She wasn't sure, but she sensed that something might be wrong. Something was different. Frankie's two goons -- well, she called them goons only because he did, but they had always been kind to her and she actually liked them -- had met her outside of church after Sunday services, and told her that his orders to them were to bring her to meet him at the new construction site. There was no work going on there on Sundays. Why was he there? Why did he want to see her there? When she asked, though, they just shrugged their shoulders. "Tiffany, we don't ask. We just do. You don't ask Frankie why. Ever. You know that." And when she asked if she could change her clothes first, since she preferred not to go to a dusty construction site wearing the black dress, heels and stockings that she had worn to church, they told her no, that their orders were to take her right then. And they always followed Frankie's orders to the letter.
Yes, she knew. He was the boss. No, he was The Boss. The construction boss in northern New Jersey. Which meant that he was more than the boss of construction. And, as his girlfriend for the last eight months, she had seen displays of his legendary temper. And what happened to people when he lost it. It wasn't pretty. But she had her reasons for staying with him. For one, power turned her on. So here she was, sitting in the middle of the back seat of a black Town Car, a goon on each side of her, as the driver arrived at the fenced site at the outskirts of town where, in a few months, there would be a large new warehouse. Today the industrial area was quiet. She remembered that it was Sunday.
As a man inside opened the gate for them to enter, and the car moved toward the actual building site, Tiffany could see the large hydraulic crane, which was no surprise, but she thought that she could also see its operator inside its cabin. She also could see two cars. Frankie stood in front of one of them, with four men standing behind him.
The goons helped her out of the car, and she started to walk toward Frankie to find out what was going on. But he held up his hand for her to stop, and his words, spoken calmly and evenly, sent shivers racing through her entire body. "I know what you did. And I am going to handle the situation right now."
As the two goons, one on each side, held her tightly, Tiffany looked up to see that the hook at the end of the steel cable of the crane had been moved directly over her head, a long rope hanging from it. The two goons quickly cuffed her wrists together in front of her, then pulled her arms up and secured the cuffs to the hanging rope held by the hook. Her toes now could barely touch the ground, stretching her body taut.
So he knew. How much he knew she wasn't sure, not that it mattered. She had been paid well to spy on him for one of his rivals, and she had thought the risk worth the money. She had been wrong.
The two goons now tore her dress off in their bare hands, then the lacy black bra and panties that she wore under it, revealing that the dark triangle patch of hair between her legs did not match the blond hair on her head. The goons wasted no time gawking at the shapely body and ample breasts that had drawn her to The Boss's attention and allowed her to enter his bed.
As the crane operator raised the hook holding her cuffed wrists, she tried to kick at the goons, her heels flying off in the effort. They pulled off her garter and pulled down her stockings, one coming completely off, the other left hanging at her ankle, as the crane now raised her naked hanging body high off the ground. Killing her wasn't enough for Frankie. He wanted to humiliate her, too, in her final moments, letting his men see her in all her nudity and terror. A lesson to them all.
[see Pic 1] Tiffany began to scream and kick hysterically, her breasts shaking, her legs opening and closing, as the crane now swung the chain holding her wrists around toward the men, who were staring up at her and smiling at her plight. Finally moving directly over a small open pit of liquid lye near which the men stood, the crane began to lower the chain, and Tiffany, toward it. Her screams now grew even more frantic, as she desperately tried to keep her legs raised as high as she could. [see Pic 2] But her situation was hopeless as the chain continued to lower, and, finally, her exhausted body hung down, just before her toes hit the white liquid. The rest of her body soon followed, her stretched hands the last visible part of her before the liquid consumed everything below the crane's hook. [see Pic 3]
"Good work, men," The Boss nodded in each of their directions. "Now, the next thing that I need you to do is help me find a new girlfriend."