Tara's new job 
By Dreadnaught
Tara gets a job as a bouncer
 
 
     Vincent Nelson leaned back on his bar and wondered how he 
could possibly be happier. *My* bar, he thought to himself. After 
twenty-five years of working, slaving away at a tedious job, he 
finally had enough money to make his life-long dream come true. He 
had always wanted to run a posh casino, and now he had it. The Den 
belonged to him. It had everything he always envisaged; dozens of 
tables set up for blackjack, poker, dice, slot machines, a large, 
well-stocked bar, everything. And it was all his to run as he saw 
fit. The only thing that bothered him about it was the itchiness 
his tuxedo gave him, but he took solace in the fact that every 
other man who came to the Den also had to endure the uncomfortable 
penguin-suits. Plus he had certain members of his staff to keep 
his mind off his discomfort. 
     He had quite a large staff working for him. He needed every 
one of them when the Den was full on weekends. The bouncers, 
bartenders, serving girls, dealers, all had to meet with his strict 
approval. All except one, the serving girl his eyes were currently 
lingering on as she worked. He started at the top, admiring her 
long blonde hair that she wore in a perfect braid, the lovely face 
with the perfect make-up, the broad yet feminine shoulders hidden 
under her velvet jacket. The large, firm breasts underneath her 
dress shirt, the slim waistline. Then the very short pleated black 
skirt, and the perfect, endlessly long, unmistakably feminine legs 
encased in the finest, silky sheer black nylons, ending in a shiny, 
polished pair of black pumps with two-inch heels.  
     Nelson had practically hired her on the spot when she applied 
for the position of drinks server. He had always been shy and 
awkward around attractive women, and Tara was one of the most 
attractive he'd ever seen. He was naturally intimidated, but even 
more than usual. Nelson was a short, pudgy man, and when he found 
himself looking up, finding he barely came up to Tara's chin, and 
noted the "don't mess with me" look in her piercing blue eyes, he 
came very close to feeling real fear, beyond his usual awkwardness. 
She had a job very soon afterwards. And she was an excellent 
server. He had no complaints in that area. For a brief period of 
time he toyed with the idea of making her wear flats with her 
uniform, but every time he saw how perfect her legs looked in her 
heels, and the obvious grace she moved in, he was glad he threw 
that idea away. She walked with the poise and ease of a leopard 
stalking its prey. He'd just have to put up with feeling like a 
midget when she was around. 
     It was something in her attitude that bothered him. Her past 
was a mystery to him. He knew Tara had had a rough background, and 
she had told him she wanted this job to get away from things in her 
past, to rebuild her life with a good start. But more and more he 
got the feeling she wanted more than that, that she was 
contemptuous of the position she held. Like serving drinks was more 
boring than anything she'd ever done. But she never let that 
attitude affect her job performance, and as long as she did her 
job, Nelson was happy. He had the feeling a fair number of his 
regular customers just came in to admire her, and he couldn't blame 
them. As long as they came. He had worked his entire life for this, 
and he wanted it to succeed. 
     He tore his attention away from the leggy server girl long 
enough to watch one of his bouncers escorting two men outside. He 
had seen the two men in here before, although he didn't know who 
they were. One was a large, black man, with a permanent sneer on 
his face. The other was a shorter man, probably Italian, with a 
large studded earring in his left ear, very expensive looking. They 
definitely weren't being asked to leave because they didn't meet 
the dress code, since they were both decked out in expensive black 
tuxedos. Still, he didn't worry, his bouncers knew their jobs. He'd 
ask what this was about later. 
     Nelson returned his attention to Tara, following her every 
movement with his gaze. Being a quiet night, neither she nor any of 
the rest of the staff working that evening had much to do. Nelson's 
concentration was so fixed on the attractive blonde server that he 
didn't notice his bouncer, the only one on that night, had been 
gone for a good few minutes, until Tara announced she was going on 
break, bummed a cigarette from the bartender and began to head 
outside. Then he began to wonder what was going on. 
 
     As she stepped outside into the dark, Tara's attention was 
instantly caught by the fight proceeding nearby. The two men the 
bouncer had escorted out had turned on him and double-teamed him. 
Tara saw the bouncer already had a bloody nose when the black man 
caught him in the face with another heavy punch. The bouncer 
slammed back into the wall and crumpled to the ground, and the two 
men quickly began kicking him while he was down. The bouncer began 
to scream in agony as his body was being pummeled. 
     The tall, black man was so intent on punishing his target he 
didn't hear Tara coming up behind him until she spoke. "How's about 
picking on a less defenseless target, guys?" a rich female voice 
behind him said. 
     Both men stopped putting the boots into their beaten target 
and spun on her, then stared appreciatively at the tall, long- 
legged blonde beauty confronting them. "Whoa, honey," the black man 
gaped. "Where's your target, babe?" 
     "You're drooling over her right now." 
     Both men began to laugh. "Look, sexy, we're not the kind of 
guys you want to be joking with," the black man said menacingly 
when he was finished laughing. "Once we're done with this piece of 
crap," he booted the bouncer in the ribs once more, "We just might 
want to have you for dessert. A babe like you might make a real 
good finish to the evening." 
