Author Topic: The Sad and Happy Masks  (Read 1177 times)

Offline HistBuff

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The Sad and Happy Masks
« on: March 01, 2022, 05:11:07 PM »
Disclaimer: Rape in reality is despicable and wrong; the author of this story does NOT condone real-life rape in any shape or form. Rape in fiction can be a fun way to explore one's fantasies. If you don't understand the difference between fantasy and real life, stop reading right now. All characters featured in this story are at least 18 years old.

This story was first posted for a contest on another site. The reader may find the atmosphere interesting. It's a kind of story I have very seldom found anywhere on these forums. The rape action is somewhat softer, but the women are nothing short of glamorous! I hope you'll enjoy this time-travelling journey!


Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to see is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

This is the City. Los Angeles, California. I work here. I’m a cop.

It was Tuesday July 7th. It was hot in Los Angeles. We were working the daywatch on Robbery Division. I’m Sergeant Joe Black. My partner is Frank White; the boss is Captain Ryan Grey.

I was using a pencil sharpener at the wall next to a poster that said “It’s time to roll up your sleeve... GIVE BLOOD NOW!” in large red letters with a large drawing of a smiling man doing just that.

I went back to sit at my wooden office, on which rested some sheets of paper, a 1950-model black phone with a round dial, a few pencils, my fedora hat, a half-empty glass of water, and a half-burned cigarette resting on an ash tray. I was filing a report about some old lady who had been forging cheques.

Opposite me was a similar-looking desk with similar things on it, where sat Sergeant White, my partner, wearing a navy blue jacket while mine was a dove grey flannel model. Both of us wore narrow black ties on the usual white shirt.

We were tackling a most unusual case of serial robbers.

The L.A. Police Department just couldn’t get a hold on them. There were two of them; one wearing a Happy Mask, the other one donning a Sad Mask. Both wore a large black gown with their white masks.

According to witnesses, the Sad Mask always did the talking. He spoke with a disguised voice that ran a cold chill through their spine; they could tell he could shoot someone in cold blood. They weren’t tall nor large. They stood about 5’3 or 5’4 and were of a slim build. Maybe they’d been circus acrobats or something; a lady had said they moved very gracefully.

They would hit seemingly random locations, and didn’t only rob banks. Their two first hold-ups had been banks. But then they had hit a suburban restaurant called the Golden Pheasant on a very busy evening, and left with $750 in cash. This was a hefty sum, about a quarter of the average worker’s yearly wage, yet it hardly seemed to be worth risking one’s life for.

It looked like they were doing this for kicks more than money. Our job was to stop them!

The phone rang.

“L.A. Police Department, Sergeant Joe Black, Robbery Detail! ... ... ... Mhh mhh... Yeah... ... All right! We’re on our way!”

I quickly hung up the phone, grabbed my hat and looked at my partner...
“Frank! The Sad and Happy masked robbers struck again! Hold-up at the bank on South Broadway, just north of 9th Street! A security guard was shot. He’s in the hospital in a very bad shape. If he pulls through he might give us important information!... Let’s go!”

Knowing the guard was in intensive care, we first drove to the bank, which was in a bustling part of town. An eye witness said that two masked men armed with revolvers had ordered everybody to stay put right where they stood and nobody would get hurt. They wore black gowns and white masks; a Happy Face and a Sad Face. Both were short with a slight build. They moved fast and very gracefully, like ballet dancers.

A security guard had tried to sneak up from the side. He had managed to grab the revolver-holding arm of one of the robbers and was about to disarm him, for he was a tall, active man, but the other one shot him point-blank in the belly, firing twice.

Then they quickly took cash money, around $1,200, from the terrified clerks and made good their escape using a grey Studebaker that had been parked right in front, no doubt a stolen car.

The witnesses couldn’t give us any more information. The stolen car had been found in a backstreet not far from the bank. It was a 1950 Studebaker registered to a Mr. Hughes Smith, reported stolen very recently.

At the hospital, the shot security guard was still in intensive care, fighting for his life. We could only pray for him and his family. We found his young wife in tears in the waiting room.

Next morning, we sat again in our City Hall office along with papers, a cigarette and a coffee.

“Something strikes me”, I said. “The witnesses all said these robbers were short men with a very slim build. They also said the security guard was easily overpowering the Happy Mask before the Sad Mask shot him. Could these robbers be women?”

