The McCulloch
Legacy - Part 2
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After the
armed holdup the police had decided to take the matter more seriously.
Obviously there was more to Mr McCulloch's life than they knew. Ann Liddell,
the executrix, had found herself in that role because Mr McCulloch had been a
cousin of her late mother. She had never heard of him, much less met him, until
he died. Now she entertained hopes of inheriting the house. She planned to sell
it and was already losing sleep thinking about how she was going to spend the
money. Being unexpectedly captured by a gang of robbers had not lessened her
enthusiasm, and she had made quite a fuss about what she perceived as police
inefficiency. But there was one thing she hadn't told anybody about, and so far
as she knew, she was the only living person who knew it.
When, after
Ann Liddell, Rachel Robinson and Harry Coombs had finally been discovered, all
still bound and gagged, by Harry's manager, Ann had been the first to be
untied. While she was tidying herself, before heading for the bathroom, she had
watched as Rachel was released from the cupboard. As she peered into the
interior she noticed something written on the wall, just before the door was
closed again by the manager. Her first instinct was to open the door again to
see, but that would draw attention to it. It could wait; she would get back to
it. Instead she helped to free Rachel from the web of tape that imprisoned her.
Rachel stood in front of her, bound, gagged and blindfolded, but still managing
to look stylish in a businesswoman kind of way. Looking at the woman's outfit, hounds
tooth jacket with padded shoulders, short black skirt, white shirt, silver
necktie, she thought, I could carry off that style. It does not matter that I
don't work anywhere. Power dressing does seem to work. It hadn't helped Rachel
today, but look at that woman with the two guys who had captured them. They
were definitely taking orders from her. She wondered where to begin with
Rachel. She decided to start with the blindfold. Ann tried her best to remove
the tape carefully. She could imagine the woman’s eyebrows coming away with the
tape. But it didn't happen. Rachel's eyes blinked at the light she hadn't she
hadn't seen for two hours, and then focused on her. She grunted impatiently, as
if she wasn't being untied quickly enough. Ann decided to untape her arms
first, and do it slowly. The gag could stay as long as possible. But now Harry was out of the larder, being
untied by his boss. Ann quickly walked over to it and glanced inside. Nothing.
But as she looked further inside, she saw a row of jars on a shelf, coffee,
pickled onions and the like. And behind the end jar, she thought she saw
numbers written on the wall. Behind her, Rachel grunted angrily and stamped her
foot. Better get back to her, I don't want to draw attention to this, she
thought. Rachel was glaring at her. I'm going to take my time with you, madam,
Ann said to herself. She fumbled ineffectively for five minutes, then said
"I just can't seem to get anywhere with this tape. Anyone know where
scissors might be?"
As executor, she knew she didn't need
anybody's permission to return to the house, but the next few days developments
made her cautious. The police had announced that they would keep watch for a
few days and had advised the three not to go back to the house without
discussing it with them first. Ann was keen to get back and follow up her
discovery, but she wasn't going to involve anybody else, so she would
wait.
In the morning,
two days later, Sergeant Forsyth and his team had arrived in force with
instructions to find whatever it might be that the recurrent burglars were
after. As always the force had too many things to deal with and as soon as they
had checked the ground floor thoroughly they were interrupted, another crime
had taken priority. There was still upstairs, the cellar and the outbuildings
to be checked. Then Sergeant Forsyth and the two detectives left, having
ordered the two WPCs to protect the crime scene. He had taken the phone call,
and the pair had tried to listen in on the heated conversation that followed.
When he was finished he walked over to them "Apparently we can't do what
we came for, not now. Something else has cropped up. Internal politics. There
are insufficient resources, so we've got to return to the station. So you two
are going to protect the scene. What can I say? Try not to be insufficient for
the occasion. I'm leaving one car with you. I'll call to say I’m coming back,
or to call you away. Can't leave just one of you here, but two should be all
right. I really want to get this out of the way. Apparently that Liddell
woman's husband plays golf with our Dear Leader."
The two
policewomen watched as their colleagues drove out of sight, and then looked
back at the property they had been assigned to guard. "Protecting the
scene of a crime", mused Harriet Drummond. that was the official
terminology. "Look at the size of the place!" The property was a
seven bedroom house with three storeys, which sat at the end of a fifty yard
long drive, which was gated at the road end. There was a two storey gatehouse
behind the big house, and another drive led past it, through a gateway into
another tree-lined road. The gates were closed and the police Astra was parked
outside the gatehouse. And then there were the sheds.
