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“The intrepid reporter, Dawn Meadows,”

“And the amateuer girl detective, Emily Lockwood,”

Tommy’s gang looked down at the pair of trussed up girls. They had set their slumbering bodies against the wall in the grimy basement, stocking clad knees drawn up to their chests. Both girls had rope binding their long lean legs, and more biting savagely into their skinny little arms. It was enough to hold them in place should they decide to wake up with ideas for mischief. And gags saw to it that, if they saw the audacity to try and scream for help, they would depressingly find their cries muffled. That would last until either their throats burned hoarse, or they degraded into a choking sob. Dawn’s slumbering form toppled over into Emily, her head resting on the girl detective’s shoulder. Emily, in turn, had her head resting against Dawn’s blonde head.

Tommy and his boys stood leering over the captured girls. Their plaid uniform skirts were not designed to accommodate such an unladylike pose, and not even with every thread of control top pantyhose, was enough to provide them with dignified modesty. Their shoes had been discarded. and their delicate stocking clad toes were left to fend for themselves, soaking up God knows what foul substances that made the grimy floors so sticky.

“You did it, Tommy,” beamed rude boy, as he leered at the exposed and defeated girls.

“Yeah, who would have thought it would have actually worked!” replied his companion.

Tommy crossed his arms and surveyed his dominance. After the last time the meddlesome Emily Lockwood had thwarted his plans, he vowed to get revenge. And so, Tommy Hart did what any arrogant, rich, girl detective hating boy would do. He set about finding a way to defeat his nemesis once and for all. But how did one do that? How did one stop the ever present, ever clever, ever so charming, ever so determined, Emily Lockwood? The answer was, you couldn’t. She was infuriating. Her positive can-do attitude. Her sunny disposition. Her belief in doing good. Her nauseating cute girl politeness. She was always there to investigate strange events, follow the clues, solve the case. But what if she wasn’t? What if Emily Lockwood, amatuer girl detective didn’t exist?

I know what you are thinking, but no. Nothing so garish as murder. No, an annoyingly good girl like Emily would only turn into a martyr. She would inspire legions of new girl detectives snooping about. No. Getting rid of Emily Lockwood would require the kind of scheme that only Tommy Hart would have the arrogance and the funds to pull off.

That was when he began employing the research and development division of his family’s company to do his bidding. Even though Tommy was just a boy, the scientists feared his well known temper and the wrath faced by those who refused him. He was a boy that was used to getting what he wants. And he wanted Emily Lockwood, and any girl that fancied herself a do-gooder detective, gone.

The scientists toiled day and night, week after week, month after month, researching, designing, and building prototypes. Each one was a failure, and each time Tommy’s patience waned, his tolerance expiring. His tantrums in the lab became legendary, and the scientists feared them. And that fear, motivated them. So much so, that after what seemed like an endless stream of failures, they produced a device that worked. It worked just like they said it would. What everyone said was impossible. They had created a device that could travel through time.

With this technological marvel in hand, Tommy could set about dealing with the nosy Emily Lockwood once and for all. And that meant, dealing with a star reporter at the Rose Tribune, Dawn Meadows. Or rather, once upon a time, before the intrepid blonde was a star. You see, Emily Lockwood was able to endlessly thwart Tommy’s plans, and those of all the criminals around Greenfield, because she had the mentoring and confidence lessons from the meddlesome blonde reporter. Once they had joined forces, Emily’s confidence in herself grew, and if there was anything Tommy hated more than not getting what he wanted, it was a girl with confidence. Emily believed she could be a girl detective. He needed to remind her that wasn’t possible. He needed to take away that belief, remove that confidence.

And so, that meant traveling through time to before Dawn Meadows was the star reporter of the Rose Tribune. Back to when she was just a student at the Ivy Ridge Academy for Girls. If I go back to before Dawn Meadows becomes a star reporter and remove her from the equation, then no more nosy intrepid reporter. If there’s no more reporter, she never mentors a young Emily Lockwood. And without that dose of confidence…

Weeks later…

“Hello? Tommy Hart’s Boys Detective Agency. How may I help you?” Emily Lockwood answered the phone with a polite lilt in her charming voice. Cradling the phone against between her ear and shoulder, she nodded and rapidly took notes on a yellow pad of lined paper. “Yes, thank you. The Boys will definitely be able to help in your case. They’re the best there is at this sort of thing!” chirped Emily before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.

