Velvet's New "Maid"

Sometimes, seeking revenge can be like a badly thrown boomerang; it can hit the user in the face.

(New Readers: For more details, please read "Susan's Bad Day," and "Susan's Bad Day, Part Two. It'll make things a little less confusing.)

He was running as fast as he can, as hard as he can, but he couldn't lose the figure that was steadily walking after him. After running for what seemed an eternity, his chest was heaving from the activity, he finally reached his car in the parking lot. He reached for his keys from his pocket, looked up ' and there was the figure, not much further than five feet away from him. He ran to the other side of his car and tried to open the passenger side door. He succeeded, but a hand came from nowhere and shut the door. He ran again to the other side of the car. The figure pursued him, not before delivering a kick to the car door that could've offered him an escape. The figure chased him around the car several times - he was running, but the figure was walking - when he finally stopped at the passenger side door, and saw that it was now caved in, the point of impact baring the shape of a human bare foot. As he stood there in shock and horror, the figure pushed him to the ground. As he looked up, he could see clearly the figure's true form, a beautiful blonde woman in a red hooded sweatshirt, a tank top shirt, blue jean shorts, and barefoot. After a long moment, she spoke.

"One punch, and I could break your jaw, your nose, or your ribs. That's with just my bare fists. Just imagine what my feet can do. If I haven't already, I can make you regret the day you ever crossed me or my boyfriend."

"I'm sorry," the man pleaded. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"Sorry, that's not good enough," the woman said. "This time you have to pay the price."

With that, she grabbed the front of his shirt with her left hand, and pulled him up to a standing position, while her right hand was cocked and ready. The man begged and pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears as she thrust her fist towards his face.

"No, no, NOOOO!" he said as he saw the massive feminine fist head toward his face, getting larger and larger in his view before impact.

Brian Decker woke up from his nightmare drenched in sweat.

It has been a year since the incident occurred that never failed to haunt Brian's dreams. He executed a plan that if it was successful, would've given him the woman of his dreams, Susan Davidson. The plan was to break up Susan's relationship with her fianc#e, David Reynolds, then arrange it to where she would be in mortal danger, and have no choice but to run to him; where he would go out of his way to take care of her and in the process make her his. Instead, their relationship became stronger than ever, several of his henchmen were in mortal danger when they encountered her, half of them sent to the hospital, and he was a heartbeat away from joining them. Instead, she exercised "mercy,' and left him untouched. However, she gave him the warning of what she'll do to him if he ever thought about getting between her and David again. He forgot to take into consideration, almost to his peril, that Susan was a bodybuilder and a deadly kickboxer.

As for the results, Brian didn't become the laughing stock of the university, but he might as well have. He received comments from friends, strangers, and co-workers alike, not about him being a man and not standing up for himself, but about him being out of his mind for taking her on in the first place. He was starting to think that his name was changed to "Lucky,' because people would come up to him and say, "lucky she didn't break your neck," or "Lucky you didn't get a scratch," or "Lucky you're still alive, man."

He moved to a different division of the company where he was an intern to avoid any more criticism. Oddly enough, out of all the people at his former division, David was the one civil to him, acting as if nothing ever happened. One day, his former supervisor came to him and said, "Out of all the women who roam this campus, you have to try to get a fellow workers' girlfriend? And not just any girlfriend, but one who can kick your head off in the blink of an eye? That's stupid, man, that's just plain stupid."

Such criticism was rarely given to Brian Decker. He was a 5'11 man of an average build, with fair skin and short brown hair and pampered good looks, was a "big fish in a little pond" in his hometown. Being the son of the wealthiest family in his hometown, he exalted in the life that a man with means can have, which didn't necessarily translate very well since he started attending college in this town; and especially as far as attaining what he thought would be the woman of his dreams.

Out of the five henchmen he used during that operation, three of them quit. The three in particular were the ones who engaged Susan in the woods on that fateful day. One ended up with a broken finger; another ended up with his leg dislocated from his hip. He was able to walk normally again, but he was scared stiff for months afterwards. The third one, well somewhere between his time at the hospital, the physical therapist, and the dentist, he told Brian that the three of them never want to see him or Susan again. His remaining two henchmen remained loyal, but that was only on the condition that they aren't sent against Susan again.

As fast as the word spread among the men on campus, it traveled as fast if not faster among the women. Whereas he used to just boast his bank account to make the women swoon, he now gets questions like, "aren't you the one that got beat up by that girl?" Even after making the correction that Susan did not beat him up, any chance of getting a decent date on campus was gone, unless he went back to his hometown for a date with either the local females or somewhere else. This whole affair has ruined his life, he thought. Not the whole affair, but Susan Davidson has ruined his life.

He vowed revenge.

But how? Susan would put him in traction or worse if he attempted to get her. None of his henchmen will have anything to do with her. Even the most chauvinistic of his hired help had told him that this is a woman who is serious and not to be messed with. Just as well, none of them has any martial arts training '

That's it! He should have known better than to send common thugs after an expert kickboxer. But what if he sent an accomplished martial artist or artists after her to get the job done? That could do it! If his memory serves correctly, there are several martial arts studios and gyms in town other than the one Susan works out at. Grabbing a phone book and a sheet of paper, he started listing down the names and locations of each one in town. After about 20 minutes, he realized it was still the middle of the night and he should get some sleep. After his classes, he'll start his search for a formidable enough warrior to take even the mighty Susan Davidson down.