“That would be odd!” replied Frank. “But the disguises they’re wearing and the way they operate are so unique that this wouldn’t entirely surprise me. I think, unless that bank guard comes around, we should go see that policeman who found the car and ask him some more questions.”

Officer Wallace was a tall, alert young man with a promising career ahead of him. I asked him if, by any chance, he had seen two young women walking side by side near the place he found the car. The graceful way the robbers moved led me to think they must be young.

It was a very long shot! The robbery had occurred in a very busy part of town, in broad daylight with lots of people passing by. However, Officer Wallace had noticed two ladies, strikingly beautiful and dressed with style. Their gait indicated they were in very good physical condition. One of the two had become noticeably nervous when she saw him in his police uniform; the other one had laid a hand on her shoulder and spoken to her. At the time, he had been on the look-out for male suspects and didn’t make much of it.

He said that both women were brunettes of average height and a slender, alluring figure; pale skin and lovely features too; aged in their mid-to-late twenties. They could have been movie actresses!

We went to R&I and asked them to look for any record for a pair of female robbers working together. No leads there. We made sure no journalist learned of our suspicion about the robbers being female. It was essential to keep this one advantage we had on them; our only one so far.

At the Los Angeles County General Hospital, the security guard had miraculously pulled through. We met him.

Steve Duncan was still very weak; we were only allowed a couple of minutes with him. Even in his feeble state, his handshake struck me as belonging to a heck of a strong man! He had been a rugby player before the war. Served with distinction in the Pacific. Then, after his discharge, he had been hired as a security guard at that bank and he had been working there for the last seven years. His young wife was pregnant with their second child.

He began by saying he was sorry for letting the robbers get away. They had made him drop his handgun and step back with his hands up. We told him that he had been very brave to do what he did.

Steve Duncan was positive. The robbers were both women. When he had grabbed the Happy Mask, he had heard a subtle high-pitched whimper and as he grappled with her, he had been shocked at how easily he was prevailing; then the Sad Mask had whispered “It’s OK Amy!” as she shot him twice.

We told him to keep this information in strict confidence. For the first time, we were no longer in the dark, but we didn’t have much.

Their next hit came three weeks later; it was a large coffee shop on 6th Street West. We called all police cars available to move in and be on the look-out for two strikingly beautiful brunettes, dressed with style and walking just between themselves, one of whom would be named Amy, Amanda, Amelia or Amelie. We were looking for a needle in a haystack!

Soon, the neighborhood was teeming with policemen patrolling on foot and watching all passersby.

Two ladies were spotted. They were interrogated on the sidewalk and proved quite cooperative. One of them was named Amelie Portman. They were taken downtown for further interrogation. When asked about the bank robbery and the shooting of the guard, they said that three weeks before, they had been visiting relatives in Colorado.

We checked their story and called their relatives in Colorado. We also checked with their husbands’ employers and all rang true to their story. We released the two young housewives, whose husbands were positively furious when they came. They calmed down when we told them about the guard who had nearly lost his life.

There were two millions of people in Los Angeles. It was easy enough for two young women to take the bus and then vanish. They could even boldly enter a small restaurant nearby and quietly eat while watching the police cars zooming by and laughing between them as we were looking for them all over the city like busy bees.

Given the way they operated, it was impossible to know when and where they would strike next. Unless we got lucky, they would always elude us. And then another bank guard, or an innocent citizen, would get shot... We had to stop them!

One morning in late August, a traffic officer turned up in our office. He had a very interesting story to share with us.

Officer Bill Talbot was friends with a landlord who often rented rooms to female tenants. The prettiest ones were usually welcomed for a surprisingly low rent.

Last July, this charitable friend had rented a room to a pair of strikingly beautiful women, both with dark hair. Since they had good looks and offered two months right away as down payment, he had accepted their cash money without asking questions.

The landlord spoke a lot of them. Their names were Betty and Amy. They were very quiet in their ways and were good tenants. They looked lovely indeed; Officer Talbot had seen them himself from a distance. However, something had struck him when his friend told him that Betty had dyed her hair blonde very recently.

He was surprised, for he had overheard a conversation between the two women and a housewife walking her dog on the sidewalk; Betty and Amy had told her that their black hair was their utmost pride! Why then would they suddenly want to dye their hair?