Uncrossing her legs, she stood up from her desk, tearing the piece of paper off the pad. She shimmied across the office, her heels clicking and clacking off the marble floors. It was difficult to move in the short tight skirt, but she tried to be grateful that she was afforded sheer black pantyhose to give her a sense of modesty. Still, it was a daily exercise navigating past chairs, open filing cabinets, and doorways to avoid getting an unsightly run in the immensely vulnerable things. She timidly brought it up once in a while, hoping for a bit of sympathy, but Tommy would always say the same thing.

“Oh Emily, you’re so cute. You’re so worried about your appearance and taking care of your pantyhose, but I’ve told you. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll always make sure you have a fresh supply of nylons. You keep focusing on answering the phones, making the coffee, cleaning up after me and the gang, and the stuff that you were made for. The boys and I will worry about the big stuff.” Tommy would say dismissing her concerns about the impracticality of her dress code.

And Emily would always blush and nod her head as though she were foolish for even bringing it up again.

“You’re right Tommy, I’m sorry. It’s difficult dusting high and low places in these skirts, and I’ll admit, I’m a bit too clumsy for tights, but I’ll keep focusing on getting better. I wish I could be a detective like you and the boys, but I know said that’s not for girls,” Emily submissively says, devoid of confidence.

“That’s right, now clean this up,” Tommy instructed, an edge of irritation in his voice. Emily nodded obediently, slowly getting down on her hands and knees. Trying to maintain her balance in the confining skirt, she swept the crumbs of chips with the palm of her hand, gathering them into a pile. The crouch caused the heels of her stocking clad feet to pop out of the back of her shoes, all while the hem of her too short skirt rode high up her long lean thighs. This was enough to make Tommy’s boys hoot and holler with unbridled glee. Emily tried to ignore their crass comments, the feeling of their eyes drinking in her compromising pose, or the degrading way they escalated their excitement by throwing more crumbs on the floor. She could even feel some of them bouncing off her kneeling form and sticking in her long red hair. Poor Emily blinked back the tears in moments like these, fighting the choking feeling she felt in her throat. She tried to tell herself that she was lucky to have a position at Tommy Hart’s Boys Detective Agency at all!

Elsewhere…

Dry leaves blew across the black and white marble tiles of the deserted foyer. Most of the windows on the ground floor had been smashed out by vandals or one too many storms, leaving the place a dilapidated forgotten mess. This was the Meadows estate. Dust hung heavy on the banisters and furniture, that which was left, was covered by ghostly yellowing sheets. It looked like nobody had lived here for many many years. And true it was. Tragedy was too synonymous with the Meadows name. Not only had the Dean & Diane Meadows died in a mysterious accident, but later, their lone daughter, Dawn, up and vanished from the world. Eerily, the last evidence of her existence was a haunting class photo, where the pretty blonde and green eyed girl was seen smiling for the camera. She was a budding bright eyed girl that dreamed of becoming a star reporter. But nobody had ever seen, nor heard from her again.

Meanwhile…

Gerald Sinclair looked out over the city from the offices of the Rose Tribune, located on the 42nd floor. A grim concerned expression darkened his mustachioed face.

“Another fire?” asked a voice from behind him. It was Danny Breslin, of the IT & Research desk.

O’Neil did not answer but for a curt nod. Fires, violence, and chaos had erupted all over the City, and there felt like there was no stopping the madness that gripped the darkened alleys and overrun streets.

“I just wish there would be someone out there that could do something about it. That could stop it,” Danny said, helpless frustration in his voice, just wanting to fill the silence.

“So do I, my boy. So do I…” murmured O’Neil in his gravelly voice, the orange of the fires, reflecting off the glass onto his defeated face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

... And here is part 10 and the conclusion of my brand new story. Tommy's nefarious plot is revealed as he sets the final pieces into motion. And what a ripple effect his plan has! I enjoyed playing with this theme, and I hope some of you found some enjoyment in the series as well. Thank you to any of you who followed it through to the end. I really appreciate it! Of course, the true question is... will Tommy really get away with his mad scientist scheme? Could things really end this badly for our intrepid "would have been" heroines!? I suppose you might say... only TIME will tell...