The next day, Brian started his tour of the assorted gyms and dojos in the city. He was careful not to go anywhere near the gym where Susan regularly worked out. That would be potential suicide. During his visits, he posed as a potential customer, so he could watch for any future henchmen without looking suspicious. After he visited several places, he came to the realization that finding a possible opponent for Susan would not be an easy task. Brian never claimed to be a martial arts expert, but from what he saw of some of the places he visited at that point, there wasn't anyone, instructors and black belts included, who would be a match for her. They either didn't have enough speed, power, skill, or brains necessary to stand up to her. Moreover, upon casual conversation, Susan's name is revered among some of the students. He'll have to look hard for a place where Susan is not considered a local celebrity.

He thought he found it at a men's gym located on the other side of town. It was there that he saw he a mean looking boxer named Tony. As he was watching Tony workout and spar, he thought this could be the person he was looking for. He found out that Tony was an amateur boxer with a record of 20 wins and three losses; one of the best fighters the gym has. Brian smiled to himself. This man will be perfect.

When Tony had a spare moment, Brian asked if he could talk to him after his workout. Tony agreed, and Brian took the opportunity to talk subtly to the owner of the gym about how many fighters train there. If this worked out, the gym could be a new place to groom potential henchmen if the need arises, especially since he had three quit on him. After Tony finished, he met up with Brian, and they sat down on a bench outside the front of the gym.

After the customary formalities, Brian decided to get to the point.

"How's the funding concerning your boxing career?" Brian asked.

"I have a few sponsors. Not a lot, but it keeps me going. Why you ask?" Tony asked.

"I can give you all the financial support you need and more."

"You have money?"

"Plenty of it. My parents run a small corporation back home, of which I will be the president one-day. So yeah, I have money."

Tony's eyes twinkled. He thought about it for a moment. He did not fit the stereotype of the punch-drunk fighter who did no thinking except for his fists and his manager. In addition, he also majored in Communications at school. Finally, he said, "What's the catch?"

Brian leaned back, a little surprised at the man's perception. Paid muscle may be a little more intelligent these days. "I just need you to do me a little favor."

"What's his name?" Tony asked.

"What's that?" Brian said.

"I said, what's his name? You think you're the first person who comes up to people like me and ask them who they want beaten up? It happens all the time."

"Does that mean you won't do it?"

"It doesn't mean anything. I didn't say I won't do it, but I'm not going to just jump on some dude just because you said so. I'm also not going to bust somebody up without a good reason. I'm not some thug off the street, you know."

Brian flinched a little. Up until this moment, the place where he got his henchmen was off the street.

"So before you tell me more about this "little favor,'" Tony continued, "what is his name?"

"Susan Davidson," Brian said.

Tony paused, and looked at Brian closely, like the man had a third eye growing out of his forehead. Then after a few long moments, he sat back on the bench, his gaze still on Brian, and laughed.

"She's going to kick your butt," he said.

"What?" Brian said, a little confused.

"I thought something about you was a little familiar," Tony said, still laughing.

"But we never met before today."

"You see, we boxers have what you would call a close-knit community. When-"

"But you're a regular boxer. She's a kickboxer-"

"Boxing, kickboxing, it's still boxing. Anyway, when stories like this pop up, the whole ring community hears about it. We still talk about what she did to your car."

Brian waited until Tony's laughing slowed to a dull giggle, then asked him, "Will you consider taking her on, then?"

"Are you nuts? She'd kill me! In fact, no one here in his or her right mind would even entertain the idea of taking her on. This isn't her gym, but here she's loved, respected, and even feared among us fighters."

"B-but she's just a woman," Brian protested.

"You want to go up to her and tell her that?" Tony said. "I guess not, since you're coming to people like me to do your dirty work for you. Have you ever seen her box?"

"No."

"You had the hots for her, and you never seen her box. You're a real piece of work, you know that? Anyway, you have heard of Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali, haven't you?"

"Yeah. I've seen tapes of their fights, what's your point?"

"Muhammad Ali, he was graceful; he would dance on his feet and dare you to hit him, then when you wonder why you missed, he'd pop you. Tyson on the other hand, was like a Mack truck, he'd just come and slug you two or three times, and you'd go boom. Ali had grace, Tyson had power. Now just picture someone with a little bit of the grace of Ali, and a lot of the power of Tyson. You follow me?"

"I think so."

"When she would get into a ring with an opponent ' that's a trained fighter, not those goofballs of yours that she put in the hospital ' she would dance around enough to avoid getting hit, but she would start by giving them that stare that could cut through iron. I'm sure you're familiar with that. Then she would start stalking the other fighter around the ring. I've seen some fighters practically run when she went after them. When she got them in her sights, that's when she strikes, and I'm not talking about the sting of a bee, either. I'm talking about the whack of a sledgehammer. She won most of her fights by knockout. Those who weren't knocked out wished they were after being in the ring with her."

