The man crashed through the undergrowth, the sound of his own heavy breathing loud in his ears. His legs felt like lead, his lungs burning with exhaustion. He heard the sound of the dogs close behind him, barking with excitement as they hunted their prey. Not far behind them would be the horses ridden by the aristos. Pain shot through his calve as one dog sank its fangs into him, another leaps up clamping its teeth firm around his arm. He falls to the ground and the pack is upon him. The game-wardens pull the dogs of the bloody but still living human mess. The tall balding middle aged prince handed his rifle to his pre-teen son. “It is ur ... time for your ... ur ... first kill”. The tall beautiful blonde rode up snatching the gun away from her son “I won’t have my son involved in this barbaric sport”. “Its okay mama they are only animals. The sub-humans don’t feel a thing. Thatcher taught us that we are the herdsmen and we must cull the unemployed” She was about to retort when her mobile phone rang. She was about to ignore it when she saw the “privacy” light flashing. Someone was calling encrypted. Let the Americans protest, she’ll be damned if she will hand over her private key to held in escrow. She moves away for privacy and answers the phone “Ya, D”. “H here. Jim P has taken the bait. I’ll keep an eye on him”. “No you will leave the country for central immediately, I want no trails. o.k.”.”o.k. ya. bye”. A shot rang out, the wretched unemployed man was put out of his misery.

“Would you care to comment on the allegations, Councillor Cole?” Frank McIntosh, editor of the local paper asked. “No comment” Reginald Cole replied rushing up the grand staircase to the entrance of county hall. I followed Frank. Cole entered the building and our way was blocked by a large brute of a man. He was over 6’, a large muscular build and a scarred face “No entrance for the public” he grunted. “This is a public building. The public have the right to attend council meeting” I said. “Wanna try it?” he replied raising his fists. We decided against this and walked back down the stairs.

Walking back to Frank’s car we met Councillor Jack Smith. He was an opposition councillor who had previously paid me to undig dirty dealing in Cole’s ruling party. We told him about not being allowed in to a council meeting. “Sorry chaps, but it’s that bastard Cole. The sooner he’s voted out the better, but he always seems to stay in power”. I explained to him how I had some new leads that might expose Cole. “I’ll pay any necessary expenses. It’s about time that bugger was nailed. He’s too clever by half in covering his tracks. Nail him good, Jim, expose him to the public so he can’t hide behind his friends in high places”. We said our goodbyes and he went off to the meeting.

“Are you a member of the Ireland Conservative Club?” I asked Frank. “Of course, I am a member of most clubs in this area where the influential and newsworthy go. Why do you ask?”he replied. “Oh its just something Bobby found the other day. It might be nothing but anyway I fancy a drink”. “Nothing to do with the fact that Cole’s a regular?” Frank asked. “I honestly didn’t know that Frank. Let’s go then. Maybe some of the regulars can shed some light on his activities”.

We drove out to Ireland, a small village a few miles from Bristledown Manor. Frank signed me in as a guest under the snobbish glare of the doorman and then we headed for the bar. The bar was a in long room. At the far end was a stage used for whatever functions they had there. In the middle was a large dance floor, surrounded by tables and leather backed seating. About a dozen people or so were currently seated drinking and chatting. The bar itself was long and well furnished.

The barmaid came over to us on the other side of the bar. She was a mature stern looking woman, probably in her early fifties. She had short white curly hair, a severe face with a double chin. Her eyes were grey and bright, and her nose was thickish. I guessed her height to be around 5’ 8” with a squat powerful looking build that intrigued me. Her neck was thick and tapered out to a very broad set of shoulders covered by the loose black jacket she wore. It could have been padded but I was certain they were the real thing. Her upper torso tapered dramatically from her wide shoulders to a medium sized waist and out again in a wide hourglass figure. A low cut white blouse revealed that she was quite well endowed. “Can I help you gentlemen” she asked. “Two pints of Whetherreds please” I replied. She fetched the glasses and pulled our pints. I gave her the money and she walked to the back of the bar to the cash register. This gave me a chance to look at the back of her legs. She wore a knee length black skirt and very high heeled black shoes. Sheathed in very fine meshed black fishnets were the largest most awesome looking calves I have ever seen. They must have been at least 19” of sheer muscle flaring out in dramatic contrast to her slender ankles. I am amazed at how such a straight laced woman could develop such huge muscular calves. They seem bigger than my former landlady when I was at university (JIMP#1). I wish I could see if her thighs were as well developed as her calves. I must admit that I find something terribly erotic about women with muscular calves, sometimes causing my downfall (JIMP#1 & #2). It really turns me on to watch their calves bulge and bunch up as they walk.