What’s more, the landlord had heard them arguing about this very subject. Betty had been admonishing Amy for refusing to dye her own hair, telling her that "she needed to go blonde, or else things would get too risky".

“I think this is it!” I told Frank after Officer Talbot had left.

They no doubt remembered having been spotted by a police officer shortly after they had abandoned the grey Studebaker; they wanted to change looks.

We drove there right away, along with a marked police cruiser for back-up. We told the two officers to park far enough and stay out of sight until we called them.

The place was located in a beautiful residential neighborhood on Odin Street, a wide avenue full with lush majestic trees.

When we came, the landlord was off to work and none of the suspects was home. We spoke with the landlord’s wife, who basically repeated Officer Talbot’s story, except she sounded jealous of the two beauties.

Then we got out of the landlord’s house and took our watch in front of the women’s door. It was a long watch. The back-up police car was relieved. Then, about 7 P.M., as the light was waning into dusk, Frank started and said...

“Hey Joe! Here they come...”

A Ford Sedan of a recent year, I’d say 1951, pulled in on Odin Street and then turned and stopped in the front alley. Two very attractive women—one blonde who was driving, the other one a brunette—stepped out of the car and walked into their lodgings; they walked like angels.

We immediately got out of our unmarked car and I knocked on their door.

The blonde woman answered with a cold, haughty air on her features...

“Yes. What do you want? If you’re salesmen, we’re not interested. Goodbye!”

I stopped her from closing the door on us and showed her my police badge.

“I’m Sergeant Joe Black from L.A. Police Department, and this is my partner Frank White. We have a few questions to ask you. Can we come in? ... Thank you M’am!”

Both looked strikingly beautiful indeed! Betty, the one who had dyed her hair blonde, looked like actress Lizabeth Scott, a classical-style golden-hair woman with an alluring, pin-up-like figure. She presently wore a plaid dress, with black and orange diagonal lines on canary-yellow fabric and jazzed up with a stylish white collar, along with a narrow and sleek black belt underscoring her trim waist and feminine figure.

Amy had remained her natural dark color with straight hair, neat bangs and an even neater bun in the back of her head; her last-decade hairstyle beautifully underscored the slenderness of her soft-looking face; she had a perfect mouth shape, perfect lipstick shade, an ideal nose shape and brown eyes to die for. Her black dress wonderfully highlighted the artistic whiteness of her complexion. She looked amazingly like actress Jane Greer. Her delicate hands told me she must have very arousing feet.

We began asking them routine questions. Their answers were rather elusive, yet not illogical and in fact, their stories made sense but were impossible to verify.

At one point, I suddenly looked at the brunette, whom I knew was Amy, and I plunged my iron-cold gaze into her eyes...
“Amy, the security guard that your partner shot is still alive! And he said YOU are women!”

Amy looked at me with a gaping mouth; her pale face turned ghastly white.

But you shot him point-blank! Didn’t you Betty? ... HHHsorry...”

Amy hissed and put her hand on her mouth as she realized—too late—that she had done a gigantic blunder.

Betty had reacted fast! Frank was supposed to be watching her, but he’d later confess that he had been looking at Betty’s lower legs a little bit too much for our safety.

Betty had her revolver out and trained on us before we could do anything.

“HANDS UP, COPPERS! All right! Now, drop your weapons, slowly. Don’t try anything funny... All right, good boys! Now step back and stand there with your backs against the wall... That’s it. Good boys! Stay there!”

“You stupid fool!” she said to Amy before ordering her to get to the car and look if the coast was clear.

“You won’t get far!” I said. “The station got your car’s licence number. As soon as they don’t hear from us, they’re going to zero in on your location and hunt you down! This man you shot in the bank isn’t dead; don’t become murderers! You better turn yourself in!”

“Shut up copper!” replied Betty.

“Come on Amy! Go to the car! I’ll be right behind you!” she added.

As Amy went out, Betty ordered us to turn around. I felt a chill of fear running down my spine. What if she shot us down like dogs? But then I was struck on the head.

I was groggy, down on my knees with a sharp pain in the back of my head, when I heard their car engine starting. Frank helped me back to my feet.

We ran to our unmarked car and called the back-up cruiser and all other units as we quickly drove off after them. We had seen them turning westward and knew they didn’t have that much of a lead. Betty didn’t strike us hard enough with her revolver.