"Wished they were?"

"Yeah, busted ribs, busted jaw, and that's only if she punches you. Using her feet, she can almost kick your head off. If you send any more goons after her, you had better be ready to pay their hospital bill too. How soon is that one guy getting out, by the way?"

"I don't know," Brian said.

"One more thing I gotta say about that lady, she has class," Tony said.

"Class?"

"Yeah, class. If it was me, I would waste no time putting you in the hospital beside your friend."

"You're, you're not going to tell her, are you?"

Tony looked at Brian for a few seconds, and then laughed again. "No, I'm not going to tell her, and you should pay me for that. But my advice for you is to forget about her and go after some mousy girl, something more your speed. You should do it now, while you're still walking. Catch you later."

Tony picked up his gym bag, and walked off towards his car.

What a wimp, Brian thought, though he would never say it to Tony's face. He then decided to avoid the gyms entirely and focus on the martial arts studios. They can't be in the same "community' as the boxers are. There's too many of them to keep track of each other.

After visiting a few different places, he finally stopped at a new dojo that specialized in judo. The name caught his attention, "The Iron Foot.'

"The Iron Foot?" Brian said aloud, before he realized it.

"The name came from the instructor's fianc#e," a voice said from behind him. It was a woman of average height, about 5'5, short hair in two blonde pony tails, and wearing what could be described as designer sweats, her sweatshirt and sweatpants bearing the name of some Italian designer he never heard of. She also had the tendency to chew and smack her gum constantly. "He was describing her."

I hope she takes that gum out before they get started, Brian thought. That noise is getting on my nerves. Managing to keep the gum smacking from driving him nuts, he asked, "Why that name? Because she can break bricks and boards with her feet?"

"I don't know about all that," the woman said, "he gave that name because almost no one has seen the instructor wear any shoes. You know, like that one woman who beat up all those guys-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. So, is your instructor pretty good?"

"Oh, I think she's one of the best! I went to one of her self-defense classes at the school gym, and she doesn't waste any time. Not only did she teach me self-defense, she also taught me self-respect and to have a proper attitude. Heh, you should've seen me before."

"Well, I'd better check this out," Brian said, heading for the front door.

"You won't be disappointed," the woman said as she walked toward the locker rooms, her gum smacking, and the sound of her flip-flops making an obscene duet.

Before the classes started, Brian met with the instructor, a friendly woman who went by the name Janelle. She had height and a build similar to Susan; slim, and despite the gi that covered her body, he could tell that she had rather powerful muscles underneath. She had short brown hair that hung to her shoulders, and carried a delightful smile that always seemed to be highlighted on her oval face. Brian also sensed that beneath that smiling face, there was the face of a woman who was confident enough and powerful enough to get whatever she wanted. Though he wouldn't admit it, she scared him.

"So you're the Iron Foot?" Brian asked.

Janelle laughed. "Yeah, I get questions about that every week. Anyway, I just wanted to personally welcome you. We're a new place, but I assure you that you'll get the same, if not better quality, of the other martial arts centers in this town. How did you find us?"

"I was in this neck of the woods, and I saw it. Plus, one of your students told me about where the name came from and gave you her personal seal of approval. She had blonde hair in ponytails and chews gum a lot."

"Oh, Hot Thang! She was one of my students from my self-defense classes who came with me when I decided to open this place. I could tell you what she was like when we first met, but I don't want to bore you with that. Are you thinking of joining, or are you an observer?"

"Right now, I'm just observing," Brian lied. "I don't even know if judo is up my alley, or it should be karate."

"Well nothing is wrong with checking things out. Hopefully, you'll enjoy what you see." Janelle turned and walked to the front of the studio to start her class.

"Yeah, I'm sure I will," Brian said to himself as he watched Janelle's legs. He never considered himself a "leg man,' but he could appreciate what he was able to see of the judo instructor's legs, down to the black toenail polish she wore on her feet. He pondered what it would take to make her forget about her fianc#e, but concerning recent events, these female martial artists seem to be rather protective about their men. Besides, if she was as powerful as she looked, she'd break him in two. Better leave that alone.

Janelle suddenly clapping her hands, prompting the students to come forward and to kneel down in front of her snapped him out of his revelry. As she led them through their drills, he noticed the majority of the women and the few men who were in this class had well-developed muscles, like a small army of bodybuilders were taking this class. Janelle must include weight lifting in their daily regiment.

After 25 minutes, Brian reminded himself what he was there for. The movements of the judoka were like poetry in motion; more like a well-choreographed dance or a scene from an action movie more than one person trying to throw the other on their backs. Few moves were wasted. Janelle taught her students well. It shouldn't be too much trouble at these classes to find a suitable candidate, recruit him or her for his particular purpose, then pay them handsomely for the trouble after the mission was accomplished. Then his revenge will be satisfied.

It didn't take long until he found who he was looking for. He set his eyes on a woman with chocolate brown skin, with a good height of 5'9 or 5'10. She wore her short black hair in a short, tight cut on her scalp, which brought out the majestic and attractive features on her face. Besides being easy on the eyes, Brian noticed a fierce, almost feral intensity as she threw her opponents on the mat while she sparred, and she seemed to take them out with ease. This, Brian thought, is the person I'm looking for.