     Tara smiled an evil grin. "Really? You two wimps might be the 
high point of my evening, too." Before the black man even had time 
to blink, Tara quickly threw a hard right punch into his face. He 
grunted as the punch knocked him to the ground and momentarily 
stunned him. 
     The shorter man was ready for a fight, although he definitely 
wasn't expecting to get it from a well-built woman. But he 
recovered from his shock with admirable speed, turned to Tara and 
threw a looping punch at her lovely face. The taller woman ducked 
quickly down under the punch. The man had a look of alarm on his 
face. He'd expected to put her down for the count with that one 
blow, despite the obviously lucky punch she'd come up with to knock 
his partner down. "You call that a punch?" he heard the girl laugh 
as she came back up. Tara slammed her fist into the little man's 
stomach. He howled in pain as the wind exploded forth from him. "A 
punch is when you make a fist and actually try to hit whoever 
you're fighting. Like this," she said, punching him solidly in the 
mouth. Her punch landed with a whack, spinning the man around and 
sending him face-first to the pavement. He lay there for a few 
moments, shaking his head vigorously, dabbing at the trickle of 
blood running from his lips. 
     "Really, I wish you two had waited until after I was off-duty. 
I'd hate to get my uniform mussed up beating you both up, but if I 
have to, I have to," Tara smirked. By now both men had gotten back 
to their feet, somewhat uneasily, and looked at her with a mixture 
of shock and rage. "Dammit, bitch, you're gonna pay for that," the 
black man vowed. Both charged at her. 
     The short man prepared to throw another punch, but Tara 
stopped him easily with a backhand slap across his jaw. He stumbled 
back just as the black man threw his punch at her face. She dodged 
back out of reach just in time, then kicked her long leg up hard 
into his gut. He bent in two around her leg with a loud grunt. "Did 
that hurt, tough guy?" Tara asked gleefully as she watched him 
struggle not to sink to his knees. "This ought to hurt even more. 
Watch my foot." As the man straightened up, he looked up and saw 
Tara balanced prodigiously on the toes of one foot, her other leg 
up in the air in front of him, her sexy shoe bobbing back and forth 
entrancingly before his face. It bobbed back one more time, then 
flew forward, the top of her foot plowing into the side of his 
chin. Tara's kick spun the man around and sent him crashing into 
the hood of a parked car, where he lay on his stomach, groaning. 
"Just try not to get blood on my shoes, little man," Tara giggled 
at him. "Getting these heels polished takes a lot of time and 
money." 
     While Tara was busy flooring the black man, the bouncer had 
dazedly gotten back up. He staggered up and threw a punch at the 
shorter man, who blocked it. The two men then locked into a 
grapple, gripping each other's arms, fighting for supremacy. Tara 
noted their struggle with amused contempt, and strode up to them. 
Unfortunately, the two men stumbled around as they were locked in 
each other's grips, and Tara was unable to get a clear shot in at 
the shorter man before they'd lurch back out of her reach. At one 
point the shorter man was shoved back into her, knocking her back 
a step. Annoyed, she'd stepped in immediately, snaking her arm 
around the shorter man's throat and putting him in a headlock. The 
man's eyes bulged and he stopped struggling against the bouncer, 
who just stood looking at the powerful blonde girl, dumbfounded at 
what he was seeing. "Dammit, you're just getting in my way!" Tara 
cursed at him. Keeping the short man in the headlock with her right 
arm, she swung with her left, punching the bouncer solidly in the 
face, whack. The bouncer sprawled backwards and slammed into the 
wall, collapsing into a heap. "Stay there!" Tara ordered him. "The 
last thing I need is an incompetent like you underfoot." The 
bouncer obediently stopped moving, his eyelids fluttering shut as 
he lost consciousness. 
     The shorter man brought both his hands up in a feeble attempt 
to free himself from Tara's headlock. He was having difficulty in 
breathing, and no luck in removing her powerful arm from around his 
throat. Her derisive laughter rang in his ears as he gurgled. 
"Having problems, shorty?" she asked, and he felt a set of strong, 
man-destroying female muscles contract around his neck. "Look at 
him," Tara said, pointing the helpless man in her arms at the 
dozing bouncer. "How long were you guys pounding on him? One punch 
from a girl and it's lights-out. And I'm gonna do the same to you, 
little man." Without shifting her firm grip on his throat, she 
brought her other fist hard into the side of his ribs. He screamed 
and tried to curl up, only to find Tara virtually holding him up 
with her one arm. She then released the crushing hold and turned 
him around to face her, then slung her immensely strong arm around 
him again and pulled. The amazon lifted him off his feet and 
flipped the short man over her hip. He crashed down onto the 
concrete flat on his back. When he opened his eyes he saw Tara's 
legs towering over him. Solid, well-muscled, curvaceous and sexy, 
they looked to him almost like they were carved out of mahogany 
with the added sheen of her sheer black nylons. Then he closed his 
eyes and began to try to find against the pain the woman was 
inflicting on him as her derisive laughter wafted down at him. 
"What's the matter, shorty? Didn't mommy ever tell you fighting a 
girl was dangerous?" 
