been trying to follow them, it was a coincidence he was on the road going the same direction at the same time, but that hadn’t mattered to them. He’d been punished for his indiscretions and he knew from the papers that worse awaited him if he ever really crossed them up.

He drove in the open barn and the doors swung closed behind him. Slowly Tommy got out of his van. As usual there were two of them. She Bitches as Tommy thought of them. As usual they were dressed to kill, pray God not literally the Fish thought to himself.

Both women were wearing tailored blue jackets and knee length skirts, dark stockings and black leather shoes with four-inch heels.  They also wore black gloves, and stockings covered their heads, their black hair held down by the stretched nylon. He’d speculated what they looked like really, without the distortion from the stocking, but that was way back, he wasn’t interested who they were, it was healthier not knowing.

Each always wore a silk scarf.  The taller of the two had a Hermes scarf with a horse pattern, tied at her throat by a clasp that was shaped like a panther crouching, the two diamond eyes looking at him as the ends were tucked into her jacket.

The smaller woman wore her scarf like a cravat, the front of the black silk tucked into her jacket, the ends down her back.  On the lapel of her jacket was a brooch in gold and black, with blue sapphire eyes in the cat’s face. It looked like a cheetah.

Got what we asked for Tommy? the slightly taller one asked. She’d been the bitch with the nutcrackers.

Yeah, I got it, the Fish mumbled out his reply. These women truly scared him and he wanted out of there as soon as possible.  He opened the back doors of his van and waited.

I do hope these are clean Tommy, the slightly shorter one said in her modulated, slow, and calm way. I’d hate for us to have to become dissatisfied customers because these have some nasty history that could be used against us. Tommy had thought at one time these women had spoken in honed tones, now he knew better, it was pure acid.

No Ma’am, the Fish almost genuflected, they are totally clean, I got them in from a supplier in California who bought them legit.

Did you do as we asked? the taller woman asked in what sounded like a polite tone, but which the Fish knew to be a veiled threat.

Yes Ma’am, the Fish quickly replied, all serial numbers removed, all the ammo you asked for is there…. everything’s good.

For a moment he stood there shifting from foot as he waited for an answer, watching the smaller woman as she looked in the back of the van.

Good, the shorter woman interrupted the silence. Your money is in the trunk, pick it up when you put our things in there please.  Tommy breathed a sigh of relief as he removed the two canvas bags from his van, and walked to a waiting Ford Galaxy, the two women watching him the whole time.   He removed the briefcase inside, closed the trunk and walked back.

Do you not wish to check the payment? the taller woman said.

No Ma’am – I know your word is good, Tommy said, his finger itching as he did so.  Placing the case in his cab, he got in and drove off, the doors to the barn opening and closing behind him. He felt himself shaking, those bitches were pure poison, the minimum amount of time he had to spend with them was too long.

Okay he’s gone, Heather moved away from the crack in the door she’d been observing The Fish through, Cooley, calmly she pulled the nylon off of her head, shaking her head as it came off. You know he virtually crapped his pants?

I noticed, Juliette smiled an evil little grin as she took her mask off. Anyone would think we’d hurt him at sometime!

8.30 pm

Sandy Richmond gunned her Maserati along the shady Connecticut lanes, she was late and she knew if there was one thing that Juliette demanded when the gang was on a job it was totally perfect timing and discipline.

Normally she’d have driven up I 95 from the city to get to Connecticut, but she had more than enough speeding tickets gathered on that particular road, and with the cargo she was carrying country roads seemed the best alternative.

Slow down, she told herself aloud, you can’t get pulled over by a cop for speeding.   Mentally she shook herself, remembering the cargo of guns she was carrying in the trunk. Guns she would have a hard time explaining to a cop. For a moment a little thought crossed her mind, Is there a good way to explain a sawn-off shotgun to a cop?

No she shook herself again, slow down Alexandra.  As much as she loved driving fast she had too much to lose. Slowly she brought the Maserati’s speed down till it was under the limit. 