After the class was over, Brian thanked Janelle, and then went outside the studio to wait for hopefully his newest addition to his group of henchmen. As he got outside and waited, he noticed the same interesting thing he saw when he came. The female students with the exception of a few weren't wearing shoes. Even though they changed into street clothes, shoes were the one thing that was missing.

What is it in this town with these women and no shoes? Brian thought. Maybe Susan started a fashion statement in this town. Soon, he saw the woman he was looking for come out of the studio, also wearing no shoes with her red and yellow sweat clothes.

Time to pour on the charm, he thought as he approached her. After exchanging the standard pleasantries and complements that come with small talk, Brian asked her if she had anything pressing for that evening. When she said no, he asked if she wanted to eat dinner at a nearby restaurant. After she said yes, he walked her to her car, then walked over to his, a broad smile on his face.

"Yes, I still got it," he said to himself.

At the restaurant (which was apparently barefoot friendly, judging from the number of shoeless customers who ate there after class), Brian and his newfound lady-friend sat at a booth and took some time to get acquainted. The woman's name was Velvet Jones, a Political Science major at the university. She said she wasn't sure what career avenue she'll take after graduation, but graduation is still a little ways off, so there was no need to worry about it. She then stretched her feet out, so they rested right besides Brian seated across from her. He noticed her toenails were painted red and yellow, like her outfit.

She gave him a flirting look with her eyes, leaned back in her seat, smiled and asked, "So what interest do you have in little old me?"

Brian had a little difficulty concentrating for a moment. He wished this was a date, and not business, but perhaps he would be able to do both later. Still, there's no need to rush. "You were great in class tonight. You must have been involved in judo for a few years."

"Thank you. I started taking it up when I started school here. I found I loved it, and started working my way to a black belt, which I received last year. A year and a half ago, I ran into Janelle, who encouraged me to mix my judo with some weight lifting, and the rest as they say, is history. I'm also a competitive person, and I don't see the point of competing if you're not going to try to win."

"I find that works in business too," Brian said, noticing how much expression Velvet puts into her eyes as well as her lips and everything else on her face when she talks. "A black belt. So that would put you up with your instructor, then?"

"No, Janelle is several degrees higher than I," she said. "But I try to run a close second." At that, she wiggled her toes, which prompted Brian for his next question.

"What's the deal with the lack of shoes? I mean, I understand judo and everything, but class is over. It looks like some of you might go back for another class."

"That's my instructor's fault," Velvet laughed. "There's only a handful of people I know who's ever seen her wear shoes of any kind. Six months ago, a few of us tried it, as a practical joke, and to see what the big deal was. It turned out we like it. Now we go barefoot to class, to practice, to eat, to the movies, it's fun. You should try it sometime."

"I think I'll stick with good old Nike," Brian said. "Look, I have a need for your skills, and I'd like to tell you more about it, but at someplace a little more private. Interested?"

"Yes, I would. How about we meet at my place around six tomorrow?"

"Sounds great."

Velvet tore off a piece of one of the paper place mats and wrote down her address, along with her phone number in case something comes up. Brian takes it, and both people gave their farewells and left the restaurant. Brian went to his car walking on air. Perhaps after all of this business with Susan is settled, he'll have a chance to be with the victor, and taste the fruits of Velvet, er, of victory. He slept peacefully for the first time in a long while that night.

The next day couldn't go by fast enough for Brian. It has been a long time since he last found a girl who made him feel this happy. Susan was the last one, but the difference was she never gave him the time of day. In fact, he started to wonder after meeting Velvet, why go through this attempt at vengeance at all? Why couldn't he just pursue this possible relationship and whatever happened with Susan; well, why not just let it go?

The truth was, despite the fact that Velvet may have set his heart on fire; Susan was the one who embarrassed him, threatened him, and around some circles at school, nearly made him a laughingstock. She must pay. Even if Velvet won't be the messenger of justice he's seeking, that's no problem, he can find another enforcer and still date Velvet. It's just that she seemed to have the best of both worlds, a beautiful girl who also has the capability to kick Susan's butt. Moreover, the thought of having a girl that would fight for him even excited him further.

Brian arrived at Velvet's apartment ten minutes early. He tried to delay himself as much as he could, but it was all he could do not to arrive at her place any earlier. He figured he would just sit on the outside steps to her place for ten more minutes, and then come in. As soon as he sat down, he saw a familiar figure jogging towards him. It was Velvet, dressed in a plain white tee shirt and black running shorts. She again was barefoot, which gave Brian the opportunity to see her shapely and sharply defined leg muscles start from the arches of her feet on up to the top of her thighs not obstructed by her shorts. Her arms were far from being sticks themselves, being well toned. Her figure was not like the figure of a supermodel (thin, almost anorexic), but the figure of a powerful athlete. The whole package was covered with a light sheen of sweat; just enough to have the clothes cling to her body to display her shape even further.

