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Sleepy Detectives

SLEEPY DETECTIVE MAGAZINE #1 - "Model's Beware"
Her name was Vicki Timmons, and she was a model. You could tell it by looking at her. She was tall, blonde, and buxom. Her long pantyhose clad legs carried her into the photography studio, her high heels steps a harbinger to those waiting inside. But they were waiting with an entirely different purpose than the young and naive Miss Timmons believed.

"Hello," She called out in the seemly empty studio, "Is anyone here?"

Suddenly without warning a hand clamped itself over her nose and mouth as a powerful arm wrapped around her slender waist. She screamed into the cloth covering her mouth, and her cries for help were muffled into uselessness. Vicki took a breath, and a floor of sickly sweet vapors invaded her nostrils. She recognized the smell from chemistry class in high school . . . Chloroform! The beautiful blonde intensified her struggles, but soon the anesthetic took it's toll, and she fell into darkness.

Her captor held the sickly sweet rag over her face for a few moments while lowerly the unconscious woman to the ground. Satisfied that she was good and truly out, the assailant tape gagged the model, and then proceeded to handcuff her wrists and ankles. Carrying the unconscious blonde over the shoulder, the kidnapper walked out of the studio with Vicki toward a more secure place to hold her prisoner.

At Police Headquarters a pair of beautiful women, part of a secret Detective Squad assigned to look into abductions, waited patiently for their next assignment. Brooke, the tallest of the pair, was an attactive redhead with bright blue eyes and long legs which rested in a pair of open toe high heel pumps. Tracy, with her long black hair resting on her broad shoulders, was almost as tall but a but more buxom, a fact she emphasized by the amount of cleavage she showed off. Shannon, their blonde counterpart, entered, a concerned look on her face.

"We have another report of a missing model," Shannon said as she entered the meeting room, "She the third in as many weeks."

"Any links between the victims," Brooke asked.

"They all were approached by the Durant Modeling Agency, but none of them took any assignments for it," Shannon answered, "Other than that all they had in come was that they were young and pretty and models."

"Perhaps one of us should pay a visit to the Durant Modeling Agency," Terry suggested.

"And another of us should go to a more well known agency, and she if Durant bites," Brooke added.

"While the to of you are advancing you modeling careers," Shannon said, "I'll have a talk with the head of the agency, Rose Durant. Maybe she knows something."

Terry entered the office of the Durant Modeling Agency, and took a seat after talking to the receptionist. There were a half dozen young women waiting with her. The brunette detective decided to dress simply, a white silk blouse, blue jeans, and black high heeled pumps. She was a little older but thought she had the best chance of getting the Durant Agency's attention. After all, before becoming a Detective she had actually done some modeling, and experience counted.

Shannon entered the office and saw Terry waiting with the other would be models. She was careful not to acknowledge her, and went right to the receptionist, and flashed her badge. To her surprise she was shown right into the off of Rose Durant, the head of the modeling agency. She was an attractive woman who used to be a swimsuit model herself, but looked right at home in the power business suit she wore.

"I'm as concerned about these model's disappearing as you are, Detective," Rose replied after Shannon explained why she was there, "But I'm afraid I can't help you. None of the three missing model's were clients of mine."

Shannon thanked Rose Durant for her time, and after leaving her card in case she remembered anything, left. Terry waited and waited, and was finally granted an interview. It went quickly, and she was tolled that she'd be called if needed. Terry returned to her apartment, where Brooke was waiting after reestablishing her modeling career.

"I can't believe you got a job already," Terry said, somewhat miffed by her own rejection.

"It's just for pantyhose," Brooke said with a smile, "You know what they say. Nothing beats a great pair of legs."

The phone rang, and Terry picked it up, hoping it was a modeling job. Her ego could have used the boost. Unfortunately it was Shannon, with some surprising news.

"Rose Durant just called me," Shannon said over the phone, "She says she found something, but wants to show me in person, and asked to meet me at the agency."

"I don't like the sound of that," Terry said concerned, "Do you want me and Brooke to meet you there?"

"Only Brooke," Shannon replied, "No sense blowing your cover at this point."

Terry told Brooke was Shannon said, and in a flash the redheaded beauty was off. Left alone, Terry went over to the mirror, and looked at her legs. She kicked off high heels, and removed her blue jeans, and decided that she could do panythose modeling just as well as Brooke. Brooke, however, would need a wonder bra to match Terry's natural endowments.

Shannon arrived at the agency to find Rose waiting for her. She immediately handed the detective a file folder. In it were pictures of the three missing models.

"I decided to check my files just in case," Rose explained, "It turns out that someone using this agency gave assignments to a photographer's studio that hasn't been used in years."