George coming to pick up the kids had upset her more than she was willing to let on. When she thought of him and the bimbo her heart literally boiled, that he’d left her for that creature wasn’t just hurtful, it was insulting. Still she told herself, channel the rage, channel the anger. She grinned to herself; someone would pay a price for how she felt at that moment.

She kept driving, before turning up a quiet road and through a tree lined avenue, eventually arriving at the farmhouse.

Abigail was walking across the yard when she saw Sandy drive up.  Moving quickly, she opened the barn doors, waiting as Sandy stopped, turned off the engine and collected her bag, before closing the doors again behind her.

Sorry I’m late, she panted.

You’re not – you’re right on time.  Juliette and Heather should be back in 30 minutes, so we’re cooking dinner.

Hello Sandy, Diana said as the two women walked in, and she embraced her friend, Safe drive.

Yeah – had to keep myself in check though.  What’s cooking?

Chicken stew and dumplings.  Good French provincial food. We need a good meal tonight – lot to do tomorrow.

Yeah, Sandy said as another car pulled up. 

That’s them, Abby said as a horn sounded, and she went out.

Tell your Mother I have the sawn-offs, Sandy shouted after Carina’s back as they headed out the door.

After the meal, the six of them sat round the table, going over the plans as Juliette told them the arrangements.

Sounds good, Carina said with a yawn, So we spilt up tomorrow?

We split up tomorrow – be back here by four.

Friday 24th May

10 am, Pop’s Coffee Shop, Lewis Street, Greenwich, Connecticut

I hate these mandatory school days, the grey haired waitress said to her colleague, They all want to hang around here.  She looked again at the group of ten high school students, and shook her head before walking to the booth.

Want refills, she said to the two girls sitting there.  They were both wearing sweatshirts, denim shorts over leggings and runners, and were looking intently at a laptop. Two more kids she thought silently, and these two aren’t even local, still at least they have some manners.  Perhaps they were waiting for their mothers to go to Lululemon Athletics?

Yeah, thanks please – and two more slices of pie, Carina said as she handed the plates back to the waitress.  She then looked at the brown haired girl who was talking to the boys, her white t-shirt cut low to show off her developing chest, and her skirt a little too short.

Right little cockteaser, isn’t she, she whispered to Abigail, who simply nodded in reply. She’d be cute if she didn’t try so hard and obviously to turn guys on.

Have a look at her Facebook page, she said as she indicated the screen to Carina.  A beaming picture of the girl appeared under the name Megan Markham, and as she scrolled down and looked at the posts made, Carina let out a low whistle.

She really does lead them on, doesn’t she, Carina said as she looked back over.

Yeah, I’m going to enjoy taking care of her tonight, Abby said, and Carina could see the light of evil in her eyes.

Question, Abby said as she looked closely at the page, says here she goes to Greenwich High.  Bit downmarket for her isn’t it?

Want to look at her permanent record, Carina said as she typed some more, and brought up the file.  As she read it, she said, Oh my – she does seem to have a problem controlling her desires in front of the teachers.  Seems she’s been expelled or barred from almost...

Here you go.

Just as suddenly, Abigail smiled and said thank you to the waitress, watching as the group got out and left.  Do we follow them, Carina said as she looked at her friend.

No – we know where to find her, Abigail said as she brought up a project for them to work on.

Outside the Greenwich branch of the Bank of Long Island Sound, Sandy watched as the middle aged couple talked.  He was in his late forties, balding and dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and blue tie.  The woman was of a similar age, wearing a short sleeved yellow dress with white trim and a white belt, with white heels.

They kissed and walked in different directions, the man back into the bank, the woman to a nearby hairdresser.  How nice, Sandy thought to herself, A hairdo to make the evening special…

The gang always spent the day before the job making last minute checks, ensuring that nothing had changed, there were no strangers around, and that all was it had been when they cased the job. Any differences they’d pack up and go home. Armed robbery was a dangerous occupation, but getting caught was far worse. So safety first was always the motto.

Once again Sandy gave thanks for Juliette’s incredible skills in research and planning. Risks were cut to a minimum, no chances taken. Everything was planned to the second. Truly it was crime made easy, all she and the others really need do was just follow Juliette’s orders.