It was then at that moment that Brian found out why he wasn't interested in dating any girls back in his hometown. Their idea of physical fitness was going to the mall every week. The muscles on these athletic women seem to bring out everything a woman truly is, her grace, her power, her sensuality her-

It was also at that moment that Brian realized he was staring at Velvet for the last ten seconds like a piece of meat and shook himself out of his daze. He managed to remember to give her the proper greeting.

"Hello Velvet. I apologize for getting here a little early. I just arrived a minute ago, and-"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Velvet said. "I just came back from jogging, so I'm running a little bit late."

Brian suddenly glanced down Velvet's legs. "You didn't wear any running shoes?"

"No, I always run barefoot. How do you think they ran before they invented shoes?"

"Well, I never thought of that."

"Don't feel bad, most people don't. Come on in, and I'll get you something to drink."

After Velvet opened the door to her apartment, Brian could see that it was nicely furnished, more furnished than he would expect from a college student. She must have either a nice job or parents who are well off, he thought to himself. Velvet directed him to a seat on her sofa, and handed him the remote to her television. Then she went to the kitchen and peered through her refrigerator.

"I have a variety of soft drinks, but I don't have anything diet. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll take a 7UP# if you have one. No diet drinks?"

"No, why should I have them? I'm not on a diet," Velvet laughed as she gave Brian a drink. "I'm going to take a quick shower and change. I'll be back in about ten minutes."

"Not a problem," Brian said as he leaned back in his seat. Why should she have a diet drink? A woman can't keep that type of meat on her bones by starving herself to death half the time. That makes sense. He turned on the TV and watched the ninth inning of a baseball game, when he realized Velvet had re-entered the living room. She had changed into a white tank top covered by an unbuttoned, lightweight, light blue denim shirt, along with a pair of faded blue jeans with the straight legs stopping an inch before they reach the ankle. She motioned Brian to the dining room table, where she had a drink of her own.

Crossing her legs, she smiled at Brian and asked, "So, tell me about this little "favor' you want me to do for you."

"Okay," Brian said, and relayed his version of what happened to him several months ago. He made it a point before he started his tour of the fighting studios to present a story that didn't present him as the party at fault, but as a victim of a demented stalker who just happened to have hands and feet that could be registered as deadly weapons. His henchmen were his friends who tried to protect him, and paid the price for their friendship. Now there was no one he could turn to who could protect him from the clutches of this evil woman, so he went from dojo to dojo in search of someone who can take Susan head on, and make her pay for the error of her ways.

Velvet appeared to be taking this in with understanding, compassion, and more than a little affection. During the middle of Brian's story, Velvet's bare foot moved under one of Brian's pant legs, brushing lightly against his leg. She then gave a small grin, and said to him in a soft voice, almost a whisper, "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you. Go on with your story." The lightning bolt that shot through Brian's system at that moment almost made him forget his story, his name, and anything else.

After he finished, Brian did his best imitation of a man on his last rope, and asked Velvet, "Are you sure you could do this? I would understand completely if you don't want to."

Velvet reached out and placed her hand on top of his. "So this woman stalked you, beat up your friends, and threatened to beat you within an inch of your life?"

Brian nodded his head. "Yeah."

"And what was her name again?"

"Susan Davidson. So does that mean you're going to do it?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"No, that means I get to kick your butt," Velvet said as she rose from the table.

Brian was taken aback. "What?"

"I knew who you were when you came in the dojo. I knew you were up to something when you watched us, and when you later contacted me. I just played my hand until you showed me what it was."

Brian, trying to salvage his cause, said, "Do you know Susan?"

"Know her? Her and I are good friends. In fact, I taught her a little bit of what she knows. Remember that throw she gave one of your guys? I taught her that."

Realizing that his cause was now hopeless, Brian rose and started heading for the door. "I'm sorry, I'll just leave. I'll see you later."

"No, you're not going anywhere. There's a few things I'd like to tell you, and I have a "favor' of my own." Velvet circled around the table and started heading towards Brian.

"No, I'm leaving." Brian just had his hand on the doorknob when Velvet grabbed him around the waist and pulled him away. "Please let me go. I don't want to hurt you."

Velvet let go and started laughing. "Hurt me? If you could do that, you wouldn't be hiring people to do your dirty work, would you?"

Brian was angered by that remark, but decided not to comment and went to open the door, but Velvet grabbed him around the waist and pulled him away again.

"Come on, sugar, let me tell you a few things." She said.

Brian kept himself in rather good shape by performing aerobics three times a week. Though he didn't expect to be able to take Velvet on in a regular fight, he did figure he could stun her enough with one blow to make his getaway. He suddenly turned and using the momentum of his turn, landed a blow with his right hand to Velvet's stomach. That normally would send a person bending over or in a best-case scenario, falling to their knees. Normally. After he delivered his blow, Velvet looked down at the fist that just hit her stomach, then at the person who delivered it, with a wicked grin on her face, the same look she displayed when she sparred in class.

"That's all you got?" Velvet said, laughing once again. "My little kitten can hit harder than that, and she's a month old. This lesson is going to take a little longer than I thought."