"I
wouldn't mind living here" said WPC Sally Stevens. "Probably have to
marry the Chief Constable to get it though."
"There'd
have to be some kind of compensation for waking up next to that old git"
said Harriet. "Do they all turn out like that as they get older?"
"Maybe
you'll find out. You know Forsyth has the hots for you, don't you?"
"Don't
think so" Harriet said with a dismissive smile. "He took
responsibility when I was in a difficult situation, with those glued-up
handcuffs, that's all".
"Twice!
I was there, remember, I saw the look on his face, and the bulge in his
trousers"
"What
about when you and I were both tied up in the cell, and he found us"
protested Harriet. "He seemed to be turned on then, so it's not just me
necessarily, is it?"
"Enough.
It's obvious to me, but you won't have it." said Sally. "Let's look
round. we might find the missing jewels, or drugs, or whatever is supposed to
be here. Let's look in the outhouses"
The WPCs took
no notice of the man who walked past the gateway while they were standing on
the drive, and they didn't notice again when he walked past the other way,
slowly, reading a newspaper. But he was taking notice of them. He observed two
policewomen who seemed to be on their own. One was an attractive short-haired
brunette in her thirties, a bit short for a WPC, in white shirt with rolled up
sleeves, neatly knotted navy blue tie and skirt and black lace-up shoes, and
her colleague was a buxom blonde woman , slightly taller, hair pinned up, about
the same age and of course in the same uniform. Neither officer wore her hat,
which might mean they were here for some time. A police car was on the drive.
He would keep watching till the right moment.
An hour had
passed uneventfully, the pair having looked round the house, not trying to
force any locks and not going in the cellar. "Leave that to the guys"
said Harriet. "Look where it's got me, going into places like that on my
own. Anyway, I don't know about you, but I'm starving".
Sally agreed.
"Me too. And we both know where
there's a fish and chip shop, we passed it on the way. We can't both go
though"
"You go,
Sally" said Harriet after a moment's thought. "If we do get found
out, I'll get more flak than you for going off on my own, because of what's
happened in the past".
"Right"
Sally laughed. "If you went there would be a robbery at the fish shop and
you'd get taken as a hostage, probably be found trussed up somewhere and I'll
never get lunch"
"Oh,
don't. I've had enough of that sort of excitement for a while"
The man known
as C, who sat nonchalantly reading a paper on a bench by the bus stop, further
up the road, was very interested to see the police car leave the house and head
off in the opposite direction. He pulled out his phone.
"Looks
like they've all gone. The two police birds just drove away, just now. OK, I'm
at the bus stop. Five minutes".
Harriet
emerged from the first floor en-suite to hear the sound of a car pulling up on
the pebbled drive. Sally, back already? She went to the landing window She was
puzzled at first to see a dark blue Vauxhall Astra. Then as two men and a woman
got out, she stood dismayed as she realised they matched the description of the
burglars from the previous incident. Why were they back? Obviously, to get what
they didn't get last time. Thinking fast, she realised that they may have been
watching the house. If they had seen Sally drive away, they possibly thought
that there were no police in the house. Butterflies fluttered briefly in her
stomach as she realised what would probably happen to her if they found her.
Well, that wasn't going to happen this time.
She looked
around and decided, as they didn't know she was here, that she could hide, and
remain undetected. They couldn't possibly know she was in the house. So long as
Sally didn't come back while they were here.
Back in what
seemed to be the master bedroom, there was a double bed with drapes that came
down to the floor. Underneath would be just the place to hide until they had
gone. She had to hide somewhere; these were the people who had tied up Mrs
Liddell and her friends. She remembered the precaution that she had learned
from experience, and unfastened her handcuffs from her belt. She didn't intend
to be unwillingly wearing her own handcuffs in the near future. She pulled open
the second draw down in the chest of draws by the window. It contained
bed-linen, which had been shoved in untidily. She supposed the burglars, or Mrs
Liddell, had pulled it out while searching the house. Great, she thought. She
concealed the handcuffs under the linen and closed the door. If they had come
to search further, they wouldn't look there again. She glanced out of the
window again, and was dismayed to see that they weren't there anymore. Were
they in the house? The sound of a door closing, not far away, spurred her on.