     The black man stumbled to his feet and growled at Tara, who 
stood smiling at him, hands on her hips. "Come on, wimp, I'm just 
getting warmed up," she smirked. The man reached into his tuxedo 
jacket and brought out a switchblade. As the blade shot forth he 
wielded it menacingly and approached her. The only reaction he saw 
in her was amusement. "Give me a break!" Tara laughed. "You're so 
much of a man that you need a knife to fight a girl? Are you that 
afraid of how much I can hurt you, big man?" The man snarled and 
lunged at the sexy blonde. "Fuck you! I'm gonna kill you!!" he 
yelled. 
     He took a roundhouse swipe with the blade, and Tara quickly 
dodged back. Another swipe and he missed again. Enraged now, he 
stepped up and stabbed at her with all his strength. She quickly 
sidestepped the lethal attack, grabbing his arm with both hands. 
"Knives are too dangerous for little boys to play with," she told 
him, then raised her knee and slammed his arm down onto it. It was 
like being hit with a padded hammer in the middle of his forearm. 
She slammed his arm down again and he groaned, beginning to wonder 
if she was trying to break his arm. Once more across the knee and 
he cried out in pain, dropping the knife to clatter on the 
pavement. 
     Behind Tara, the short man had gotten back to his feet and was 
heading at her from behind as the knife hit the ground. She blurred 
into action. Looking over her shoulder as the short man got into 
range, she leaned forward and kicked out behind her, the bottom of 
her foot slamming into his chest. "Wuuuhh!" he grunted as her kick 
sent him to the ground and winded him viciously. The blonde then 
turned back to the black man, whose arm she hadn't released yet. He 
tried freeing his arm as one of her hands let him go, but didn't 
get very far before she punched him in the face. Her devastating 
fist sent him reeling back into the car. He stood leaning back 
against it, trying to shake off the pain and try to think up some 
suitable offense against this amazing female fighter. Maybe if he 
ran her over with the car? Nah, she'd probably punch the car and 
knock it out too.  
     Meanwhile, the short man had sat up and tried to recover. 
"Awww, you look like you're in pain, shorty," Tara snickered as she 
came up to him. The man growled and stood with some effort to face 
her. "Let me show you what pain really means," she promised, then 
kicked. Her long leg flew up like a rocket, the pointed toe of her 
shoe slamming into his face. His yowl of pain echoed through the 
deserted evening as Tara's powerful kick spun him around and 
launched him into a header to the concrete. "Hey, I warned you 
about getting blood on my heels," she told the groaning, nearly 
unconscious form on the ground. "A woman has to put a lot of effort 
into her appearance, loser. I don't want that ruined just because 
I had to knock out a couple of pathetic little men." 
     Tara strode confidently back to the black man. Despite the 
punishment he'd already taken from her punches and kicks, he 
desperately tried a charge attack at her, yelling a battle cry as 
he came at her with his fists ready to do damage. Tara was 
unimpressed, interrupting his war cry and ending it completely with 
a swift punch to his chin. The shapely blonde's punch sent him 
stumbling back to the car once more. She laughed at him 
contemptuously as he fought off the effects her fists were having 
on him. "What are you gonna tell all your tough male buddies, wimp? 
That you kept hitting a girl's fists with your chin until she gave 
up? Real impressive." The sarcasm and humiliation he was enduring 
spurred him into action. He swung at her head yet again, only to 
find the amazon block his punch with ease. Then her fists began to 
administer punishment, first landing a punch to his stomach. 
"Oooomph!" he cried, then "Unnh!" as her left fist caught his chin 
with a vicious jab. "Face facts," Tara smiled. "You're getting beat 
up by a girl. There's no way around it." She brought her right up 
and over, landing a solid punch to his eye. It impacted with a 
solid crack, sending the black man crashing back, rolling over the 
hood of the car to the ground.  
     He lay on the pavement nearing unconsciousness as Tara moved 
around the car and towered over him. She looked down on the beaten, 
bloody, battered face of the man she was beating up, noting the 
bloody nose, the eye closing from the immense bruise she'd given 
him, the battered and torn lips. He looked up and saw the strong, 
rock-hard, man-punishing fists he was being punished with. He noted 
the drops of blood on her knuckles. His blood. 
     She smiled an evil, sadistic smile down at him. Then she went 
off to her other target. 
     The short man had managed to combat the crushing effects of 
Tara's kick to his face and unsteadily got back to his feet. He saw 
her approach again, and tried one last reckless gambit. He bent 
over and yelled, charging at her in a football-style tackle. He 
slammed into her with his shoulder and felt her feet leave the 
ground as he took another couple of steps. Then he heard the 
clicking of her shoes as they met the pavement and felt all his 
forward momentum stop suddenly. After that it was like trying to 
push a truck. "All that did was wrinkle my skirt, shorty," he heard 
the blonde say. 
     Tara raised one fist high and brought it down hard, clubbing 
the short man in the back. He groaned and sank to his knees at her 
feet. Smiling, Tara took him in one hand and yanked him back up to 
face her. "I hope you're not too attached to your teeth, short 
stuff. I'm planning on knocking a few loose," the amazon laughed. 
Then whack, the back of her right fist shot across his jaw. He 
grunted loudly and wobbled on his feet. He felt his mouth beginning 
to fill with blood as she carried out her promise. He wanted to 
collapse, to crawl away from this immensely strong woman, but she 
held him firmly in her grasp. Then her fist came back, punching him 
in the jaw again. His head swam and he slumped in her grip, and she 
obligingly let him collapse to the ground, where he rolled in 
agony, squirming like a worm, much to her amusement. 