"How to you know that?" Shannon asked as she read the file.

"Because I closed it," Rose said with a smile as she aimed a pistol right at Shannon's face, "Turn around very slowly."

"So you're behind it," Shannon asked as she complied, "But why?"

"Because I found I could make more money selling models instead of just renting them," Rose answered as she removed Shannon's gun and handcuffs, and used the later to secure the blonde detective's hands behind her back, "The fact that the police have shown up on my doorstep tells me it's time to close up shop. You'll make a nice addition to my collection, Detective."

"You'll never get away with th- . . . MMFFFP!" Shannon began to say, her words interupted by a rag reeking of chloroform clamped over her nose and mouth.

"Sweet dreams, Detective," Rose said as Shannon began to so limp in her arms, and after letting her fall unconscious to the floor, "Now to see who else is out there."

Brooke arrived to find Shannon's car parked outside the agency. She waited a few moments before entering, but her concern for her friend was overpowering. Drawing her weapon, she entered, and to her shock she found the unconscious and handcuffed blonde lying on the ground in the main office. Brooke rushed to her side, only to be intercepted by Rose, who stepped from behind a door and shoved a chloroform rag into her surprised face. Caught off guard, Brooke dropped her pistol, and immediately began to struggle with her assailant. The chloroform, however, had already robbed her of her strength, and soon she fell to the ground unconscious.

"My, my, you're pretty enough to sell," Rose said with a grin as she handcuffed Brooke's hands behind her back, "Now, let's see, what was the name of that young woman who wanted to be a model. Ah, yes, Terry. Looks like the studio gets one last use after all."

" . . . think their coming around," A voice said in the distance, and Shannon opened her eyes to see herself, Brooke, and three other attractive young women, all tied to chairs in what looked to be a storage room.

"Are you all right?" A young woman she recognized as Vicki Timmons asked.

"I think so," Shannon answered, and looking over at her partner, "Brooke?"

"I'm okay," Brooke replied groggily, "What's going on?"

"It's Rose Durant," Vicki explained, "She's crazy. First she tells us we've got modeling jobs, then she chloroform's us, ties us up, and tells us were going to be sold."

"Thank you Miss Exposition," Shannon said, and turning to Brooke, "Think you can get loose?"

"I think so," Brooke said as she began testing her bounds, "Although the effect chloroform has on the muscles cancels out a lot of the advantages of being double jointed."

"Well, it she had left us in handcuffs I would have gotten us out of here by now," Shannon observed, and turning to Vicki, "Where is here, anyway?"

"It's an old bomb shelter under the modeling agency," Vicki answered.

"Just what every insane ex-model kidnapper needs," Shannon said dryly.

Meanwhile Terry was walking into the photographer's studio, and what she knew to be a trap. Her attempts to call either Brooke or Shannon had failed, and now she was going to face Rose Durant alone. This time, however, the ex-model had a victim who was ready for her.

"Hello," Terry called out into the darkened studio, "Is anyone here?"

Suddenly she head a sound behind her. She turned around she see Rose trying to sneak up on her, still wearing her powersuit, but sans her high heels. The ex-model charged her, but Terry dodged, and send Rose flying with a well aimed kick. As Terry drew her pistol Rose, recognizing the danger, pulled the bottle of chloroform out of her pocket and threw it right at Terry. The brunette detective dodged, but the bottle shattered against a light stand next to her, and she was splashed with the sickly sweet anesthetic.

"Don't move," Terry warned, her white silk blouse reeking of chloroform.

"I don't have to," Rose said with an evil smile, "I'm sure that nasty old gun is getting heavier and heavier, just like those pretty eyelids of yours.

"Tell me . . . Tell me what you've done . . . Done with them," Terry demanded, trying to unbutton her chloroform soaked blouse in hopes of removing it, but her fingers not working right.

"Don't worry," Rose replied as she watched Terry drop her pistol, and a moment later fall to the floor unconscious, "You'll be joining them soon enough."

Not long after Rose returned to the agency's bomb shelter prison, Terry, missing her blouse, carried over her shoulder. The ex-model was shocked to see her captives no long bound in their chairs. Her shock lasted mere moments, however, as those same captors jumped her, knocking her unconscious in a fight that last all of two seconds.

"How are you feeling?" Shannon asked Terry as the later rested in a chair in the bomb shelter.

"Better now that I know the two of you are safe," Terry replied.

"So your blouse got soaked with chloroform," Brooke said shaking her head, "Anything to show off your boobs."

"At least people want to see me from the waist up," Terry replied.

"Models," Shannon said, shaking her head in disbelief as she walked out of the bomb shelter.

The End.

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