“Car 7-14 by! This is Sergeant Black calling all units! Our 10-20 is house number 74 on Odin Street. The two suspects got away in their car and are heading West; it’s a Ford Sedan 1951, all black with no white walls on tires, licence plate number 3, Uniform, 3, 7, 4, 6, 7. I repeat... Ford Sedan 1951, black, plate number is 3, Uniform, 3, 7, 4, 6, 7. We’re giving chase and request assistance from all available units! 10-4!”

The chase was on! They were heading West, driving fast on the narrow, winding streets. We saw their tail lights in the evening dusk. They took Camrose Drive, then we were after them on Hillcrest Road, all the way to Franklin Avenue, where they turned West. They were expertly negociating all these twists and bends, but our modified Police Mercury 1953 model had a more powerful engine and a better suspension. We were slowly gaining on them.

They must have been aware of that, because they didn’t keep going straight on Franklin Avenue. They suddenly turned north on Outpost Drive, then they drove straight north with all the speed they had. Frank was relaying our position constantly, so we knew several cruisers were close behind us.

They were trying to lose us in that maze of trails up there in Hollywood Hills, but they were taking the risk of running into a dead-end. Unfortunately for them, I had walked throughout these parts when I was a little boy. I knew intimately these twisting trails.

They eventually made their mistake. I smiled; they were screwed!

I slowed down, knowing they had driven into a dead-end. We had them cornered!

As I drove closer and saw them stepping out the door, their heads moving in panic, I grinned. It was even better than I had thought. There was a high chain link wall that wasn’t there back in the early 1930’s when I was a 12-year-old kid.

One side of the trail was overlooked by a nearly vertical cliff only an athletic climber could do; on the other side was a steep descending slope where bushes were extremely thick, with many rattlesnake nests where no one with a sane mind would want to go. This terrain wasn't friendly to fleeing women in high-heel shoes.

Beyond the chain-link wall was a jagged hillside with huge boulders; they couldn’t drive through that. They were screwed!

We saw many headlights behind us, quickly getting closer. Police cars were zeroing in to join the fun. Indeed, unless our ladies did something crazy, our hunt had come to a successful end.

I felt a growing erection as I stopped the car and watched both our lovely suspects step out of their black Ford in our white headlights. They both kicked off their shoes... Were they really considering running through that rattlesnake-infested slope? I wish they weren’t, as I didn’t exactly feel like pursuing them down there. The bushes and the “down there” I had in mind for them were of a different nature.

They were caught in the middle of nowhere, alone, and we had some leeway time here. I knew my partner well enough to understand he felt pretty much the same way even though he was married with two kids; we had joined the police force the same year. We had done this a couple of times before, but never with women this beautiful!

We stepped out of our car and crouched behind the doors. They were 20 yards away and our headlights made them perfectly visible to us while hiding us to them. I ordered them to surrender...


Amy threw her purse down with her trembling hands, which were nonetheless lovely to look at. Betty was holding her revolver; she was measuring the odds. She hesitated, looked at the steep bushy slope to her left, looked down at her stockinged feet as she stood on the gravel trail, then looked toward us. Finally, she dropped down her revolver on the dirt, where it landed with a subtle thud.

Behind us, several black Mercury police cars stopped. We heard the dark-uniformed officers opening and slamming shut the white doors as they stepped out.
“Good God! These two broads are really classy chassis!” one of the young officers commented.


As our lovely captives stepped back to obey my command, I called the dispatch...

“Dispatch, 7-14 by! Both suspects are running away by foot in difficult terrain, but we got them cornered. No need for further back-up. We’ll soon have them in custody. 10-4!”

Frank saw me grinning. He grinned back.

“If you don’t mind, Frank, I’ll have the brunette and you take the other one! You know how much I love brunettes!” I told my partner while loosening my tie knot.

“Doesn’t make much difference, Joe; they’re both black down there!”

“Yep! You’re right on that count, I mean on that cunt!” I replied, as we approached the increasingly terrified women.

Amy and Betty suddenly realized our intent when we were right at them. When it was too late to run.

Watching Betty’s haughty, confident gaze instantly morphing into the panicked stare of a hopelessly terrified girl was priceless!

Frank grabbed her small wrists, pushed her back against the chain wall and forced kissed her! She spat in his face, anger hardening her features in a flash; then Frank slapped her hard and she yelped and began bawling.