     Tara turned to see the black man approaching her. The second 
he saw her spin to face him again, common sense took over for the 
first time and he turn to run away. "Not leaving already, are you?" 
he heard her say, and felt her strong hand clamp down onto his 
shoulder. Amazing, she had been nowhere near him a second ago. He 
spun around and launched a desperate punch where he thought her 
head would be. She easily dodged to the side, and in the same 
smooth movement kicked him hard in the stomach. He bent in two, 
gagging and wheezing as the air left him in a rush. "I do hate 
having the men I'm fighting run away. It spoils the fun," Tara 
smirked, then lifted her knee into the black man's face. The blow 
knocked him off his feet and sent him crashing down onto his back. 
He lay groaning and bleeding as she looked him over. "You're almost 
done, tough guy. Better think up some last words before the girl 
puts you out for the night," she giggled. 
     The short man was a mess on the pavement. Bruises covered his 
face, blood leaked from his mouth, but he remained conscious and in 
considerable pain. Tara had no sympathy. She pulled him bodily to 
his feet, holding him there until he could stand himself, which 
wasn't an easy task after the pummeling she'd given him. "C'mon, 
shorty.. open your eyes. I'll close them for you in a minute," she 
smiled. Once his body was able to support itself and Tara was sure 
his eyes were focussed on her, she told him, "I'm going to show you 
why I wear my skirts so short." He thought he knew what was coming, 
and wanted to beg, plead with her for mercy, implore the shapely 
blonde to stop her painful destruction of him. But he never got the 
chance. Tara kicked him swiftly in the side of his ribcage. He 
howled with the pain. Without lowering her foot to the ground, she 
snapped her foot forward again, this time into his face like a 
missile. His last sight was the lights glinting off the shiny 
surface of her shoe as it zoomed up towards him. Her kick shot him 
off his feet and dropped him like a rock. He lay flat on his back 
and passed out. Tara looked down and made a disgusted sound at the 
blood stains on her perfect pump, but decided to worry about it 
later. 
     The black man lay where she had left him, trying to regain 
some of the strength she had pounded out of his body. "Let's go, 
tough guy, or has a girl beat you so bad you can't get up?" He 
stirred at her humiliating comment, and tried his best to raise 
himself off the ground. Tara was only too happy to help, and 
continued her humiliation as she pulled him to his feet. "I almost 
kicked your friend's head off over there," she told him with a 
smile. "Kicking a man unconscious is nice, but I prefer using my 
fists." The black man groggily tried another punch, and she blocked 
it easily. "For some reason, most men seem to think they're good 
with their fists," she said as she blocked another weak punch. She 
seemed content to humiliate him for now, and let him expend his 
last remaining strength on futile attacks while she wore down his 
confidence with her words. "That's the ultimate humiliation, when 
a man who thinks he knows how to use his fists finds a girl's fists 
beating him into submission." Another punch of his blocked. He only 
had one left in him. "I love that feeling," Tara finished. "The 
man's shock, his pain, his ego being destroyed.. and the feeling of 
my fists pounding weak male flesh. Now it's your turn, little man." 
She blocked his punch once again. This time she countered with one 
of her own, a solid blow to his stomach. He groaned and fell back, 
unable to stop her fist, now making a beeline for his chin. Crack.. 
Her strong punch sent him stumbling back, towards the doorway into 
the Den. "Maybe someday you'll be able to live down being beaten by 
a girl, wimp boy. Maybe not. Goodnight," Tara grinned, and threw 
her knockout punch straight to his face. The black man groaned and 
spun with the force of the punch, staggering and finally falling to 
the ground by the doorway, out cold. At the feet of Nelson, Tara's 
astonished boss. 
 
     It had been a good few minutes since Nelson had watched his 
bouncer escort those two men outside. Tara had gone out after them 
and vanished as well. He'd seen no signs that either of them had 
returned. Worriedly, he went towards the exit to take a look around 
for them outside. 
     Once he was outside, he witnessed the most amazing spectacle 
he'd ever seen in his life. His tall, blonde drinks server held a 
man in front of her with one hand. She drew back her other hand 
into a fist and let it fly. Tara's punch landed with a loud crack, 
sending the man spinning away from her and stumbling towards 
Nelson. The man's feet gave way under him as he staggered and he 
collapsed to the ground by Nelson, totally knocked out by Tara's 
punch. He recognized the man as one of the men that had been 
escorted out of the Den, although the man's face was now a mess of 
blood and bruises. 
     Nelson thought he was about to faint for a second as the true 
realization of what he'd just seen sank into him. It slowly dawned 
on him he'd just witnessed one of his waitresses batter a fully 
grown man into unconsciousness with her bare fist. He felt his 
breathing race as he looked around, seeing the other man asleep on 
the pavement as well, then the bouncer passed out against the wall, 
and then his attention swung back to the captivating blonde 
standing with her hands on her hips. He saw the dabs of blood on 
her knuckles and knew instantly she had accomplished this all by 
herself. She smiled at the obvious shock he was experiencing. 
     Nelson suddenly found his voice gone. "Wh.. wha..?" he 
croaked. 
     "What happened?" Tara finished for him. "These two wimps 
decided they wanted to hurt your bouncer. They probably would have 
killed him if I hadn't come along. I knocked them out." 