She quickly lowered herself to her knees and lifted the bed cover. Nothing
under there to get in the way, just lots of dust. She would have to endure getting
her clothes dusty; the alternative was for her to be discovered. She positioned
herself lengthways, facing the foot of the bed. All she had to do now was keep
quiet, listen and hope they left before Sally came back.
She could
hear muffled conversations downstairs, and the occasional door closing as the
three moved about on the ground floor. She wished they would leave; it wasn't
very pleasant under the bed. The mattress above her smelt stale and musty, she
wondered if the old man had died in this bed. She hastily put that idea out of
her mind. There was dust everywhere; she could feel the layer of it that
covered the floor. Her blouse and skirt would look quite a mess when she got
out.
She pricked up her ears as she heard three pairs of feet coming
upstairs. They were talking intermittently and now she could hear some of the
conversation. "...gone over it with a fine toothcomb. No statements or
anything".
Then another
male voice. “Well, if it's not here, why not. Who's got it? That Liddell woman?
I shouldn't think she knows about it even existing".
A woman
spoke, sounding as if she was the one with authority in this group.
"Listen to me now. Lateral thinking is what you must do. We're looking for
a safe deposit number. It's not going to be a statement or receipt, we'd have
found it by now. Look for a number, scribbled on anything"
Now the
voices were outside the room, coming in. "Needle in a haystack, in other
words" said one of the men in a frustrated tone.
He sat down
heavily on the bed. Under the bed, Harriet blinked as dust descended from the
mattress. As she breathed in she realised with dismay that she was probably
going to sneeze. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth until the
ticklish feeling in her nose died down. But then with her next breath it came
back and she couldn’t keep it silent. Almost, just a kitten's sneeze, but she
sensed the sudden quiet in the room. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but
then the covers were all lifted, on either side and at the foot of the bed,
simultaneously. On her left, a large man was crouched, peering under the bed.
He grinned at
her before speaking. "Better come out, you don't want me to drag you out,
do you?"
"I'm
coming out, stay calm. There's something you should know". Trying hard to
think what to say next, Harriet scrambled out and got to her feet as gracefully
as the situation allowed her to. The man seized her by the right wrist and
twisted her arm up behind her back, just hard enough to make her wince.
"Don't make me break your arm" he said quietly, and as her pushed her
to face the wall, in the corner at the head of the bed "Don't look at
us"
"You
said the cops had gone" said the woman, a round-faced ash blonde in her
late forties or early fifties.
"Saw the
car drive away, didn't I? I didn't know one was still here" said the
second man. The man who had Harriet in his grip spoke to her. "Where are
your mates? You don't have a car, what's going on?"
"That's
what I was going to tell you. We have been searching the house. My colleague
has taken some documents back to the station" She was quite proud of her
spur-of-the moment answer, which was based on the conversation she had
overheard. "I'm protecting the scene, they'll be back for me any time now.
I advise you to wait with me until they arrive, then you can explain what you
are doing here. " She hoped they would run downstairs and drive away in
response to this. It stopped them in their tracks for a moment.
"Sod
it" exclaimed the woman. "We're too late then"
"You
aren't making sense. What were you protecting? Why were you under the bed?
"Wait a
minute. I am asking the questions here" Harriet continued, but the man's
response was to force her arm further up her back.
"No, you
aren't. Why were you under the bed?"
Harriet caved
in. Her bluff wasn't working. "All right. I saw you from the window and I
thought you might be some people who committed a crime here, so I hid. They
tied some people up and took things" She had an uncomfortable feeling that
she was out of her depth again.
"That's us"
said the woman. And now we have to deal with you. What did you hear?"
"Hear?
Not much, under there. I heard you tramping about, why?" She realised that
repeating what she had heard wouldn't be wise.
"Where's
your handcuffs?" demanded the man behind her.
Harriet
thought fast. "We don't all have them now. Only if we expect to arrest
somebody, nowadays". He seemed to accept it.
"We got
any tape?" He addressed the others.
"No"
said the woman disparagingly,” He said they'd all gone, remember. Better cut up
some of these sheets".
Harriet
glanced apprehensively over her left shoulder as she realised the implication
of this. Once again she had been captured by criminals who were going to tie
her up. "No, keep facing that way," said the man, twisting her wrist
again.