Sandy had driven the routes they’d be using twice, once last night, the other this morning. All clear, no work being done on the roads, no obvious hold ups, all should run very smoothly.

Anyway all looked like it always had at the bank, nothing strange, no added security. Sandy glanced at her watch; she had time for a quick Cappuccino before her next appointment.

Setting off from W Elm Street, she turned down Greenwich Avenue, past the fashion stores and boutiques, and then turned left into Bruce Place.  She smiled as she drove past the Police compound – if only they knew...

12 pm - Ridgeway Shopping Centre, Stamford, Connecticut

The shopping mall in Stamford was the perfect place to go shopping for a couple of nice anonymous SUV’s. Stamford was perfect, wealthy residents, low crime rate; women dashing to the stores were careless.  Juliette, Heather, and Diana sat in Diana’s weather beaten old Ford Explorer watching. They felt secure, they felt safe, each was wearing a good wig, and clothes that made them blend in with the crowds of suburban housewives outside the Toys’R’Us store.

They were unobserved, but they were observing everything, watching the comings and goings round them.

Ooh, perfect, suddenly Heather cooed, lady just pulled up in that black Lincoln MKX even left her keys in her ignition for me. Slowly she climbed out, I’ll see you ladies later at the farmhouse, she mouthed quietly as she pulled a pair of black leather gloves on. Quickly she walked the 20 yards to the black car, opening the door and slipping inside. Less than a minute after it had been parked the black Lincoln had been stolen.

Okay we need another, Juliette remarked to Diana, any other possibilities?

The two women continued to scan the parking lot, until Diana said There.  She pointed to a dark blue GMC Envoy.  The woman getting out was clearly harassed, as she almost pulled two young girls out and walked off, the driver door slightly ajar.

Doesn’t deserve it, Juliette said as she slipped out, pulling her gloves on as she walked over.  Two minutes later she too was driving off, as Diana waited for her to disappear over the horizon before moving herself.

6 pm, the Farmhouse.

Diana checked and re-checked the shotguns, pistols and ammunition, as Abigail and Carina packed neatly coiled ropes, rolls of tape and other items into holdalls.

Sandy had spent the afternoon working on the cars. After her hard work she’d deserved the shower she had just taken. Having Heather come in and soap her body all over had been a delightful bonus. Still she mentally told herself to concentrate, the cars were clean, no obvious mechanical flaws, and she’d switched to the new license plates. New York plates were common enough in Connecticut and the cops were a little less likely to look at out of state vehicles.

Quick early supper, Heather said as she brought in bowls of hot soup, hunks of bread and cheese.  Diana packed the last of the weapons away, and sat at the table with the others.

Abigail, will you say Grace, Juliette said as they held hands.  Abby nodded, and as the others closed their eyes she said, For all we are to receive today, may we be truly thankful.

And we will be, Sandy said, making everyone laugh as they sat, ate and talked.

The talk was of anything but the up-coming job. Anyone listening would have found nothing strange in what the group of obviously old friends talked about. Heather was worried that the kids maybe needed an early visit to the dentist. Juliette, Sandy, and Diana gossiped about mutual acquaintances. The two teenagers got into an impenetrable argument about something that had happened at school.

It was normal, it was simple, and it calmed stretched nerves.

Homework finished?

Yes, Mother, Abigail, said as she rolled her eyes, making Carina laugh before she looked at Juliette.  Mine as well, she said with a grin, I want a clear mind for this.

Good, Juliette said with a smile, Eat up – then we need to start to get ready.  I want to move out at 2100 hours.

8.30 pm

Carina towelled off her hair as she came into the bedroom, watching Abby as she applied the lipstick to her mouth, making them large and red.  Really wearing makeup Abby was transformed and Carina couldn’t work out why Diana wouldn’t let her wear it for school. With cosmetic aid Abby went from being The Stick to a girl who for all the world could be a contestant on America’s Next Top Model. Placing the lipstick on the dresser, she stood up and knelt, picking up the garment as she said, Can you give me a hand, as she slipped it around herself.