     "Y.. you?" Nelson stammered. If Tara had seemed intensely 
intimidating to him before, she seemed terrifying now. This girl 
had beaten two men in a fair fight. Nelson felt like a child next 
to her. "How.. how?" 
     "Same way you knock anyone out," Tara smirked, amused at his 
intimidation. "I hit them. I kicked them. Then they fell over." She 
laughed. 
     Nelson gulped heavily. "What do we do now?" 
     Tara thought for a second. "Well, for a start, you better call 
the cops to pick up these two dweebs." She indicated the two men 
she'd fought. "Unless you want them to sleep out here tonight. I'm 
pretty sure they won't be waking up till morning." 
     "No, no," Nelson agreed. His eyes were getting dry from 
registering his astonishment, so he blinked them rapidly. When his 
eyes cleared, the two men still lay unconscious, the powerful woman 
still towering over them and him. He wasn't hallucinating. 
     "What do you want done with him?" Tara asked, referring to the 
dozing bouncer. 
     "Jackson? I..I guess we better take him inside, to my office." 
Nelson began moving towards the bouncer, preparing himself to 
somehow try to drag the large man inside. This wasn't going to be 
easy. 
     But Nelson was quickly given another shock. Tara nodded at 
him. "Okay." Then she stepped over to Jackson and took his hand, 
pulling him up easily from his position slumped against the wall. 
Once she had him standing, she bent and took his limp form across 
her strong shoulders and stood. Tara held the big man up easily in 
a fireman's carry, and began walking towards Nelson as gracefully 
and easily as if the bouncer weighed next to nothing. She walked up 
to Nelson, who was paralyzed with astonishment. After a few seconds 
she revived him from his shock. "Well, let's go," she said. He 
shook his head violently and led the way inside. 
     Inside the casino, heads jerked violently around and gaped at 
the sexy blonde carrying the large, unconscious bouncer across her 
shoulders. Nelson stopped once they had reached the bar and quickly 
told the bartender to phone the police, then scurried towards his 
office, not sure how much longer Tara would be able to cart 
Jackson's dead weight on her shoulders. To his continued amazement, 
he turned around to find her standing easily by the bar, holding 
the big man effortlessly. She asked the bartender for her purse, 
waiting the few moments for the question to sink into the startled 
man's mind. Then he came around and fetched her purse for her, and 
she began walking towards Nelson once he had handed it to her, as 
relaxed and elegantly as she always was. Nelson felt his mind 
reeling. 
     He let the taller woman into his office first, clsoing the 
door behind him as he entered. Tara carried the bouncer over to 
Nelson's couch, where she dumped him, none too gently. But luckily 
the big man didn't bounce too high once she dropped him. He was 
still dozing peacefully. Nelson didn't want to imagine how much he 
must have weighed in that state. 
     "The police will be here in a few minutes.. now, wh.. what 
exactly happened?" 
     "I told you already," Tara answered. "Those two men tried to 
beat up Sleeping Beauty here. I stopped them, and gave them a few 
lessons in how to fight." 
     Nelson nodded quickly. He'd seen her throw one punch. It was 
enough to convince him that she was telling the absolute truth. He 
imagined not waking up for days if he'd been on the receiving end 
of that punch.  
     "And Jackson? What about him?" 
     "Oh, him," Tara smiled. "Well, part of the way into the fight, 
he decided he wanted to get involved again. He just got in my way, 
so I put him down as fast and effectively as I could. He was better 
off after that." 
     "So you.. you knocked him out?" Nelson winced as his 
stammering returned, but he couldn't help it. He was terrified, yet 
fascinated. 
     "Yeah," the blonde smirked. "I think he was more effective 
asleep than awake. Y'know, he really is a pathetic fighter, even 
for a man. I gave him one punch and he was sleeping like a baby. I 
can't believe you hired him as a bouncer." 
     Nelson lost what he was going to say. "Uhhhh.." was all that 
emerged. The knock on the door brought him back to reality. "Mr. 
Nelson, the police are here," the voice on the other side of the 
door said. Relieved, Nelson turned and left the blonde amazon 
warrior with the unconscious man. 
     Nelson spent fifteen minutes explaining the situation to the 
police officers. Not wanting to get into details, he kept the story 
intact until he got to the part where Tara intervened and beat the 
two men up. Then he became vague, saying a group of customers from 
his casino stepped in, getting revenge on the assaulters. They left 
before he had time to notice their descriptions. All he saw was a 
large group of men, but thank the stars they'd intervened. Yes, he 
wanted the two men taken away. Let them sleep off their beating in 
a jail cell. No, his bouncer couldn't make a statement right now, 
some of his other employees had taken him home. Yes, officer, 
anything we find out will be relayed directly to you. Goodnight. 
     Nelson absently headed back for his office, his mind racing 
with the events of the evening. He couldn't believe any of the 
things he'd seen this amazing woman do, and he couldn't believe 
he'd just lied to the police to keep this whole thing a secret. 
Tara probably didn't need him to protect her, but the last thing he 
wanted right now was a lot of nosy questions from the police. He 
was just about to turn the doorknob to enter his office when the 
noises emanating from inside made him stop and listen. 
     He first heard some quiet rustlings. 