"Okay,
no need to hurt me" she protested. She glared at the wall in front of her,
listening as a bed sheet was torn into narrow strips.
Her other
hand was pulled behind her back, and both wrists placed in a crossed position
while a strip of fabric was wound round
them several times, pulled tight and knotted. A second strip was wound round,
vertically this time, tightly knotted, and she knew she was not going to be
getting loose in a hurry.
"Seeing
as you don't have a car, somebody will be coming for you, won't they. Who's
coming, and when?" The woman was leaning close to her now, and she was
tempted to look round. "No, keep facing the wall. No lies, please,
remember we'll be with you when your mates get here".
Harriet knew
she had no options but to tell the truth, or risk their anger when Sally
returned."There's only one, another WPC. She's gone to get us some lunch.
After that, we're just waiting for a call. It would be a lot easier for you if
you just left, right now". She was grabbing at straws, and it wasn't
working.
"Don't
worry about us" said the man who had just tied her hands.
The woman had
less patience. "Just shut her up, get her tied up and out of the way. We
got work to do, and we need to watch out for her mate"
The sound of
sheets being torn continued, then the man behind her held a long strip of
fabric in front of her eyes. She couldn't help noticing the large double knot
half way along it. "No lunch for you" he said mockingly. "You'll
be chewing on this. Open up".
Deciding that
it was best to be compliant, rather than to risk getting hurt, she submitted to
having the knot pushed inside her mouth. The ends were pulled behind her head,
round the front across her face again and forced between her lips before being
knotted at the back of her neck. It didn't end there of course. A length of
torn-up sheet was passed round her upper arm, then behind her and round the
other arm and pulled tight, drawing her arms backwards. The long ends were
pulled round her front, below her breasts, round behind her again and knotted.
Then the process was repeated, the fabric passing above her bust this time,
threaded among the bonds round her upper arms. Looking down, she could see her
white blouse being pulled tight across her boobs, the lacy fabric of her bra
was plainly visible. She couldn't see the buttons because of her tie, but they
were probably near to popping. Then something was being tied round her bound
wrists, and she felt them being pulled upwards and fastened to the bonds in the
middle of her back. All the knots and bonds seemed to get tighter."Don't
let her see us" barked the woman suddenly.
"OK,
don't panic" said the man doing the binding. Harriet knew what was coming
next. A blindfold of torn sheet was wound round her head twice and tied at the
back. "Now her feet, and then she's done". Harriet felt a hand pull
at her arm, she was led to the bed and pushed into a sitting position. She felt
her feet being efficiently bound at the ankles, then the man sat next to her. "She'll
do nicely, won't she" he said proudly.
"Nearly",
said the woman. "She needs to be hogtied, to stop her wriggling about
before we leave. Just use one of the strips, we may need the rest when her mate
gets back if we're still here. You see to that, C, we’ll carry on looking on
the next floor. And don't be too long, don't get up to anything. You know what
I mean". Blindfolded, Harriet couldn't see the look that passed between
them or she would have been worried.
Harriet heard
the two leave the room, and listened as their footsteps went up to the second
floor. Once they were in the room above, she felt the man move, then to her
horror she felt an arm round her, then a hand cupping each of her breasts.
"Do these need tying some more?" he said. "no, they're fine as
they are. I'll get you nicely trussed up quickly or the old bag will be on my
case. But first, fun-time".
He stood up
and, placing a hand under her thighs, tipped her over on her back on the bed,
then lifted her legs so that she lay across the bed. After turning her over
face down, his hand caressed her buttocks. "Has anyone told you what a
lovely bum you've got? Plenty to get hold of!". Harriet had been told this
a few times, but she had a bad feeling about this man. She didn't grunt or
"mmph" an answer, fearing that he would just laugh at her .
"Just too much of a temptation" he declared. He pressed one hand down
in the small of her back to prevent her from squirming away.
She guessed
what was coming next. The hem of her skirt was yanked back. "Hmm, I'm not
disappointed" he muttered lasciviously, in a tone that reminded her of
Leslie Phillips. A hard smack from a big hand, managing to land on both cheeks,
followed at appropriate intervals by eight more. Painful but annoyingly
titillating. The knowledge that he was being aroused wasn't helping her to
remain detached. She really hoped he wasn't going to put his fingers inside her
knickers. But that harsh female voice from upstairs called down. "You finished?"
