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Pro #4: Good stunts

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  • jreynolds88
    A movie stunt is a scene of amazing physical action, and these books have plenty of chances to show off our heroine s prowess. Here s one from #4, Hard-core
    Message 1 of 6 , Aug 10, 2009
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      A movie stunt is a scene of amazing physical action, and these books have plenty of chances to show off our heroine's prowess. Here's one from #4, "Hard-core Murder", where Penelope is on the trail of someone making snuff films. She's attending a party in a New York hi-rise when thugs suddenly burst in:

      "The smoking muzzle of the machine gun swung in Penelope's direction.

      Without hesitation, she took another backward step and dived through the window. The shattering glass cut into her bare back, and then she was falling like a pinwheel toward the street, one hundred and fifty feet below.
      ...
      At about that moment, the heavy sideboard began sliding across the floor toward the window. It moved a good eight feet, like haunted furniture at a seance, before the windowsill stopped it. No one noticed.

      Outside, Penelope's tumbling fall through the night air was brought up short. She felt the tug at the hem of her gown, as bone-wrenching as an opening parachute. She bounced up and down like a rubber paddle ball at the end of an elastic.

      She was dangling, head down, about thirty feet above street level. Below she could see the tops of the taxicabs and buses, the foreshortened figures of night-time strollers. Nobody noticed the half-naked woman dangling like a spider at the end of a thread. In New York, only the tourists look up. And this was definitely not a tourist neighborhood.

      Penelope's supple body bent at the waist and knees, and she hauled herself one-handed to an upright position. The little gold-plated automatic was in her other hand, having been snatched out of its holster at the beginning of her fall. She thrust it into the vee of the fabric between her breasts.

      She wasn't wearing an evening gown any more. She was wearing a micro-mini-skirt with an indecently bare top. The rest of the matte jersey fabric was unraveled in a long thread between her and the window, its other end tied to the leg of the heavy sideboard.

      The incredibly strong elastic filament that was woven into it was the same long-chain polymer that she used in the Spyder pistol-winch and the threadlike bolas that were hidden in her hair. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks that Inga hadn't made the thread thirty feet longer, or that Baynard Warren hadn't lived three floors below. In either case, she would have splattered against the pavement like a smashed bug.

      She wormed her hand into the loop of soft fabric at the end of the polymer line and cut it free with the little snicker blade that protruded a bare millimeter under her false thumbnail. Dangling one-handed, she kicked upward, feet together like a circus trapeze artist, to get a swing going.

      Up there above the taxis and buses she swung in bigger and bigger arcs, snapping the powerful spring of her body each time. Gauging it nicely, she let go at exactly the right moment. She flew through the air in a wide curve. Her body hit the green canopy in front of the building. She bounced once on the canvas and swumg herself down to the sidewalk in an easy movement. A strolling couple gaped at her.

      She breezed past them with a nod and a dazzling smile. They turned to stare after her: a spectacular dark-haired beauty in a scanty slip-like garment, a gold gun butt protruding form between her breasts and her smooth creamy back bleeding from dozens of little glass cuts."

      Any other favorites?
    • jreynolds88
      Here s another stunt, this time from #6, Sonic Slave . She is visiting the palace of an Arabian emir, who plans world domination through the fiendish sonic
      Message 2 of 6 , Aug 11, 2009
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        Here's another stunt, this time from #6, "Sonic Slave". She is visiting the palace of an Arabian emir, who plans world domination through the fiendish sonic cannon that a French acoustician has built for him. The emir just discovered that she had killed his favorite falcon, and sent a squad of four men to arrest her in her boudoir. Four armed men versus Penelope in a night gown - it was no contest. Many more guards are coming, though, so she has to make her escape:

        "She ran barefoot out the door and down the corridor, her desert boots in hand. [Their tabs of epoxy and solvent would let her walk on ceilings.]

        A startled servant with a tray was in her way. She bowled him over, sending the tray spinning. She made it to the next bend and poked her head cautiously around the corner. There was the harem, an armed eunuch guarding the portals.