     Then a man's voice. "Oh.. Oh God. Oooooh.." It sounded like it 
was in agony. Dull moans. 
     Tara's voice. "Now was not the best time for you to wake up, 
little boy. Go back to sleep." 
     Whack. The sound of a fist slamming into a face. 
     A man's scream of pain. "Unnn-NNH! Oooohhh.." 
     Silence. Then back to the faint rustlings. 
     What the hell? Nelson thought. He quickly opened the door, 
then froze in place. An erection immediately sprung to life in his 
pants, despite his confusion. 
     Tara sat on the couch, the unconscious bouncer underneath her. 
In fact, she was sitting on his chest. At her feet sat her purse. 
Next to her on top of the bouncer was her pleated skirt. Instead of 
the skirt, the attractive blonde now wore a pair of silky black 
panties over her nylons. Their French cut emphasized the beginning 
of a very firm, tight set of buns. She sat with one leg crossed 
over the other, running her hands up her leg from her ankle over 
her shapely calf, past her knee, up her slim but well-muscled 
thigh, smoothing out her smooth, sheer, silky black pantyhose. 
     Nelson gaped. He couldn't tear his eyes off her. He was 
vaguely aware of the erection throbbing involuntarily underneath 
his fine dress pants. 
     Tara might have noticed it. Or she might not. "I got a run in 
my pantyhose fighting those two limpdicks," she explained. "I had 
to change them." 
     Nelson's breath came in small gasps, but he caught it enough 
to voice his thoughts. That she had the most incredibly arousing 
pair of legs he'd ever seen was what he was really thinking, but he 
decided he'd better keep that thought to himself, for fear of what 
she'd do to him. Instead he asked, "Uhhh.. what was that noise I 
heard?" 
     "Oh," Tara laughed. "Our little friend here decided to wake up 
while I was changing. I figured it wouldn't hurt him to snooze a 
while longer." 
     Nelson had to lean up against the door as he closed it behind 
him. As he stared at her, Tara crossed her other leg over and 
repeated her previous ritual. Starting at her ankle, she brushed 
her hands all the way up her leg, smoothing out the sheer nylon on 
her shapely leg. Nelson was transfixed. "I love how sheer these 
pantyhose are, but they just run so damn easily," she commented. 
"I'll probably go through at least two pairs every time I get into 
a fight." Nelson just stared, awestruck by her seductive display. 
     It wasn't over yet. By the time her hands had reached the top 
of her thigh, she looked down. Keeping her leg straight out, she 
rotated her ankle, her sexy shoe glinting in the light. "Look at 
that!" Tara exclaimed. "I warned that little wimp about getting his 
blood on my shoes. Every time I kicked his face he bled on me! Do 
you have any idea how hard it is to keep these shoes polished and 
shiny?" 
     Nelson didn't answer. He was still drinking in this arousing 
leg show she was giving him. For a moment he had the overwhelming 
desire to clean her shoes for her. With his tongue. He would lick 
her shoes clean, until they sparkled. He wanted to abase himself 
before this blonde goddess. Then his nature caught up with him. And 
he was terrified of her, of what her strong female muscles could do 
to him. If she was able to knock those two thugs out and carry the 
large, limp form of the bouncer so effortlessly, she could rip a 
little man like him apart without even thinking about it. The 
thought of her suddenly filled him with fear. 
     He kept his eyes down, moved over to his desk, sat down as 
quickly and quietly as he could. He kept his eyes focussed 
inordinately on his hands, yet he couldn't help taking little, 
timid glances up at her. She sat with her legs crossed, relaxed and 
comfortable, still sitting on the sleeping bouncer, one of the 
three men she'd knocked cold. 
     When he worked up the courage he spoke. "W.. we have some more 
things to talk about," he stated weakly. 
     "More important than my shoes and pantyhose?" Tara laughed. 
"Okay, what?" 
     "I just lied to the police about what happened." 
     "What did you tell them?" 
     "I.. I didn't tell them you beat those two men up." 
     "Why not?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice. 
     "Because they'd go after you. What happens if those two men 
want to press charges? They could charge you with assault." 
     Tara's derisive laughter echoed around the office, then 
subsided into bemused giggling before she spoke again. "Those two 
aren't going to charge me with anything. To charge me, they have to 
admit to the cops that two big, strong, healthy men got beaten up 
and knocked senseless by a girl. You think they're gonna have the 
guts to do that?" 
     "Oh. No, I guess not. I still can't believe it myself," Nelson 
admitted. 
     Tara's smile seemed to light up the room. "Well, believe it. 
Every bruise, every cut on their pathetic little male bodies, I 
gave to them. It was a nice little workout. We have something else 
to discuss as well." 
     "What?" 
     "Well, as far as I can tell, this wimp I'm sitting on isn't 
really much of a bouncer. He allowed himself to get jumped and 
beaten. He didn't even give them a challenge. You need to replace 
him. I want his job." 
     Nelson tried to rope in his racing mind and make it work in a 
discernible manner. He knew what she was capable of. He knew he was 
in awe of her, and at the same time he knew he was frightened of 
her. But would anyone else be, at first glance? Could he take the 
chance? 
     "Wh.. what are your qualifications?" he asked timidly. 