She grabbed Brian's arms while he was still in disbelief, pulled him forward, and lifted him up slightly. While he was moving forward and off balance, Velvet took her left foot and swept his right foot from under him. The next thing Brian knew, he was on the floor of the apartment, look up at Velvet, who had her arms crossed.

"That move is known as a okuriashi harai or "foot sweep.' I believe there's around 95 different types of throws in judo alone, but I don't think I have the time to teach all of them to you. Actually, I want to tell you why I'm being so easy on you," Velvet said. She made no move to attack Brian, until he slowly rose to his feet.

"You know what's the best part about judo?" Velvet asked.

As he got up, Brian realized that Velvet was standing close to him, and tried to push her away. Velvet grabbed his right arm with her left hand, put her right hand lightly on his back, and spun around, pressing her right hip against his groin. She lifted Brian onto her hips and suddenly rotated, throwing the man forward over her body and onto the ground again. This time, Brian found himself with his breath knocked out of him and seeing a few stars.

"It's not the throws, though that's a fun part of it," Velvet said.

For what seemed like forever, Brian slowly tried to get up. Why couldn't these women be like what he had back home? All he would have to do is wave some money around, and they would behave. How did this town end up with all these super-powered women that can break a man in two as well as look at him? This is insane!

When he got on all fours, Velvet straddled him and grabbed his right arm.

"No the fun part of judo is the grappling, otherwise known as "groundwork,' Velvet whispered in Brian's ear. She then sat on Brian's back, then leaned back, holding on to his right arm. Brian was flipped over on his back from Velvet's movement, while she now had his right arm between her legs. He was starting to feel more than a little discomfort from his right arm joint.

"You are now in what is called a juji gatame, or cross arm lock," she said. "Now that I have your attention, let me tell you how lucky you are. The kickboxing that Susan practices is in the category known as a striking art. She uses kicks and punches to injure an opponent. Because of the nature of her art, she would have little choice than to beat you to a pulp, maim you for life, or worse. Are you listening to me?"

She jerked his arm slightly.

"Ah! Yes, yes, I'm listening!" Brian yelled.

"Good. Now the art that I practice, judo, and others, like where judo came from, like jiu-jitsu, are known as grappling arts. That means they are designed to control an opponent. That means I can just stun you with a simple throw or I can put you in a hold and turn on the heat, like so."

Velvet started pulling Brian's arm back slowly, and suddenly Brian started to suffer the most excruciating pain he had ever known. He wasted no time screaming and begging for mercy while his right arm was being pulled out of his socket. Then suddenly, the pain stopped, replaced by a mild discomfort.

"So you see, I can make things either uncomfortable or painful. It comes in handy when you want to teach someone a lesson, and you still want them conscious."

"Yes, yes, I see," Brian said. "Can I go now?"

"No Brian, I like holding your hand," Velvet said, taking one of her feet and rubbing her bare sole on Brian's chest. "We're going to talk first. Where do you get the idea that because you have money, you can do anything you want? More than that, what makes you think you can take someone's girl away from her fianc#e? Are the girls like that where you come from?"

Brian said nothing.

"I asked you a question. That means I want an answer." Velvet tugged on his arm.

"Ah! No, I don't know, I mean yes, maybe,"

"I'll take that as an answer. So this woman said no to you, came one step from giving you the beating of your life, and you swear revenge. To tell you the truth, I should've took your money, then came up with some scheme to get you, but there probably wouldn't be anything left of you by the time Susan got finished. I wouldn't get a chance to get a piece of you."

"I would've paid you real well," Brian croaked.

"To attack one of my best friends? I don't need the money that bad. What, did you think I was poor? Oh, I got it, you think that because I'm black, you think I needed the money pretty bad, huh?

"No, that's not ' Ahhhhh! Yes I did, yes I did!" He confessed.

"My family is not poor, my parents are bankers," Velvet said. "Of course if you've gotten to know me instead of knowing how well I can beat people up, you would have known that already."

"Sorry," Brian whispered.

"What was that? Speak louder!"

"I'm sorry," Brian said, feeling a little humiliated.

"That's better," Velvet said. "By the way, since you've seen how nice my "poor' apartment is, I got to tell you that it is a real chore to keep clean. I'm looking for a maid."

"What has that to do with me?" Brian asked, just wishing she would let go of his arm.

"You can help me look. You might know someone who would fit the bill."

"I don't know of any maids," Brian said. "Can you let me go now?"

"Like I said, you can help me look," Velvet said. "In the meantime, I'm going to knock you out and throw you in the garbage."

"What?"

Velvet suddenly let go of his arm and straddled him again, her right hand grabbing the right (her left) collar of his windbreaker, while her left hand grabbed the left collar. She started pulling the ends of the collar towards each other.

"What are you doing?" Brian gasped, realizing to himself that was the very thing he was doing.

"This is known as a nami juji jime, or a cross handed strangle. It's pretty ingenious, you can choke a person to death, and they wouldn't be able to find the evidence. But don't worry, I'm not going to do that to you. What you did was worthy of a beating, not an execution. I'm applying just enough pressure to render you unconscious."

Brian tried to move his arms, his legs, something to help him get free, but Velvet had him pinned down thoroughly, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Soon, the room, the apartment, the very world seemed to get darker and darker. . .