        She didn't have the Spyder to help her this time. She shimmied up a tall column, the marble cold between her legs. She perched at the top and put on the desert boots.

        Then she was walking upside down across the ceiling, holding the skirts of her nightgown out in a curtsy-like gesture to keep them from falling down over her head. There was no sound except for the soft intermittent pop of her soles pulling loose from the ceiling with each step.

        She stopped over the harem entrance and strained backward with her magnificent muscles, plastering herself against the ceiling. Her fingers found a grip in the ornamental fretwork and she waited, a spider of dangling hair and breasts and black lace.

        After a while there was the sound of pounding feet, and about fifteen soldiers came puffing down the corridor, carrying pistols and automatic weapons, heading toward her suite. Their leader flung a breathless 'Khalii balak Amerekaniya!' at the eunuch as he passed. Watch out for the American woman.

        When the soldiers had gone by, the eunuch frowned. He drew his sword and tiptoed to the branch of the corridor, looking back every few steps toward the post he'd deserted. He peered quickly in both directions, then started back. He thought it over some more, then repeated the process at the bend that the soldiers had passed before they turned the corner.

        She was fifty feet in the air with no way to get down quickly. She had perhaps ten seconds.

        She stripped off the black nightgown. She held the hem against the ceiling and stepped on it with one foot. Would it work? It should - there ought to be enough space between the threads of the diaphanous material for the epoxy to ooze through. She unlaced the boot and dangled upside down by one foot. The nightgown remained anchored to the ceiling, a disembodied foot stamping on it. She grasped the gown's shoulder straps in one hand and unlaced the other boot.

        She fell. She slowed like a yo-yo, two thirds of the way down, as the synthetic elastomer material of the nightgown stretched to its limit. The eunuch was still at the far end of the corridor, his back to her. She let go and landed lightly on her bare feet, an easy fifteen foot drop. The nightgown snapped back and dangled like a black banner from the arched ceiling. It was gloomy up there. She hoped no one would notice it for a while.

        And then she was walking naked into the Emir's harem."

        This turns out not to be very good cover, because even in a crowd of naked women, Penelope is pretty conspicuous. She is shortly captured and on her way to her next bondage adventure.
      • Steve Smith
        OH BOY!!      PLs continue!!!!  ... From: jreynolds88 Subject: [TheBaroness] Re: Pro #4: Good stunts To:
        Message 3 of 6 , Aug 11, 2009
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          OH BOY!!   
           
          PLs continue!!!! 

          --- On Tue, 8/11/09, jreynolds88 <jreynolds88@...> wrote:

          From: jreynolds88 <jreynolds88@...>
          Subject: [TheBaroness] Re: Pro #4: Good stunts
          To: TheBaroness@yahoogroups.com
          Received: Tuesday, August 11, 2009, 10:40 PM

           
          Here's another stunt, this time from #6, "Sonic Slave". She is visiting the palace of an Arabian emir, who plans world domination through the fiendish sonic cannon that a French acoustician has built for him. The emir just discovered that she had killed his favorite falcon, and sent a squad of four men to arrest her in her boudoir. Four armed men versus Penelope in a night gown - it was no contest. Many more guards are coming, though, so she has to make her escape:

          "She ran barefoot out the door and down the corridor, her desert boots in hand. [Their tabs of epoxy and solvent would let her walk on ceilings.]

          A startled servant with a tray was in her way. She bowled him over, sending the tray spinning. She made it to the next bend and poked her head cautiously around the corner. There was the harem, an armed eunuch guarding the portals.

          She didn't have the Spyder to help her this time. She shimmied up a tall column, the marble cold between her legs. She perched at the top and put on the desert boots.

          Then she was walking upside down across the ceiling, holding the skirts of her nightgown out in a curtsy-like gesture to keep them from falling down over her head. There was no sound except for the soft intermittent pop of her soles pulling loose from the ceiling with each step.

          She stopped over the harem entrance and strained backward with her magnificent muscles, plastering herself against the ceiling. Her fingers found a grip in the ornamental fretwork and she waited, a spider of dangling hair and breasts and black lace.