(This picture was made in Daz Studio 3.1.2.24 and post-worked in Adobe Photoshop CS2)

Description

“The intrepid reporter, Dawn Meadows,”

“And the amateuer girl detective, Emily Lockwood,”

Tommy’s gang looked down at the pair of trussed up girls. They had set their slumbering bodies against the wall in the grimy basement, stocking clad knees drawn up to their chests. Both girls had rope binding their long lean legs, and more biting savagely into their skinny little arms. It was enough to hold them in place should they decide to wake up with ideas for mischief. And gags saw to it that, if they saw the audacity to try and scream for help, they would depressingly find their cries muffled. That would last until either their throats burned hoarse, or they degraded into a choking sob. Dawn’s slumbering form toppled over into Emily, her head resting on the girl detective’s shoulder. Emily, in turn, had her head resting against Dawn’s blonde head.

Tommy and his boys stood leering over the captured girls. Their plaid uniform skirts were not designed to accommodate such an unladylike pose, and not even with every thread of control top pantyhose, was enough to provide them with dignified modesty. Their shoes had been discarded. and their delicate stocking clad toes were left to fend for themselves, soaking up God knows what foul substances that made the grimy floors so sticky.

“You did it, Tommy,” beamed rude boy, as he leered at the exposed and defeated girls.

“Yeah, who would have thought it would have actually worked!” replied his companion.

Tommy crossed his arms and surveyed his dominance. After the last time the meddlesome Emily Lockwood had thwarted his plans, he vowed to get revenge. And so, Tommy Hart did what any arrogant, rich, girl detective hating boy would do. He set about finding a way to defeat his nemesis once and for all. But how did one do that? How did one stop the ever present, ever clever, ever so charming, ever so determined, Emily Lockwood? The answer was, you couldn’t. She was infuriating. Her positive can-do attitude. Her sunny disposition. Her belief in doing good. Her nauseating cute girl politeness. She was always there to investigate strange events, follow the clues, solve the case. But what if she wasn’t? What if Emily Lockwood, amatuer girl detective didn’t exist?

I know what you are thinking, but no. Nothing so garish as murder. No, an annoyingly good girl like Emily would only turn into a martyr. She would inspire legions of new girl detectives snooping about. No. Getting rid of Emily Lockwood would require the kind of scheme that only Tommy Hart would have the arrogance and the funds to pull off.

That was when he began employing the research and development division of his family’s company to do his bidding. Even though Tommy was just a boy, the scientists feared his well known temper and the wrath faced by those who refused him. He was a boy that was used to getting what he wants. And he wanted Emily Lockwood, and any girl that fancied herself a do-gooder detective, gone.

The scientists toiled day and night, week after week, month after month, researching, designing, and building prototypes. Each one was a failure, and each time Tommy’s patience waned, his tolerance expiring. His tantrums in the lab became legendary, and the scientists feared them. And that fear, motivated them. So much so, that after what seemed like an endless stream of failures, they produced a device that worked. It worked just like they said it would. What everyone said was impossible. They had created a device that could travel through time.

With this technological marvel in hand, Tommy could set about dealing with the nosy Emily Lockwood once and for all. And that meant, dealing with a star reporter at the Rose Tribune, Dawn Meadows. Or rather, once upon a time, before the intrepid blonde was a star. You see, Emily Lockwood was able to endlessly thwart Tommy’s plans, and those of all the criminals around Greenfield, because she had the mentoring and confidence lessons from the meddlesome blonde reporter. Once they had joined forces, Emily’s confidence in herself grew, and if there was anything Tommy hated more than not getting what he wanted, it was a girl with confidence. Emily believed she could be a girl detective. He needed to remind her that wasn’t possible. He needed to take away that belief, remove that confidence.

And so, that meant traveling through time to before Dawn Meadows was the star reporter of the Rose Tribune. Back to when she was just a student at the Ivy Ridge Academy for Girls. If I go back to before Dawn Meadows becomes a star reporter and remove her from the equation, then no more nosy intrepid reporter. If there’s no more reporter, she never mentors a young Emily Lockwood. And without that dose of confidence…

Weeks later…

“Hello? Tommy Hart’s Boys Detective Agency. How may I help you?” Emily Lockwood answered the phone with a polite lilt in her charming voice. Cradling the phone against between her ear and shoulder, she nodded and rapidly took notes on a yellow pad of lined paper. “Yes, thank you. The Boys will definitely be able to help in your case. They’re the best there is at this sort of thing!” chirped Emily before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.