"Farewell, Brian Decker," Velvet said, the last words he remembered before he fell under. "We will meet again."

When Velvet saw that Brian was unconscious, she pulled him up and draped him over her shoulder. Then she realized she forgot something, and put him back down. This is silly, she thought, but she's wanted to do this for a long time. She put the bare sole of her right foot on Brian's face and did a victory pose. After she got that out of her system, she draped him back over her shoulder. She went out the back door of her apartment to where the dumpsters were located. She was about to dump him in the one meant for standard garbage, then thought better of it, when she got a whiff of what was in there.

Even he doesn't deserve to go in there, Velvet thought. She then saw a dumpster for recycled cardboard filled with nothing but broken down cardboard boxes. Perfect.

Velvet walked over to the dumpster, and dropped Brian on the pile of cardboard. Dusting her hands off, she walked back to her apartment, her thoughts now on what to eat for dinner and if there was a good movie on TV that night.

When Brian came to, he was startled by his unfamiliar surroundings. Then he looked down beneath him and discovered he was lying on cardboard boxes. He arose and looked around. While he was unconscious, Velvet threw him in the recycling dumpster. He got a whiff of the stench from the neighboring dumpster and was a little relieved that she didn't throw him in the garbage dumpster like she said she would. As quickly as his aching muscles would allow, he climbed down from the dumpster, got to his car as quickly as he could, and went home.

The next day, Brian sat on the sofa of his place watching television and nursing his wounds, particularly his arm that was almost pulled out of its socket. He wondered if it was now a few inches longer. In any case, he sat, deciding to cut his losses.

All right Susan, you win, he thought to himself. You didn't even do so much as see me and you beat me. Your name is a household word in this town, especially all the gyms, and dojos in it. And if it's not enough that your name is respected, even feared by both man and beast, you have friends who'll even go and fight for you.

He moved his arm, trying to get the soreness out of it. And fight very hard too. He should've taken Tony's advice, cut his losses and look for a woman who's less lethal. Just go ahead and bide his time until graduation, then date any one of the numerous women back home who want him. Yeah, that sounds like a plan . . .

Just then, he heard the doorbell. He wasn't expecting company, and right now, he wasn't in the mood for any. Maybe it's a salesman. He walked over to the door, opened it ' and saw Velvet in the doorway. She was wearing a white tank top, gray yoga pants, and as usual, was barefoot. She was smiling.

"Hello Brian," Velvet said.

"What do you want?" Brian jumped back, preparing to shut the door in Velvet's face at the slightest sign of a threat.

"I told you last night, I need a maid." She stepped into the threshold, one hand against the door so Brian couldn't shut it. "Remember?"

"Yes, I remember, but I told you, I don't know any-" He paused, looking at Velvet's smiling face, then he understood what she meant. "Now wait a minute-"

"I need you to go and pack a few of your things, and I need you to make it quick, I have a full schedule today." Velvet walked into the living room and sat on the sofa in front of the television, and propped her feet on the coffee table.

"What are you talking about? I didn't agree to being your maid! And I didn't say you could come in and make yourself at home!"

Velvet took the remote and turned off the TV. "Brian, right now you have two choices. You can either go ahead and pack your things and come out with me back to my place, or you can be carried out and be stuck with the clothes on your back for the week. Which will it be?"

Brian, remembering all too well what happened the previous evening, turned to go into his room.

"That's too bad, I was looking forward to another tumble," Velvet said from Brian's sofa as she turned the TV on to watch a sporting event.

Brian however, had his mind on other ideas as he closed the door to his bedroom. He grabbed a suitcase, then changed his mind to use a gym bag instead. As he put clothes and other things in the bag, he glanced at his bedroom window. If he could open the window, he could escape to his car, and perhaps call the police on his cell phone to tell them that there's an intruder in his place. When he zipped up the bag and started to move towards the window, the door swung open, and Velvet stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips.

"You weren't thinking of pulling a fast one on me, were you Brian?" she said.

"N-no," Brian said. "You just beat me up last night, why do you want me to be your maid?"

"Because I beat you up last night, that's why. Besides, you seem to be so used to having others do their work for you, I figured this would be a good way to put the shoe on the other foot, not that I wear shoes, but you know what I mean. You're welcome to challenge me any time you wish if don't want to be my maid."

"But, I live here. I just can't leave my stuff here unprotected."

"Oh stop your whining, you'll still get to live here. You're just going to spend the first week at my place in the extra bedroom. If you're good, the next week we'll plan a schedule when you will work at my place after your classes and your job, and when you have free time and get to go home. One thing though, if your work does not meet up to my expectations, you're going to stay there until it's finished, and not before, do you understand me?"

"What if I don't work?" Brian asked.

"Then what happened to you last night will be considered a bad dream compared to what I will do to you. There are several holds and throws I haven't practiced yet. Oh, I almost forgot, from time to time I may need a sparring partner, or more accurate, a throw dummy after I get back from my judo courses, so you may want to get a suitcase and put a few more things in instead of that dinky gym bag."