I heard Frank say something but I was too distracted. She turned and approach us again with my change then went off to serve another customer. “I’m sorry Frank, I didn’t quite catch that” I said. “What’s this all about Jim?” he repeated. “What do you know about Lady Helen Windthorpe?” I asked. “Not much. She came back from India after parents died about 10 years ago. Keeps herself pretty much to herself, but there’s been rumours that’s she into S&M and some strange Asian religion”.

“Any relationship with Cole?” I asked. “Not that I know of. He hardly seems her type. She’s very stuck up with a superiority complex. Doesn’t like us lower classes much” he told me. “I have a copy of a dossier she has on Cole.” I told him “Copies of newspaper articles, council minutes, that sort of thing”. “He’s up to all sorts but he never gets caught” Frank replied. “Cole diverted the town by-pass by several miles so it wouldn’t cross land owned by John Davison” I said. “The millionaire local arms dealer. Yes I know. Very secretive man. Friends in high places and all that”. “He also got the council to agree a million pound renovation grant to the owner of rundown riverside houses. The landlord - John Davison. He got the council to award a grant to a boy who failed all his exams to send him to Cambridge, when there were more deserving cases. The boy was Davison’s son. He also got the council to agree a million pound grant to a poor farmer who happened to be the same boy when he got kicked out of university.”

Frank introduced me to some of the regulars and we asked about Cole. The general consensus was that he was a crook and a scoundrel. “ah! used to own a small second hand car business you know. Suddenly he’s got four large garages selling new cars. Tax payers money I wouldn’t be surprised”,”That bastard took our village pond away from us. Claimed it as part of his own land. Turns out council never re-applied for it to be registered as public property. Convenient for him wouldn’t you say”. The opinions were along the same lines. Plenty of suspected misuses of power but no hard evidence.

While Frank talked some more people, I decided to chat to the barmaid “Do you know Councillor Cole?”. “He comes in here often, love” she replies. “I don’t think much of him though”. “Have you ever seen him with John Davison?”. “Not really. Davison’s very secretive. Hardly ever leaves his property”. Despite her fierce appearance, she was actually quite amiable. I ordered another pint. She pulled the pint allowing me to admire her ample chest and the deep cleavage on show. I then noticed the necklace dangling around her neck. It was an ebony figure of a large breasted Asian goddess with many arms and legs - exactly the same as what Lady Helen wore!. “Do you know Lady Helen Windthorpe?” I asked. “That stuck up cow!. No, never comes in here. Not posh enough for the likes of her”. “That’s an interesting necklace you are wearing. May I see it?” I asked. For a moment she seemed flustered then she changed the subject. “What’s your name love?. I haven’t seen you in here before”. “Jim, Jim Priest, and your name?”. “Cynthia Parrish” she replies, “I’m only helping out here while the usual barmaid recovers from having a baby”.

“Cynthia ... I ... ur ... I noticed that you’ve got splendid calves. Do you do some kind of sport” I nervously asked. “I like to keep fit that’s all. They’re a bit too big for most men’s liking” she replies. “Not for me. I think they are very sexy”. “Why thank you” she replies. “I was thinking of staying quite late. Is there anywhere I can get a room for the night?” I asked. “Not around here, love. But ... er. since you seem like an admirer of Amazons, I’ll let you stay in one of the spare rooms upstairs next to mine if you like” she gave a knowing wink. I was caught totally off-guard. Maybe she is horny and fancies me, I think to myself. She may look like a bit of an old dragon but the thought of getting my hands on her large breasts and those calves aroused me. “Yes please ... ur ... I mean if you don’t mind?” I said hoping not to sound too eager. “Not at all love, not at all”

Bob Allingsworth pulled his car up outside the club, switched off the engine and waited for his prey. He was looking forward to this. “Just frighten him off. He’s been asking too many questions and I don’t like it” Cole told him. Bob intended to do more than just frighten him off. He gave a wicked chuckle as he remembered sinking his large fists deep into his last victim’s face and the sound of his skull cracking. He didn’t build his body up to be bigger than anyone else not to be able to use his muscles for real. Lifting weights was all very well, but he preferred smashing people to a bloody lifeless mess with his muscles.