The Thing as Abby thought of it was her disguise. It gave her a mature figure, nothing like the skin and bones that she naturally was. As uncomfortable as it might be she took pleasure from the thought it meant the police and FBI were working to an inaccurate description of her. Carina’s mother had had it made for her, only the Goddess knew where.

Sure, Carina said as she walked over and fastened it behind her.  The Thing was like a type of corset, but instead of holding her chest up it provided additional support, making her figure fuller as she pulled on some panties, and then the dark silk stockings. 

Standing back up, she walked over to the dresser and started to apply her own make up, as Abby picked up a tailored dark blue skirt and slipped it on, fastening it around her waist as it fell just to her knees.  She then sat on the bed and slipped her feet into a pair of black leather shoes with three-inch stiletto heels. The shoes were a gift from her mother. Diana only bought the best, and these were soft, handmade Italian imports.

As Carina applied the red lip-gloss, blotting her lips on tissue paper, Abigail picked up the matching tailored jacket and slipped it on, fastening it so that the top of her white bra could just be seen.  She then selected a gold and yellow silk square, folded it into a band and laid it on the bed, before returning to the dresser.

Here, let me, she said as she took the eyeliner and applied it to Carina’s eyes, making them seem larger.  She then put her blonde hair up in a bun, picked up one of the two black wigs and put it on her head, adjusting it so that it framed her face.

Contact lenses?

Already in, Abby said before she tied the scarf around her neck to hide the opening, the ends to one side.

Finally, as Carina started to dress, she picked up a jade cat shaped brooch and pinned it to the lapel of her jacket.  She had selected it from the jewellery store, and felt it matched her character.

As Carina tied a grey silk scarf around her neck, the ends to the opposite side from Abby, she fastened to the knot a small yellow and black clasp, with silver eyes.

The suits fitted perfectly. Tight, business like, but sexy. The perfect outfits for the business they were in.

Turning, Carina slipped her delicate feet into the patent pumps with the five-inch stilettos. She loved her extra high heels; they gave her a real power boost.

The girls looked at each other, and walked own the staircase.  The other four were already waiting, dressed identically save for their scarves.  Juliette and Heather wore theirs as they had when they met Tommy the day before.

Diana was wearing a large Hermes Crois de Lyon scarf over her shoulders, her neck bare, but the ends were held together by a black clasp in the shape of a cat face, with ruby eyes.  Finally, Sandy wore a black and white square folded around her neck and the ends tucked in front, a safety pin in the shape of a puma holding it in.

The suits were made by a contact of Juliette’s in China. The style and workmanship was up to the standard of Paris couture, the fittings had been done in Hong Kong a few weeks earlier. Juliette smiled at her own cleverness; the gang was dressed in outfits the law had always assumed might be traceable, exclusive, poor suckers!

Okay none of you wearing any personal items? No jewellery? Nothing traceable? Juliette looked each woman straight in the face as they nodded their yeses. It was stupid little mistakes like that, which got you caught.

Gloves on, Juliette ordered as all six donned thin black leather gloves, time to go to work ladies.

Each woman donned a pair of wayfarer sunglasses, the identical suits, the identical wigs, they were de-individualised completely. They were a cohesive unit, six acting as one, they were the Pussycat Gang.

10.30 pm, Cos Cob, Greenwich.

Thank you Maria, Beverley Markham said as the young Puerto Rican woman laid a cup of tea on the table beside her.  Maria was in her late twenties, and wore a simple grey coatdress with a white apron, dark stockings and flat shoes.

Beverley was wearing a pale blue V-necked sweater and matching pants, a matching scarf tied as a band over her tightly curled brunette hair.   Her husband Joe had a scotch in his hand as he watched the news, in a shirt and slacks with a pair of comfortable slippers on his feet.

Megan was sitting at the dining table, looking at something on her mobile phone.  Who are you talking to now, dear, Beverley said as she looked over.

Cath – talking about boys, Megan said with a yawn.  It was getting late, and she was beginning to think about going to bed.

None of them heard the two SUVs pull up outside of the house on Richard Street, the lights off.  They had come up the tree screened driveway from the main road, and now stood silent outside the stone clad two storey building, the lights on downstairs.

All quiet on the home front, Sandy said as she turned and looked at Diana and Abigail, the three women removing their glasses.