That stopped him. He gave her a final swat, pulled her skirt down, and pulled
her bound feet up and back towards her bottom. More torn-up sheet deftly wound,
and her wrists and ankles were fastened as close to each other as possible.
Painfully tight. Bastard, she thought. Wasn't it enough that he had spanked
her, he didn't have to make her this uncomfortable. Then he left the room,
hurrying up the stairs to the next floor.
She decided
against any attempt at escape, they were bound to check her before leaving. She
tried not to dwell on that. More spanking, more groping, she hoped not. She
just wanted them to go, then Sally to return, so that she would be freed. It
wasn't so long ago that she had thought her job was just a dull plod, but now
she could do with a break from the continued excitement. She wished she was
telepathic, so that she could tell Sally not to return before they had gone.
The trouble was, she had been away some time, and the criminal trio were still
rummaging about upstairs. The best scenario would be if the gang went, and
Sally came back and freed her soon afterwards. She didn't know if she was too
jittery to face fish and chips now, but she'd just love the chance to try. But
the worst case was that the gang were still here when Sally got back, and she'd
be captured and bound as well. With every minute that passed, that seemed more
likely. Eventually she heard them all descending the staircases, followed by
the sound of an outside door closing. They must have keys, she realised, to have
come in after her. She wondered if they had actually left or were looking in
the outhouses.
Outside the house, H, C and their employer had
unlocked a garage and a shed which stood next to it. The shed was obviously
used by a gardener and only contained tools and gardening equipment. The garage
was more daunting. At the far end was an old sideboard and next to it a
dilapidated cupboard. "Needle in a haystack, I think I already said"
mused H.
"I'm
paying the pair of you bloody good money to look for it, don't forget
that" snapped their female companion. "And the more time that goes by
without us finding anything, the less worthwhile it seems".
H and C
exchanged glances but whatever would have been said next was superseded by the
sound of a car arriving, turning on to the drive. All three moved further into
the garage. "That policewoman maybe" said the woman. "Get ready
to grab her, if it's her. Talk our way out of it if it's somebody else".
As the car stopped and the engine was turned off, she peered round the doorway.
She saw a well-endowed blonde in white blouse, navy blue tie and skirt, holding
a white plastic carrier bag with a cartoon fish on the side. "It's her.
Looks like she's got fish and chips, like her mate said".
"I could
just murder a portion of that" said C
"She's
coming this way. Irish voices, remember"
As WPC Sally
Stevens shut the car door, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the
doors of both the shed and the garage were now open and last time she saw them
they had been closed. Harriet must have opened them up.
She turned to
go to the shed, which was nearest to her. "I'm back" she called out.
"Lunchtime. Found anything?" At this moment, as she reached the door,
she noticed the parked Vauxhall. Her mental alarm bells sounded, but not soon
enough. The sound of feet on the pebbles, a big hand clamped over her mouth, an
arm round her body pinning her arms tight to her sides. Somebody pulled the bag
from her hand. Somebody doing something with her belt, removing her handcuffs,
she realised.
A menacing if
false Belfast accent growled "You can't beat us. Don't fight or you'll get
seriously hurt. Gonna do what I say?"
Sally grunted
frantically, trying to sound affirmative, and nodded her head. She was forced
forward, into the garage. "Don't try looking at us or we'll have to kill
you. I've killed already so I got nothing to lose". The big hand slowly released its grip on her
face.
"You
haven't hurt my friend, have you? "
blurted Sally
desperately. She tried to struggle but now the man forced her arms behind her.
"No, no,
she's kind of incommunicado"
"No, she
can't talk to you just now" said another male voice, also unconvincingly
Irish.
"Let's
make the little lad ready then. Look, this one's got some cuffs" said the
woman impatiently. "I know you two enjoy this sort of thing but I'm paying
you, this isn't one of your own jobs. Get the cuffs on her for a start. No,
hang on a minute. We don't have anything handy to tie her with. Somebody said
the cops had gone, remember".
"Right,
I made a mistake" said C in a tired tone. "We improvise". He
squeezed Sally's arm. "Give us your tights and your tie. Take them off
real careful and pass them back to me. Remember there's three of us and one of
you, so don't do anything stupid. Understand?"