     Tara began a long story. When she was younger, she'd lived in 
a tough part of town. You needed to know how to fight just to 
survive where she'd come from, and she found she was better at it 
than most. Plus she enjoyed it. She loved the irony of a big, 
strong man, who would never think of a woman as a threat, being 
beaten to a pulp by a gorgeous blonde girl. She enjoyed destroying 
these men, mind and body. Soon she had won herself a reputation as 
one of the toughest fighters on the street, and she ran with some 
of the toughest gangs. But inevitably she wanted out. She'd had 
brushes with the law, nothing serious. After all, none of the men 
she'd beaten up wanted to admit a girl had done it to them.  
     She felt her life spiralling down around her. She was afraid 
if she did nothing, she'd be on the streets the rest of her life. 
So she did her best to improve herself. She learned the skills 
necessary to fit into the rest of the world, with help from 
counsellors. She learned patience, self-control. And she went 
looking for work, and wound up here, serving drinks. It was a 
humiliating job for her, having to serve these idiot men alcohol, 
but she needed the work, and the money. Under no circumstances 
would she go back to her old life. 
     But Tara still felt part of her old life beckoning. She found 
she missed the thrills she got fighting men. She kept in shape, and 
kept her skills as finely honed as she could, but she wanted to use 
them. She considered that she had two natural gifts in life, her 
looks, and her fighting skills. She wanted to use both of them to 
her advantage. She felt with the bouncer position, she could. 
     "That's why I was happy with the fight tonight," Tara was 
finishing. "It's always nice for a girl to know she hasn't lost her 
touch." She giggled. 
     Nelson had drank all this information in and was trying to 
make sense of it all. "We.. well, I'm just concerned about a couple 
of things," he managed to stammer. "For one thing, you never know 
what might come up as a bouncer.." 
     Tara sat up straight on the still-sleeping bouncer and 
interrupted. "You should have told this little boy that," she said. 
"He wasn't ready, and he paid for that. I was ready. One of those 
guys drew a knife on me. I know how to deal with that, and I did. 
You saw the results." She paused, studying his quizzical face with 
her deep blue eyes. "Mr. Nelson, I've fought men most of my life. 
I've fought men one-on-one. I've fought gangs of men. I know how to 
deal with an armed man. I've been able to outfight men who thought 
their martial arts knowledge could protect them from me." She 
paused again, waiting for Nelson to make eye contact with her 
before she continued. "I'm not afraid of any man. I can fight any 
man or group of men you put in front of me, right now, and I'll 
win. A few punches and kicks from me and they'll be in the same 
shape as those men outside. I have yet to meet a man who can beat 
me barehanded. They all wind up begging me to stop hurting them." 
Another short pause as she stared into Nelson's perplexed face. 
"I'm the right choice for this job," Tara concluded. 
     Nelson still couldn't get his mind working clearly, but he was 
becoming obviously more comfortable with the idea. "I believe you.. 
b.. but there's more to the bouncer job than just fighting every 
male customer here," he added timidly, but with growing confidence 
as his dreams began to come back to him. "I started this casino as 
the product of my lifelong dream. I want it to work, to be a 
popular place. I.. I know if any man starts trouble here, you can 
deal with him. But I don't want brawls taking place here every 
night. I have to know you'll be capable of dealing with a situation 
without having to resort to using your fists every time." 
     Tara seemed surprised at Nelson's sudden display of backbone, 
and slightly disappointed at what he was saying for a second. But 
it didn't last. "Okay," she agreed. "What do you want me to do?" 
     Nelson considered for a moment. "Come back tomorrow, before 
your usual shift starts. I want to see how you deal with a certain 
situation. If I like it, you'll be my new bouncer." 
     Tara smiled with delight. "You're on," she said, then stood, 
took her skirt up and put it back on. She then seemed to remember 
she had been sitting that whole time on an unconscious man. "What 
do you want done with Sleeping Beauty? Should I take him out to the 
bar?" 
     Nelson wouldn't have minded watching her display her awesome 
strength again by having her carry the hulking man around, but no, 
now wasn't the time. "No, leave him here.. I have to tell him 
what's going on." 
     Tara smiled and left. "See you tomorrow," she said as she 
closed the office door behind her. Inside, Nelson tried to keep 
from fainting. He had no idea how he managed to summon up enough 
courage to tell her he wanted her to show restraint. It was like 
telling a tiger not to eat you. His hands trembled terribly as he 
went to pour himself a drink. 
     When Jackson, the soon-to-be-unemployed bouncer, woke up, he 
was in quite a state. He kept babbling something about some girl 
getting in a cheap shot on him when he least expected it. He had 
the situation well in hand until then. Nelson calmed him down and 
had the bartender drive him home, with orders to take the next few 
days off. Nelson could worry about how to tell him he was being 
replaced later, after tomorrow, when he'd know for certain if he 
was to be replaced. 
 
     The next day, Nelson was sitting at the desk in his office 
when the knock came at the door. He knew who it was. This time, 
he'd prepared himself with a good, stiff drink. "Come in," he said. 
     Tara entered and shut the door behind her and smiled at him. 