Yup, Abby said as she opened the bag, and took out three nylon stockings.  Handing one to her mother and one to Sandy, she pulled it down over her head, tucking the opening into her scarf as she watched the others do the same – save for Diana, the stocking sitting at the base of her neck.

Opening the doors of the Galaxy, they stepped out and waited for the others to join them, the nylon stockings obscuring their features as they walked over.  Opening a bag, she handed two sawn off shotguns to Juliette and Sandy, a pistol to Heather, and kept one for herself, closing the bags as Abby and Carina picked them up.

The six women walked up the path to the front door, their heels clicking on the flagstones.   Sandy was controlling her breathing, trying not to get aroused too early, while Juliette’s eyes burned under the nylon.

Turning and nodding to the others, she pumped the shotgun, Sandy doing likewise, before putting her hand on the door handle, turning it slowly.  Taking a deep breath, she threw the door inwards and ran in.

Don’t move a fuckin’ inch, you bastards, she shouted as they ran in.  Joe and Beverley looked up to see six extremely well dressed women making a dramatic entrance, two of them brandishing sawn off shotguns as they stood in front of both of them and pointed the weapons into their faces.

Playtimes over bitch, another said as she pulled Megan out of her seat and pushed her over, so sit down and don’t say a fucking word.

What the hell do you think…

I said to shut the fuck up, the lead woman said as she slapped Beverley across the cheeks with her gloved hands.  Miss Puma, Miss Leopard, get the maid.

Two of the women, armed with shotguns, nodded and walked off as the final two opened a bag, and took out lengths of rope.  Tie the bastards fuckin’ up, the leader said, as they moved behind Joe and Beverley and pulled their hands behind their back.

Who are you, Joe said as he felt the cords biting into his wrists.

I’m Miss Panther, the leader said, a grin clearly visible under the nylon stocking covering her face, and you may have heard of us, the newspapers call us the Pussycat Gang.

Oh god, Joe whispered as he visibly paled, Please, we’ll do whatever you say…

Oh my God it was a bank manager’s worst nightmare come true. These bitches had been pulling big robberies for over a year, they never left clues; they just left the odd dead body.

Who the hell do you think you are, Beverley said as Maria was dragged in by the two women, a damp tea towel pulled between her lips.

She tried to run and scream, Miss Puma said as they threw her to the floor, and she grabbed some rope, pulling her arms behind her back and binding her wrists tightly together.

Joe, do you know who these people are? 

Daddy?

It will be fine darling, just do as these ladies order, Joe shook literally with fear. You remember that story we watched on the local news a few weeks ago about the robbery at my banks branch in New London…

Oh my God, the colour drained from Beverley’s cheeks. It was th’ th’ these women? They killed those people. She tried to pull her arms away as she exclaimed  you are savages!

Sweetie I wouldn’t go calling us names, but yeah I think you now know who we are and what we are capable of doing. Miss Puma clearly smiled under her mask.

Joe swallowed and said, Yes – what do you want?

Simple really, Miss Panther said as the two women pulled ropes around the arms and chests of Megan’s parents, We’re going to stay the night, hold your family hostage, and in the morning while someone stays here with them, you’re going to open the bank vault for us.

So you’re common bank robbers?

There is nothing common about us sweetie, the woman behind her said as she pulled on Beverley’s hair, forcing a dirty rag into her mouth as she opened it to scream before tying a length of rope between her teeth to keep it in place, we are the un-common bank robbers.

Quite right, Miss Lynx, Miss Panther said with a smile, as her partner walked round and started to bind Beverley’s ankles together.  At the same time, Miss Puma and Miss Leopard were hogtying Maria, while Megan watched.

Please, Joe pleaded as his ankles and legs were bound, Don’t hurt them.  I’ll do whatever you say.

Yes, you will… Miss Cheetah?

Of course, the final woman said as she pulled Megan’s arms behind her back and started to bind her wrists together, You’re not going to say anything, are you cunt?