Uncrossing her legs, she stood up from her desk, tearing the piece of paper off the pad. She shimmied across the office, her heels clicking and clacking off the marble floors. It was difficult to move in the short tight skirt, but she tried to be grateful that she was afforded sheer black pantyhose to give her a sense of modesty. Still, it was a daily exercise navigating past chairs, open filing cabinets, and doorways to avoid getting an unsightly run in the immensely vulnerable things. She timidly brought it up once in a while, hoping for a bit of sympathy, but Tommy would always say the same thing.

“Oh Emily, you’re so cute. You’re so worried about your appearance and taking care of your pantyhose, but I’ve told you. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll always make sure you have a fresh supply of nylons. You keep focusing on answering the phones, making the coffee, cleaning up after me and the gang, and the stuff that you were made for. The boys and I will worry about the big stuff.” Tommy would say dismissing her concerns about the impracticality of her dress code.

And Emily would always blush and nod her head as though she were foolish for even bringing it up again.

“You’re right Tommy, I’m sorry. It’s difficult dusting high and low places in these skirts, and I’ll admit, I’m a bit too clumsy for tights, but I’ll keep focusing on getting better. I wish I could be a detective like you and the boys, but I know said that’s not for girls,” Emily submissively says, devoid of confidence.

“That’s right, now clean this up,” Tommy instructed, an edge of irritation in his voice. Emily nodded obediently, slowly getting down on her hands and knees. Trying to maintain her balance in the confining skirt, she swept the crumbs of chips with the palm of her hand, gathering them into a pile. The crouch caused the heels of her stocking clad feet to pop out of the back of her shoes, all while the hem of her too short skirt rode high up her long lean thighs. This was enough to make Tommy’s boys hoot and holler with unbridled glee. Emily tried to ignore their crass comments, the feeling of their eyes drinking in her compromising pose, or the degrading way they escalated their excitement by throwing more crumbs on the floor. She could even feel some of them bouncing off her kneeling form and sticking in her long red hair. Poor Emily blinked back the tears in moments like these, fighting the choking feeling she felt in her throat. She tried to tell herself that she was lucky to have a position at Tommy Hart’s Boys Detective Agency at all!

Elsewhere…

Dry leaves blew across the black and white marble tiles of the deserted foyer. Most of the windows on the ground floor had been smashed out by vandals or one too many storms, leaving the place a dilapidated forgotten mess. This was the Meadows estate. Dust hung heavy on the banisters and furniture, that which was left, was covered by ghostly yellowing sheets. It looked like nobody had lived here for many many years. And true it was. Tragedy was too synonymous with the Meadows name. Not only had the Dean & Diane Meadows died in a mysterious accident, but later, their lone daughter, Dawn, up and vanished from the world. Eerily, the last evidence of her existence was a haunting class photo, where the pretty blonde and green eyed girl was seen smiling for the camera. She was a budding bright eyed girl that dreamed of becoming a star reporter. But nobody had ever seen, nor heard from her again.

Meanwhile…

Gerald Sinclair looked out over the city from the offices of the Rose Tribune, located on the 42nd floor. A grim concerned expression darkened his mustachioed face.

“Another fire?” asked a voice from behind him. It was Danny Breslin, of the IT & Research desk.

O’Neil did not answer but for a curt nod. Fires, violence, and chaos had erupted all over the City, and there felt like there was no stopping the madness that gripped the darkened alleys and overrun streets.

“I just wish there would be someone out there that could do something about it. That could stop it,” Danny said, helpless frustration in his voice, just wanting to fill the silence.

“So do I, my boy. So do I…” murmured O’Neil in his gravelly voice, the orange of the fires, reflecting off the glass onto his defeated face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

... And here is part 10 and the conclusion of my brand new story. Tommy's nefarious plot is revealed as he sets the final pieces into motion. And what a ripple effect his plan has! I enjoyed playing with this theme, and I hope some of you found some enjoyment in the series as well. Thank you to any of you who followed it through to the end. I really appreciate it! Of course, the true question is... will Tommy really get away with his mad scientist scheme? Could things really end this badly for our intrepid "would have been" heroines!? I suppose you might say... only TIME will tell...

(This picture was made in Daz Studio 3.1.2.24 and post-worked in Adobe Photoshop CS2)