"Yes, I
suppose" said Sally slowly. It was like that time in the cell all over
again, but this time she was on her own. She had no option but to obey and hope
they would go soon. She carefully removed her clip-on tie, without unbuttoning
her collar, and passed it behind her. The next bit was worse. She bent to
unlace her shoes, kicked them off and without lifting her skirt any more than
she had to, pulled her tights down, pulled her feet from them one at a
time and stood upright, conscious of the
eyes of the two men watching her.
When she had
passed them back to her captor, he said "Can't do much with this tie, it's
not a real one. One of those clip things for people who can't do ties up
properly".
"It'll
do as a gag. Roll it up and put it in her mouth. She can do it" the woman
was getting impatient now.
"Can't I
eat my lunch first at least" Sally asked, remembering with some
indignation that she had just spent money on it. A last clutch at a straw, if
they let her do this it might just delay her binding and gagging until
reinforcements arrived. She envisaged herself throwing hot food in their faces
and running away.
C laughed and
gave her bottom a slap. "Looks to me like you should lay off the fish and
chips for a while, love. We're doing you a favour. Now just do it" C
pushed the tie back in Sally's hand. She looked at it. She rolled it up as
small as could be done, fortunately the fabric was thin. She wanted to shout at
them, to say how silly this was, but she didn't want to get hurt. She pushed
the balled tie into her mouth, well aware of how ridiculous she looked. Before
she could dwell on it, her hands were pulled behind her again and the
unforgiving Hiatt handcuffs were clamped on her wrists. Now I'm really captured,
she thought, can't do or say anything.
"I'm
taking the keys with me, so you needn't bother fumbling about for them when
we've gone" he said.
"What's
the best way with the tights?" said the woman, addressing nobody in
particular. H, who had been opening draws in the old sideboard while watching
Sally being "dealt with", spoke up suddenly.
"Problem
solved. Roll of brown tape. Sort they do parcels with. Not much left, but
enough for one lady, even a cuddly one, ha ha.
Here,
catch". He threw it over to C
Sally wished
the tie wasn't stuffed into her mouth, she would have told them what she
thought of their bullying. "I love doing this" said C. "I don't
like cops, it's not often you get the chance to pay them back for all what
they've done to me. At first Sally didn't quite comprehend, hearing the tape
being torn, but then a strip of it was slapped across her lips and firmly
pressed down. This was quickly followed by a second strip. Then she felt it
being wrapped round her ankles, forcing them together, making her wobble unsteadily.
This didn't go on for long before the tape was cut and he began to wrap it
around her upper body, first below her breasts then above them, strapping her
arms tightly to her sides.
The woman
spoke again. "Come on guys, I've let you have some fun but we haven't got
all day. Put her on the floor and finish trussing her up. We’ve got to find
the, er ,what we need to find". Sally noticed that her voice wasn't as
snappy as earlier, but she was dismayed at the thought that the trussing up
process was not complete. On the other hand, they didn't want to say much in
front of her, so at least they weren't going to kill her.
"What
about the tights? I just thought of a fun thing to do. Shame to waste them
,don't you think?" C wasn't going to be deprived of his fun that easily.
"Put her
on the floor and make sure she isn't going anywhere, then you can do whatever
you want with the bloody things" She was getting impatient again. Sally
suddenly felt herself being pulled backwards and lowered to an undignified
sitting position on the garage floor. It got worse. She was forced to the
ground and turned over onto her front on the dusty floor. "Don't look up
at us" growled the man, the same man who had sounded quite jovial a few
moments earlier. She hastily pressed her forehead to the ground. To her dismay
her skirt was pulled up over her bottom, her black frilled panties were pulled
down to her thighs, and she received twelve hard and loud slaps on her
buttocks. The smacks stung so hard, she could have screamed but for the gag in
her mouth. Then suddenly her skirt was pulled back down, but to her horror her
panties were left down. More tape was being wrapped round her ankles, then they
were pulled up towards her bottom and fastened as closely as possible to the
handcuffs with a mass of tape. Then something tight was being pulled over her
head and down over her face. The hands adjusted it. She could just about see
through it, and she realised with a sinking heart that it was her tights. She
heard the tape being pulled from the roll again, then all went dark as it was
wrapped tightly round her head, again and again, over her eyes and mouth.