Megan shook her head in silence as her arms were bound to her sides, stretching her t-shirt over her chest as she held her legs together, desperate not to show what she was feeling.  She watched as her mother’s legs were bound, then her father’s, and then hers.  She had heard of this gang as well – and now here they were, holding her and her family hostage.

The rules are simple, Miss Panther said as she looked at the captives, while Miss Cheetah said open, slut and pushed a cloth into Megan’s mouth.  Just do as we tell you, that’s it.  No stupidity, no mistakes.  Miss Lynx, disable all phones.

Can I play with this one, Miss Puma said as she gently stroked the back of Maria’s legs.

Later, Miss Panther said as she watched Miss Lynx pull the phone from the wall.  Right now, we need to show Mummy and Daddy we mean business.  Miss Tigress, Miss Lynx, you take the daughter upstairs, the boss gave an order. And I don’t mind if you enjoy yourself with her in your usual fashion. Miss Panther smiled knowingly at the two younger women.

Yes, Ma’am, Miss Tigress said as she forced Megan to get to her feet, whispering I’m going to enjoy taking care of you, as she and Miss Lynx made her hop to the stairs, Beverley screaming after them.

I told you to shut the fuck up, you bastard bitch, Miss Panther said as she leaned forward, or would you like to remain silent permanently?  She pointed the pistol she was holding at Beverley’s forehead, the woman shaking her head as a wet patch appeared between her legs.

Oh dear – the stupid bitch has pissed herself, Megan heard Miss Panther say as the two women pulled her along the corridor.

Which fuckin’ one’s yours bitch? Miss Lynx said, and as Megan nodded to a door Miss Tigress opened it, pulling Megan in and throwing her onto the four-poster bed.

Nice room – Daddy and Mummy give you everything you want, Miss Tigress said as she closed the door.  Megan nodded as she watched the two women standing over her.

Megan whimpered as she looked at the two masked woman.  Miss Lynx looked round, then walked over and picked up a pair of scissors.

We might as well have some fun, she said as Miss Tigress pushed Megan down on the bed, holding her as Miss Lynx cut her t-shirt away from her, revealing her blue bra.  She cried out as she then cut the bra through the middle of the front, pulling the cups away and pinching hard on her nipples.

AGngngngggg Megan screamed out in pain as the gloved fingers pinched on her nipples.  Oh she’s a ripe one, Miss Tigress said as she stroked her gloved hand across Megan’s stomach, and I get the feeling she’s never been fucked.

Is that right, cocksucker, Miss Lynx said as she looked into Megan’s eyes, Are you a pure little virgin?

Megan looked at both the women, and then slowly shook her head from side to side.

Really?  Let’s find out, Miss Lynx said as she cut Megan’s shorts away, and then pulled her panty hose down, before cutting off her panties.

Oh naughty little fucker – she’s damp, Miss Tigress said as Megan heard muffled screaming from downstairs.

We told you not to try anything stupid, you fuckin’ stupid bitch, Miss Panther said as Maria was forced onto her knees, the tears streaming from her eyes and running down her cheeks as Miss Cheetah knelt behind her.  And what do you do?  You try to send a fuckin’ text.

The smashed remains of her mobile phone were on the floor in front of Beverley and Joe, who was looking on, unable to stop or speak.  Their mouths were stuffed and rope gags held the cloths in place, the cords rubbing on the corners of their mouths as they moved about.

Plssssdnhrtmm, Maria pleaded as Miss Puma knelt in front of her and slowly unbuttoned her dress, pulling the apron away before she pulled the front open, and started to run her finger down her chest.

Now, little cunt, Miss Panther said as she leaned back, the sawn off shotgun on her lap, we’re going to show what happens if you try and disobey us.  Very kind of your maid to volunteer for the demonstration.

Miss Cheetah slowly reached her hands round and started to roughly massage Maria’s chest, the young woman moaning as she felt her nipples harden under the assault.  At the same time, Miss Leopard took out a cigarette lighter and lit it, holding it in her hand as Beverley’s eyes fixed on the flame.

Miss Puma smiled at the maid before she ripped her bra off, and started to pinch her nipples, making Maria scream into the saliva soaked towel that filled her mouth.  From her jacket pocket, Miss Leopard took out a pair of small paper clamps, and started to heat them with the flame from the cigarette lighter.