"You know what you're attempting to do is illegal. I could have you arrested." Brian said as he once again grabbed the suitcase and started taking items out of the gym bag.

"Oh, if you want to call the police, go ahead. After they stop laughing, they might begin to take you seriously. There's no crime against having someone clean your apartment. There's also the beating you're going to get after you do so. While we're at it, let's talk about the illegal activity you did a year ago, attempted assault, stalking, etc."

"Okay, I see your point. How long will I being doing this? Will I get paid for this at least?"

"Paid?" Velvet laughed. "Your payment will be me not kicking your butt when I feel like it if you do your job. How long? When I say your time is up. Are you finished?"

"Yeah, I'm finished," Brian said with the resignation of a man given a life sentence.

"Good. Now grab your suitcase so we can get out of here. I have things to do, and so do you. Let's go. We're going in my car."

Brian grabbed his suitcase and followed Velvet out the door.

A month later, Velvet sat at the ice cream parlor drinking her grape smoothie. The cool, sweet taste of the confection was refreshing despite the coolness of the spring day, having rained the day before. The humidity combined with the mild breeze has made for an uncommonly chilly day. Velvet readjusted her long jacket over her sweatshirt and sweatpants that defeated the chill. At first, she had to struggle to keep warm, the coolness affecting everything except her feet. Ironically, she received a stimulating pleasure walking through the wet grass in her bare feet. It invigorated her, made her more aware of nature. She also knows after she jogs and finishes her workout, she'll be warm enough. Besides, despite the weather, she does not plan on changing this meeting after all the trouble she went to in setting it up.

She found it very strange, no, funny, that these two people attend the same school, live not far from each other, are both well known in local martial arts circles, heck, they even attend the same church, and they have never met! She's good friends with both of them, and their schedules seem to have them miss each other. Well, she's going to put a stop to it right now. Velvet checked her watch. They should be showing up any time now.

As if on clue, they did, coming from different directions. The one coming on her right, with short black hair, was wearing an oversized black sweatshirt with the word, "Hi-ah!" printed in white across the front. Completing her outfit was black leggings that stopped just below the knees. Her black nail polish completed her footwear. This was topped by a sunny smile that seemed to offset the breezy day.

I need to get her to wear other colors besides black, Velvet thought to herself.

The other coming on her left, with long blonde hair, appeared to be completely oblivious to the elements, wearing only a plain purple t-shirt and green khaki cargo shorts, which showed off her well-muscled frame. Taking long strides with her bare legs and feet, she didn't so much avoid the obstacles and little puddles, instead going right through them like they weren't there. Her walk was purposeful as was the expression on her face, which changed into a warm grin as she approached her friend.

Velvet said hello to them both, then said, "At last, the long awaited time is here! Janelle Edwards, meet Susan Davidson. Susan Davidson, meet Janelle Edwards. It's about time you two finally met each other."

Susan and Janelle clasped hands, greeted each other, and said almost at the same time, "I've heard so much about you!"

"So you're the one who sent those three thugs to the hospital," Janelle said.

"Yeah, one of the town's worst-kept secrets," Susan said. "And you must be "The Iron Foot.'"

"Well you can blame my husband-to-be for that. Though from what I heard about you, I think you should be the carrier of that title."

"You don't hit me as a tenderfoot," Susan said, pointing her right big toe at Janelle's feet. "I bet you have some pretty tough soles there."

"Maybe, but in judo, you don't do a whole lot of kicking, especially the kind that can break ribs."

"I can teach you."

"Really? I would like that! Is there anything I can give you?"

"Yeah, I've always heard about those chokes that you folks practice in judo. I'd like to learn one of them."

"Which one? There's several to choose from."

"I don't care, one or two of your most popular ones will do."

"It's a deal!" Janelle said. "I understand you're going to be getting married a month or two ahead of me."

"Yes, David and I are going to tie the knot, then spend our honeymoon in Mexico, where we always go for our mission trip. How about you?"

"Oh, Ben is a darling once you get him out of his shell, but he doesn't seem to have much of a sense for adventure. Right now, I'm trying to get him to not be a slave to tradition," Janelle said.

"We need to arrange to have our fianc#es to meet. Maybe David could help Ben loosen up a little."

"Hey, sometimes I need all the help I could get, and oops! I'm sorry Velvet," Janelle said, looking over at Velvet, who was sitting at her table, smiling and sipping her smoothie. "We were so busy getting ourselves acquainted, we forgot to ask about what's going on with you."

"That's okay," Velvet said. "I was just wondering how you two can go to the same church and not meet each other."

"That's probably because our church has two morning services," Janelle said. "We go to the early morning service. I told Ben we're missing a lot by not going to the later service. The pastor is a little more awake when he preaches."

"I'm sorry too, Velvet," Susan said. "Come to think of it, you haven't told us anything about your love life, while you know everything about mine."

"As a matter of fact, she's right," Janelle said. "You know what's going on with Ben and I, but I don't know anything about your man. Somebody needs to "fess up here."

"Yeah Velvet," Susan said. "'Fess up."

"Well right now I don't have a man in my life," Velvet said as she sipped her smoothie. "But I've got a maid . . ."

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