I myself grabbed Amy, who stared back at me frozen in terrified silence. Her dark eyes were life-altering to look into. I forced kissed her and began to “search” her for hidden weapons.

“Don’t forget to search her thoroughly, Frank!” I said in a half-amused tone.

“You bet I won’t!” he replied laughing. Then I heard him speaking to bawling Betty...

“All right Milady! Let’s see what you’re hiding beneath these classy clothes!”

Several police officers in uniform joined us. We became a wild pack pressing ourselves around our lovely captives. Frank began ripping Betty’s dress off while two police officers held the screaming woman’s arms. In a flash, her top was roughly torn wide open before Frank grabbed her white bra and yanked it off with a loud satisfied grunt as he suddenly uncovered her perky breasts!

Betty screamed while her lovely breasts jiggled as she struggled amid her grinning captors, her milky-white flesh brightened by our cars’ headlights against the evening's growing darkness.

Then I savagely turned on Amy! Police officers restrained her wriggling limbs as I violently pulled her black dress right down her shoulders and arms, mercilessly taking her bra along with it and instantly making her topless with her arms pinned against her alluring flanks.

Her pin-up worthy breasts looked back at me with their inviting nipples, pushed out by her panting chest and moving in a feminine dance as Amy wriggled and tried to scream, but couldn’t make a sound. I engulfed one of her pale tits in my mouth and treated myself with this fleshy raspberry, sensing the woman’s wild panic as I tasted her salty-girly sweat under my tongue while enjoying her perfume! This was going to be good!

Near me, at my right, Betty was screaming her life out. From the corner of my eye, I saw that Frank had roughly tucked up her dress all the way up and was urgently inserting his manhood inside her while the two uniformed officers restraining her arms grinned and jeered at her! She was having it! And so was Amy!

I had the officers bending Amy over while I kept pulling her dress further and further down, undressing her hips, then tearing off her panties to get my first look at her mind-bogglingly gorgeous butt! Her two moons of pale flesh almost blinded us with their hypnotizing beauty!

“A really classy chassis, like I said!” repeated the same officer who had made that comment.

Not bothering to undress her Eve-naked and finding that her black stockings perfectly intensified the forbidden whiteness of her skin, I unzipped my pants, quickly spat on my raging erection and then I took my prize!

Almost unaware of Betty who wailed and screamed next to me as she was being raped by Frank, I forcefully pushed my cock inside Amy, who was now quietly sobbing between the pair of jeering officers holding her arms.

I blissfully entered her tight vagina, all the way! Then I grabbed her milky curves and began watching her perfectly shaped butt smacking against my lap as I started to urgently pound her standing doggystyle!

It was amazing! Before long, I felt myself passing the point of no return, enjoying the unstoppable surge of extreme delight taking hold of my entire being, and then my dick exploded!

Losing my fedora hat in the process, I frantically pounded her with all I had while I let out a long-sustained groan and blissfully shot my bolts of thick, steaming jizz inside Amy!

Oh God! She was an amazing fuck!

“Let’s go Harry! You’ll see, she’s very tight and enjoyable!” I said to the more senior officer holding Amy, before taking his place and holding Amy’s right arm as Officer Harry unzipped his uniform pants and took his turn on Amy, who kept quietly whimpering and sobbing under the barrage of dick thrusts rocking her body.

I had shot my load just in time to watch Frank consummating Betty’s rape. Grunting loud like a rutting boar, he was firmly holding her black-stockinged thighs while slamming her with unrestrained abandon as she kept screaming and bawling, her blonde head wildly bobbing in front of his triumphant gaze and her back against the human wall formed by the two burly officers restraining her arms, her tiny hands looking like lost lights amid their mass of darkness.

Then Frank screamed like a banshee as he unloaded his cum inside the violated Betty!

We all felt how amazingly strong he had cummed! Raping these two suspects was so much fun! Strictly off the record.

Then Harry let out a similar scream of carnal relief as he shot his bolts of jizz inside the filled-up Amy.

The next officer who took her upped the ante and had her screaming loud in searing pain as he began raping her ass. He was overweight in his early forties. This rape was gross and beastly; he stood there, pumping his dick inside Amy’s asshole with frothing saliva dripping from his pleasure-gaping mouth until he shot a powerful load of cum, half of which splattered Amy’s lovely butt as he exited her shithole.