          After a while there was the sound of pounding feet, and about fifteen soldiers came puffing down the corridor, carrying pistols and automatic weapons, heading toward her suite. Their leader flung a breathless 'Khalii balak Amerekaniya! ' at the eunuch as he passed. Watch out for the American woman.

          When the soldiers had gone by, the eunuch frowned. He drew his sword and tiptoed to the branch of the corridor, looking back every few steps toward the post he'd deserted. He peered quickly in both directions, then started back. He thought it over some more, then repeated the process at the bend that the soldiers had passed before they turned the corner.

          She was fifty feet in the air with no way to get down quickly. She had perhaps ten seconds.

          She stripped off the black nightgown. She held the hem against the ceiling and stepped on it with one foot. Would it work? It should - there ought to be enough space between the threads of the diaphanous material for the epoxy to ooze through. She unlaced the boot and dangled upside down by one foot. The nightgown remained anchored to the ceiling, a disembodied foot stamping on it. She grasped the gown's shoulder straps in one hand and unlaced the other boot.

          She fell. She slowed like a yo-yo, two thirds of the way down, as the synthetic elastomer material of the nightgown stretched to its limit. The eunuch was still at the far end of the corridor, his back to her. She let go and landed lightly on her bare feet, an easy fifteen foot drop. The nightgown snapped back and dangled like a black banner from the arched ceiling. It was gloomy up there. She hoped no one would notice it for a while.

          And then she was walking naked into the Emir's harem."

          This turns out not to be very good cover, because even in a crowd of naked women, Penelope is pretty conspicuous. She is shortly captured and on her way to her next bondage adventure.



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        • jreynolds88
          Yet another, now from #3, Death Is a Ruby Light . She is infiltrating the Soviet rocket base at Baikanour, which the NSA suspects of knocking down US
          Message 4 of 6 , Aug 13, 2009
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            Yet another, now from #3, "Death Is a Ruby Light". She is infiltrating the Soviet rocket base at Baikanour, which the NSA suspects of knocking down US satellites. She made her way across Kazahkstan disguised as a hitchhiking Kazakh girl, but unfortunately had to kill her ride when he discovered her radio. This being a Baroness novel, she did it while naked after bathing in a river. She's now inside the base on a rooftop, wondering how to get to the Mission Control building:

            "She checked the sky again. The stars were fading as it grew lighter. There was still enough darkness to cover her if she moved swiftly.

            From where she stood, she'd have to fire the Spyder at a shallow upward angle to the concrete pier across the way. She estimated distance and height and did a rough geometric calculation in her head. If she were swinging off the water tank with an ordinary line, her body would slam into the ground only some twenty feet from the base of the service shed. With a powerful leap, and the spring taking up the line, call it thirty-five feet. But the spring-and-clutch arrangement would do more than just take up the line; it would pull her along through the air, shortening her pendulum swing downward by quite a few yards.

            But it still wasn't good enough. She needed another twenty feet of margin. Otherwise she'd go crashing to the foot of the command center, right under the overhanging marquee.

            She shrugged off the top of the body stocking and unhooked her bra. It looked like ordinary stretch fabric, but it was made out of an amorphous polymer similar to the Spyder's line.

            In fact, it was an incredibly strong elastomer. The stretch ratio was sixty to one - many times more powerful than a giant rubber band of equivalent size. And it couldn't break.

            She tied the ends of the bra to a pair of sturdy-looking cleats at the edge of the water tower. She cut off another twenty feet of the Spyder's line and tied one end around the bra, between the cups. She played out the line to the opposite edge of the tower. She wound the free end around the miniature winch in her kit: a mate to the little pulleys. She fastened the winch to a cleat and began turning the crank.

            The bra began to stretch. The pull was fantastic, even with the winch's gear ratio of twenty to one. In a minute or two, the bra had stretched to a huge V, its sides a good fifteen feet long.