Whtrudng, Beverley whimpered as Miss Cheetah held Maria’s arms, Miss Puma standing up and watching as Miss Leopard brought the hot metal clamp over and looked at Maria.  She tried to cower back, but she was held firmly in place as Miss Leopard fastened the heated clamp onto her left nipple.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!

Sounds like somebody is being naughty, Miss Lynx said with a laugh as she looked at Megan.  You don’t want that to happen to you, do you?

Megan just stared back at them, trying desperately not to show what she was really thinking.   All she knew was the feeling inside her, as Miss Tigress tied her ankles to the foot of the bed.

I don’t know, Miss Lynx, said as she picked up a pencil from her desk, perhaps she wants to be a bad girl.  What do you want to do, Megan?

Putting the pencil down, she reached into the inside pocket of her jacket, and took out a penknife.  Flicking it open, she sat on the bed next to Megan and ran the flat of the blade between her legs.

She noticed the way Megan gasped as she did this, and wondered if there was something going on she was missing.  Are you afraid of me, little cunt, she said as she pressed the flat of the blade against her clit, the cold steel making Megan shiver.

She nodded slowly, and then gasped, unable to contain herself any more.

Hey – look at this.

Megan looked at Miss Tigress, who was looking in her wardrobe.  She knew her secret had been discovered, as Miss Lynx stood up and looked where her partner was looking.  She then looked back at Megan, walking over and pulling the cloth from her mouth.

Talk, bitch, she said as she squeezed Megan’s left breast, making her scream out in surprise, What is the meaning of that?

Aaaaaaaa please, Megan gasped, you’re turning me on with that!

Miss Lynx stopped for a moment, and then said, You’re turned on by what’s happening?

Megan blushed, looking at both of them as she said I’ve heard of you – read of the things you have done, and.

Not a good idea to lie to us, cow, Miss Tigress said, What?

I’m fascinated by you.  That’s why I have what you saw – I was copying you.

Miss Tigress took out the blue jacket and skirt, a light blue silk scarf wrapped round the top of the suit hanger, and smiled.  You admire us?  You do know what we do?

Megan nodded, and then screamed out loud again.  To make them think you’re hurting me, she added, as there was another muffled scream from downstairs.

Maria was crying even more now, her head bowed as the searing pain on her nipples slowly started to ebb.  The metal clamps were still in place, lengths of duct tape now holding them in place.  Her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps as she raised her head and looked at her employers.

Plss, dnnthrthrnmrr, Joe said as he looked at Miss Panther.  He could hear the screams from his daughter, as he looked at his wife, her head resting on his shoulder.

She’s all yours, Miss Puma, Miss Panther said.

Thank you, boss, the masked woman said as she and Miss Cheetah lifted the crying maid between them, carrying her out of the room to the rear of the house.  As they did so, Miss Leopard walked over and stood in front of them.

You don’t mind if I go and have a look round upstairs, do you?  I want to see what you spend your money on.

Beverley started to shake her head, but Joe rubbed his cheek against her and said Tsnnlllmnee.

Listen to your husband, Beverley, Miss Panther said with a smile, after all, what will the local PTA do without your firm and honest leadership?  Beverley stared at her, and then said ufkngbstrd, fuvehrrtmgn...

Language, Miss Panther said as she stood up, I strongly advise you to watch yours.  After all, we are your guests.  Standing up, she walked over to the music centre, selecting a CD and putting it into the machine with her gloved hands.

Ah yes – music to love by, she said as she walked back over to them.  You love your husband, don’t you Beverley?

The older woman nodded as she looked at Joe.

And you would do anything for him?

She nodded again, wondering what the masked intruder was planning to do.

Then get on your knees, Miss Panther said as she picked up the shotgun, and pointed it at her.  Too frightened to refuse, Beverley slid off the couch, grunting as her knees hit the ground.

Move over and kneel in front of your husband, she said, watching as Beverley slowly moved over, indicating with the gun that Joe should sit up.  As he shuffled forward, Miss Panther used a knife to cut the rope from his wife’s mouth, and pulled the soaking wet cloth out.