"I took the opportunity to have my uniform changed a bit," she 
grinned, turning around gracefully for him. The uniform she now 
wore was very similar to the one she'd worn last night, except the 
short pleated skirt was gone. Instead, she wore a similar pair of 
panties to the ones she'd had on last night, except they went up, 
disappearing underneath her shirt and jacket. The high cut of the 
panties still his the start of her pantyhose and covered her 
splendid, shapely buns, barely. "As a bouncer, I don't think I need 
a skirt, don't you agree? It'd just get in the way if I have to 
kick some guy in the face," she said. He also noticed her high 
heels had been cleaned, returned to their original glossy shine, 
all hints of blood removed. "Well, what do you think?" Tara asked. 
     Nelson fumbled around for words. He was terrified of what 
might happen if he said the wrong words. Especially if he offended 
her, and if he said what he was actually thinking he wasn't sure if 
she would be offended. "Y.. you look fine," he finally blurted out, 
convinced there was nothing in that to set her off. She smiled, so 
evidently he was right.  
     Nelson stood clumsily and began escorting her out to the bar. 
Standing next to her didn't really help his feelings of 
intimidation much, since he practically had to strain his neck 
looking up to make eye contact with her. "See that man at the bar? 
Th.. the one with the short brown hair," he stammered. 
     "Right," Tara acknowledged. Even though it was the middle of 
the day, he was evidently rather drunk. He talked in a very loud 
voice to a bored-looking bartender. 
     "I.. I want you to throw him out," Nelson instructed. Tara 
smiled, until Nelson finished his statement. "Uh.. and remember, no 
violence. I don't want my casino wrecked in any brawls while you're 
working, and I don't want to have to pay to have blood cleaned off 
the pavement outside. If you can't make people like him leave 
without a fight, I can't use you as a bouncer." Nelson's hands 
shook as he made his assertions, so he quickly shoved them into his 
pockets. 
     Tara nodded at him. "You got it, boss," she said, then walked 
over, behind the drunk. 
     The drunk sat, laughing, slurring words at the bartender, when 
he suddenly felt a firm, muscled hand clamp on his shoulder. He 
looked behind him, into Tara's steely blue eyes. "Oh look, issa 
waitress," he grinned. "Gemme 'nother drink." 
     "You've had enough," Tara told him quietly. "The bartender can 
call you a cab if you want. You're leaving." 
     "Nossense, I'm havin' fun here," the drunk man spat. "You 
gonna gemme more drinks or what?" 
     "I'm not a waitress." 
     "Oh? Wha' are you, then?" 
     "I'm the bouncer." 
     The drunk man laughed for a good few seconds. "I don' care if 
yer the Queen of Ing.. Ingyland. Gemme more booze!" His hand 
reached drunkenly towards the glass of whiskey he had waiting on 
the bar. 
     Before he could reach it, Tara's other hand closed 
authoritatively on his wrist and squeezed. "I said, you're leaving. 
Come with me," she told him, not raising her voice. 
     "Come on," the drunk slurred, looking at the girl with blurred 
eyes. "I ain't leavin', honey.. s' no way you can make me." Then he 
winced. "Oooowww.. you're crushing my wrist.." 
     Tara's grip on his wrist was tightening even as she spoke. 
"Feel that?" she asked. "I could break your arm if I wanted to. Now 
listen to me." The drunk's eyes focussed for the first time, 
directly on Tara's eyes as they bored straight into his. Their eyes 
locked, she continued. "I could break your arm, but I'm not going 
to. Let me tell you a couple of things. I'm the bouncer here. Yes, 
I'm female, but I earned my job. If you doubt that, I can keep 
crushing your arm. Do you think I couldn't break it?" 
     The drunk's face was twisted with the pain of her holds on his 
arm and his shoulder, which she had also tightened. "No.." he 
gasped. 
     "I could also pull your arm right out of its socket, but I 
won't do that either. For now. If you cooperate. We're going to go 
outside. Let me tell you what will happen if you give me any 
trouble. I won't break your arm, or any other limb. And you won't 
hurt me, either. What will happen is that I will beat you to a 
pulp. I will punch you and kick you until you're knocked out." The 
intensity in Tara's eyes had kept the drunk's fixed on them. Her 
serious expression told him she was not to be taken lightly or 
trifled with.  
     She continued. "Look at my hands. If I were to make them into 
fists and hit you with them, you would feel more pain than you've 
ever felt in your life. Do you doubt that?" Her grip on him 
tightened even further, to the extent that he was virtually 
incapacitated by the pain.  
     "No... ma'am," he stuttered. 
     "Do you want me to do that?" 
     "No.. please." 
     "Are you going to give me any trouble?" 
     "No.. just please, let me go.." 
     "Are you leaving?" 
     "Yes.. aaahhh.." The man groaned under her pressure. 
     "Good," Tara smiled down at him for the first time since the 
confrontation began. "Shall we?" She practically lifted the drunk 
to his feet by herself, and began calmly, slowly but steadily, 
escorting him to the exit. He didn't struggle against her hold. The 
consequences of that would be too horrible for him to imagine. 
     Tara got the man outside, then returned in a couple of minutes 
to the nervous Nelson, smiling. "What a coincidence, there was a 
cab waiting for him outside," she laughed. "So what did you think?" 
     Nelson had no hesitation. "You're hired," he said. Now all he 
had to do was come up with a tactful way to tell Jackson he was 
being replaced by a blonde, amazon girl. He couldn't think of one 
offhand, but he would.