In the meantime, the pair of burly officers had laid Betty down on the ground. One held her girly arms down while his mate finished undressing her with feverish violence. He pulled all her garments toward him, swiftly uncovering the alluring whiteness of her stretched legs and bare feet as he pulled! I contemplated the contrasting blackness of her cunt hair, which formed a neat triangle between her legs.

Her lovely brunette's cunt disappeared hidden by the policeman’s naked butt as he dropped his uniform pants and began mounting her, kneeling and powerfully holding her hips clean off the ground and rocking her entire body as she unwillingly received his forceful hipthrusts!

Watching Betty’s breasts jiggle amid her rape as she cried and whimpered was priceless! I remembered how haughty she had been when she had answered the door, thinking we were salesmen... Now she was down on the dirt, her arms pinned on either sides of her head as she was shaken nonstop under the overwhelming force of a police-inflicted gang-rape!

The officer groaned loud and long as he emptied his balls inside Betty. Then the men switched positions and Betty’s breast-jiggling ordeal began anew while two more officers waited for their turn while masturbating.

A few paces from Betty, Amy was now naked and down on all fours while taking hard punishment from the next-in-line police officer. This one had chosen her pussy; she was quietly whimpering and sobbing as she endured this comparatively lighter dick pounding.

She even moaned amid her sobs, reacting to forced sensations from her violated womanhood.

“Yeah, yeah... The broad’s liking it! She’s a good whore in training! HA! HA! HA! HA!” The policemen kept mocking and gang-raping her.

She was also forced to take cocks in her mouth, and soon had cum splattered on her pretty face. I watched with priceless satisfaction as Betty was herself forced to kneel and underwent this same form of humiliation!

We spent the next two hours using the two young women as sex slaves. I myself took my turn on Betty, looking straight into her eyes as I blissfully raped her missionary style. Dominating this haughty bitch was beyond words! When I cummed, it proved even more intense than Amy!


On September 12th, trial was held in Department 89, Superior Court of the State of California, in and for the County of Los Angeles. In a moment, the results of that trial. The suspects were trialed and both found guilty of armed robbery. The suspect nicknamed Betty was also found guilty of attempted murder on the person of Steve Duncan, security guard at the Broadway California Bank. AMELIE "AMY" ROSENBERG & ELIZABETH “BETTY” COOPER—Now serving their terms in the California Institution for Women, Corona, California.


Note: Now that the contest is over, I've added the pictures of the two female characters. My only logical option was to place them at the end, for placing them upfront would spoil the mystery and ruin the reader's pleasure! Betty also has her hair dyed, which she only does midway through the story. And with the pictures shown at the end, the rape scene may be even more pleasurable to read the second time!
« Last Edit: March 01, 2022, 05:16:29 PM by HistBuff »
My fantasies have many lights and shadows. Link to my other stories ---

Offline To-Get-Her

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Re: The Sad and Happy Masks
« Reply #1 on: March 01, 2022, 05:32:01 PM »
Well what do you know a sexed "Dragnet' story. Nice use of the existing technology to give an authentic feel to the story. You had the dry delivery of the characters down to a pact! All in all an enjoyable read! merit to come when the sight says 24 hrs is up!
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Offline HistBuff

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Re: The Sad and Happy Masks
« Reply #2 on: March 02, 2022, 08:45:50 AM »
Well what do you know a sexed "Dragnet' story. Nice use of the existing technology to give an authentic feel to the story. You had the dry delivery of the characters down to a pact! All in all an enjoyable read! merit to come when the sight says 24 hrs is up!

Thanks To-Get-Her!
I've watched a lot of Dragnet episodes, this and Higway Patrol, but Broderick Crawford as Chief Dan Mathews was somewhat more lively in his delivery; he had a grumpy voice and a style more reminiscent of westerns than the urban-dry Jack Webb. Some said that Jack Webb was a second rater compared to Crawford. I think they simply had two very different styles. I absolutely love Webb's delivery whenever he was interviewing a suspect.

These episodes offer a good deal of rape opportunities when one bothers to look for them! I also completely adore the actresses from these years; they were usually more lithe and daintier than today's stars. Most of them were a glamorous version of a girl next door with perky charms and exquisitely feminine figure!
My fantasies have many lights and shadows. Link to my other stories ---