            She fit her bottom snugly into the V and braced her legs. She aimed the Spyder at the concrete pier, thirty yards away. The Spyder hissed. At the precise moment that the explosive piton hit the pier on the opposite roof, she cut the line that was wound around the little winch.

            Like a stone flung from a giant slingshot, she flew through the air. She reached the top of her trajectory halfway across, but by that time the Spyder's spring was pulling her along. She began swinging downward like a pendulum, the Spyder reeling in the slack, foot by foot.

            Her sneakered heels hit the side of the command building, jarring the breath out of her. She was dangling only a few feet above the entrance marquee. She was hidden from the crowd directly below.

            She listened, holding her breath. There was no outcry from below. Nobody had seen the swift black shadow that had just flown twenty feet over their heads."

            Kenyon sure liked this magic nylonium polymer! That and her taut musculature let Penelope get in anywhere.
          • barrie125ca
            Thanks again for the excerpts. The Baroness certainly has inventive means of getting into and out of trouble. I was wondering if she uses just as inventive
            Message 5 of 6 , Aug 15, 2009
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              Thanks again for the excerpts. The Baroness certainly has inventive means of getting into and out of trouble. I was wondering if she uses just as inventive weapons to finish of some of her opponents? If so would it be possible to post excerpts of that or if that is not possible, a list of weapons she uses. That woyld be great!!

              Thanks again for the posts,

              Cheers,

              Steve


              --- In TheBaroness@yahoogroups.com, "jreynolds88" <jreynolds88@...> wrote:
              >
              > Yet another, now from #3, "Death Is a Ruby Light". She is infiltrating the Soviet rocket base at Baikanour, which the NSA suspects of knocking down US satellites. She made her way across Kazahkstan disguised as a hitchhiking Kazakh girl, but unfortunately had to kill her ride when he discovered her radio. This being a Baroness novel, she did it while naked after bathing in a river. She's now inside the base on a rooftop, wondering how to get to the Mission Control building:
              >
              > "She checked the sky again. The stars were fading as it grew lighter. There was still enough darkness to cover her if she moved swiftly.
              >
              > From where she stood, she'd have to fire the Spyder at a shallow upward angle to the concrete pier across the way. She estimated distance and height and did a rough geometric calculation in her head. If she were swinging off the water tank with an ordinary line, her body would slam into the ground only some twenty feet from the base of the service shed. With a powerful leap, and the spring taking up the line, call it thirty-five feet. But the spring-and-clutch arrangement would do more than just take up the line; it would pull her along through the air, shortening her pendulum swing downward by quite a few yards.
              >
              > But it still wasn't good enough. She needed another twenty feet of margin. Otherwise she'd go crashing to the foot of the command center, right under the overhanging marquee.
              >
              > She shrugged off the top of the body stocking and unhooked her bra. It looked like ordinary stretch fabric, but it was made out of an amorphous polymer similar to the Spyder's line.
              >
              > In fact, it was an incredibly strong elastomer. The stretch ratio was sixty to one - many times more powerful than a giant rubber band of equivalent size. And it couldn't break.
              >
              > She tied the ends of the bra to a pair of sturdy-looking cleats at the edge of the water tower. She cut off another twenty feet of the Spyder's line and tied one end around the bra, between the cups. She played out the line to the opposite edge of the tower. She wound the free end around the miniature winch in her kit: a mate to the little pulleys. She fastened the winch to a cleat and began turning the crank.
              >
              > The bra began to stretch. The pull was fantastic, even with the winch's gear ratio of twenty to one. In a minute or two, the bra had stretched to a huge V, its sides a good fifteen feet long.
              >
              > She fit her bottom snugly into the V and braced her legs. She aimed the Spyder at the concrete pier, thirty yards away. The Spyder hissed. At the precise moment that the explosive piton hit the pier on the opposite roof, she cut the line that was wound around the little winch.
              >
              > Like a stone flung from a giant slingshot, she flew through the air. She reached the top of her trajectory halfway across, but by that time the Spyder's spring was pulling her along. She began swinging downward like a pendulum, the Spyder reeling in the slack, foot by foot.
              >
              > Her sneakered heels hit the side of the command building, jarring the breath out of her. She was dangling only a few feet above the entrance marquee. She was hidden from the crowd directly below.
              >
              > She listened, holding her breath. There was no outcry from below. Nobody had seen the swift black shadow that had just flown twenty feet over their heads."
              >
              > Kenyon sure liked this magic nylonium polymer! That and her taut musculature let Penelope get in anywhere.
              >
            • jreynolds88
              Still more, now from #5, Operation Doomsday . A Soviet probe has brought an Andromeda-strain-like virus back from the moon, something that can turn all life
              Message 6 of 6 , Aug 16, 2009
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                Still more, now from #5, "Operation Doomsday". A Soviet probe has brought an Andromeda-strain-like virus back from the moon, something that can turn all life on earth into jelly in a matter of months. Penelope broke into an Arctic base (while wearing a skintight thermal suit of course) to capture the capsule containing the virus, but was captured herself and fed to a wolf pack by the sadistic base security officer. She fought them off with the help of her borzois, but in the meantime a Chinese force overran the base and are hurrying away with the capsule. She and her crew broke out their inflatable jet-powered snowmobiles, and killed all the Chinese soldiers, but the leader has gotten away in his own snowmobile:

                "She threw away the automatic rifle and drew the Spyder. His back was a tempting target. The explosive piton would detonate in his spine, spreading its little steel claws, and she could reel him in like a fish.

                But she mustn't. If he dropped the capsule, it might crack.

                She aimed low and fired at the snowmobile's stubby rear. The plastic thread hissed across thirty feet of space. Instantly she was jerked off her feet. She held onto the Spyder's butt with both hands and went bouncing painfully over the snow at twenty miles an hour.

                She was the fish. And now she was going to reel herself in.

                She slid on her belly across the slick surface, going faster and faster. It was only a matter of time before she hit a rock or a tree stump that would kill her. She worked the Spyder's clutch like a deep-sea fisherman, gaining an inch of line here, a foot there, every time there was some slack.

                The Chinese bent over his handlebars, oblivious to her presence.

                She was getting closer. By God, her body was bruised all over, but she was pulling herself closer and closer to the runaway vehicle!

                Her body slammed into a little hollow, knocking the breath out of her. She almost lost consciousness, but she hung on. A little more! Ten Feet! A yard! A foot! And then her fingers were clawing at the snowmobile's rear trim, and she was pulling herself up over the whirring rubber tread.

                He looked over his shoulder when her weight settled in the rear saddle. His mouth gaped in shock. He reached for his gun, dropping the capsule.

                She grabbed for the capsule. The hell with the gun! She caught it and hugged it to her, holding herself on the leather perch with her strong thighs.

                He was fumbling with his holster, having an awkward time of it. He got the revolver in his hand and twisted in his seat, trying to see the target riding behind him. She embraced him with her free arm, squeezing as close to him as she could get. His arm, clumsy in the heavy quilted sleeve, crossed his chest to fire over his left shoulder. She leaned to the right, and the bullet whistled past her cheek. She got her right arm further around his torso and grabbed the revolver by its cylinder. He pulled the trigger again, and she felt the cylinder trying to revolve under her fingers.

                The snowmobile was zigzagging erratically, slowing down and swaying from side to side as they wrestled for the gun. His broken leg dangled inches from the ground. She kicked at it, where she thought the broken edges of the bone would be.

                He didn't utter a sound. She had to give him credit for that. But she could feel his body jerk in a spasm of pain. He let go of the revolver and she plucked the revolver from his hand.

                He grabbed for her forearm, but she had already shifted her grip to the handle of the Colt. She put the long barrel to his head, cocked the hammer, closed her eyes and squeezed. There was a deafening explosion, and she could feel the powder burns on her forehead and eyelids. She opened her eyes in time to see the side of his head fly away."

                Unfortunately, the capsule does crack, and the virus turns the Chinese soldier into a blob of goo. Forunately, they happen to have a small nuclear bomb with them which they use to sterilize the entire area.
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