Wh....What do you want me to do, she grunted as she looked at Miss Panther.

Isn’t it obvious, she said as she reached down and pulled the zip of Jim’s trousers down, then reached in and pulled his cock out, I want you to suck him off.

NO!

I said, Miss Panther repeated, slowly this time as Beverley felt the cold steel of the sawn off barrels against her head, Be the dirty fucking slut you really are, and suck this big juicy man off, you slag!

Beverley stared at Miss Panther, then at Joe as she whispered Please, no, I’ve never...

You don’t have a choice, you fucking stupid whore, Miss Panther said as she pressed the gun against her head.  Crying, she shuffled forward, whispering, I’m sorry as she kissed her husband’s cock, and then started to lick it, drawing to slowly into her mouth.

It had been over twenty years since she had done anything like this to him, and Joe could not help himself as the gently sucking and the feel of his wife’s tongue started to turn him on, making him throb as she drew it further and further in. 

In Maria’s bedroom, the maid was standing at the end of the bed, stripped naked with her wrist tied to the two brass knobs on the top of her foot rest, and her ankles spread wide apart and secured to the bed legs.  Her breasts were throbbing, but that was not all, as Miss Puma used the end of a rounded toothbrush like a dildo, pushing to roughly in and out of her damp passage as she started to orgasm again.

At the same time, Miss Cheetah had a second hairbrush – this one forced between her butt cheeks, as she twisted and turned it to increase the stimulation on the young woman.  The towel had been removed and replaced with a pair of her dirty panties, while duct tape had been wrapped tightly round her head.

As she threw her head back and screamed in the heights of her orgasm, the two smartly dressed women smiled and watched.  There now, Miss Cheetah said as she looked at the young woman, stroking her cheek with her gloved hand, That was fun, wasn’t it?

Plsssnmmrrr, Maria moaned as she looked at the two masked women.

Awww, Miss Cheetah said, And we were saving the best for last.

Maria’s eyes opened wide as they untied her, Miss Cheetah pointing the gun at her as she said, Dress up nice.

NNGMMMMMMMMMYSSSSSSSS Joe screamed out as he shot his load directly into his wife’s mouth, the gun at her head forcing Beverley to swallow everything.  Eventually she stopped and said PLLSSNDDNTLT.

I beg your pardon, Miss Panther said as she removed the gun, allowing Beverley to move her head back.

I need the toilet, ma’am, she panted.  Miss Panther looked at her, then untied her ankles and said, All right – downstairs pisser, and door stays open.

How can I....

Not my problem, Miss Panther said as she untied her legs and forced Beverley to her feet, then frog marched her to the toilet, waiting by the door as Miss Leopard came back down the stairs.

Well?

Quite a nice collection – and I found a safe.

Really, Miss Panther said with a smile, then we need to get the combination.  Go and...

Their talk was interrupted as Beverley surprised both of them, running full tilt from the bathroom and screaming HELP!!! POLICE!!! as she sprinted with a speed she never knew she had for the front door.  She had one thought – get out, raise the alarm, save her family.  She focused solely on the door, determined nothing would...

You fucking bitch, you fucking stupid little bitch, Miss Panther said as she brought barrel of the shotgun down on the back of Beverley’s neck, sending her sprawling as she cut her forehead on the floor.  She lay there, stunned as the two masked women dragged her by her ankles back to the couch, and Miss Leopard kicked her in the side, making her groan.

Your wife is a stupid cow, bastard, Miss Panther said as Joe screamed at her, and now she has to pay the penalty.  Kicking her onto her back, she reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down, baling them up and pushing them into her mouth.

Tape her up, she said to Miss Leopard, I need to fetch Miss Lynx.

Miss Lynx and Miss Tigress looked at Megan as she sat in the chair, putting her ankles together and then to one side.  She had put on the jacket and skirt, tying the scarf and then allowing them to bind her wrist together behind the back of the chair, pulling them down and securing them to the centre spar of the chair back. 

So you’ve admired us, Miss Lynx said as Miss Tigress bound her ankles to the chair leg, In what way?

"That robbery you