"That's
her taken care of. Doesn’t she make a cute little present for somebody, wrapped
up like that. Satisfied?" The question was aimed at the woman who was
clearly in charge, Sally knew, but the next remark was for her. "Don't
feel hard done by, officer. Your mate upstairs has had her bum spanked as well.
Fair shares for all!".
"Had
your fun?" asked the woman. "Now let’s find the treasure".
"Anybody
going to eat this?" she heard one of the men say. He had the bag with the
lunch, and she noticed he had dropped the accent now.
Sally heard
them walking away and began to pull against the web of tape that enmeshed her
but stopped when she heard the woman laughing. She didn't have much dignity
left but she wasn't going to entertain them by trying to get loose and failing
miserably. "Best of luck with that" her tormentor sneered. Then the
garage door slammed.
Sally lay
quiet and still for a few minutes. She
couldn't see or speak and could hardly move at all, and she was going to stay
like that until she was found, she realised. The way the cold hard concrete
floor felt through her blouse did not encourage her to move. Much as she hoped
that rescue wasn't far away, she dreaded being found like this, cuffed with her
own handcuffs, her tie stuffed in her mouth and her tights pulled over her
head, her eyes and mouth taped. She remembered when Harriet had been rescued
after being captured by Mrs McKinnon and her accomplice, she had been detailed
to help Harriet while she was waiting to be freed from her jammed handcuffs.
She had helped the handcuffed Harriet in the toilet and couldn't help noticing
that her colleague's bottom was very
red. She had guessed then that Harriet had been spanked, but hadn't dared to
mention it. Her thoughts drifted forward to the moment when eventually, Sgt
Forsyth and the others would turn up and find her. Would they guess that she
had been soundly spanked, like a naughty schoolgirl? She cringed with
embarrassment at the thought of her workmates all staring at her before
starting to release her. Her only hope was that Harriet, who must be trussed up
in the house somewhere, might get free and find her first. She couldn't help
thinking that in reality Harriet was completely helpless somewhere and
desperately hoping for Sally to come to her rescue, and both of them were going
to be disappointed. The more she thought about that, the less likely it seemed.
Harriet had after all been captured and left tied up on five or six occasions
and had never managed to free herself yet. She struggled ineffectually in
helpless anger for a moment, in spite of knowing how pointless it was. The
worst of it was that she was starting to feel turned on by it all, now that the
danger was over.
Upstairs,
Harriet had been able to hear the sound of Sally arriving by car, and at first
she thought that rescue wasn't far off. That hope was soon banished when she
heard the voices of her captors as well as that of Sally. Then there was a long
silence. Harriet didn't know what was going on, but she imagined that Sally was
being trussed up like herself, somewhere downstairs. This was followed
eventually by the sound of a door slamming, one of the outbuildings. Shortly
afterwards, she heard a car engine, but it wasn't the Police car. And it drove
away into the distance. Now they were alone.
So Sally
wasn't coming to untie her after all. Sally had been captured and was almost
certainly trussed up in the shed or the garage, most likely gagged and
blindfolded too. She wondered if Sally too had been spanked. One thing she had
learned in the last few months was that most male robbers seemed to get a bit
frisky when they had a helpless WPC as a prisoner. And every time it happened,
she had found it a bit more arousing than the last time. Like now! She
remembered reading an article about experiments with sensory deprivation, and
that was how she felt now. She couldn’t see or speak or touch, but she could
anticipate being touched. And that feeling between her thighs that wouldn't go
away. What would happen if Eric Forsyth arrived now, alone, and found her like
this? Lying here fantasising was the only course of action that was open to
her. What if it was Richard Gere, or Bruce Willis who found her? Not as gallant
rescuers, but as lecherous opportunists. She imagined the scene. Hands were
untying the torn-up fabric that held her ankles to her wrists behind her back.
Whoever it was straightened her legs out and began to caress them. Then the unseen man, if it was a man, lulled
her skirt up and exposed her bottom. Without a word he began to spank her
enthusiastically. She imagined the big hot hand stinging her bottom. She
wondered if, rocking slightly from side to side, she could reach an orgasm on
her own. His position changed and she was lifted into a sitting position. The
fantasy hero swiftly placed her over his knee and pulled her knickers and
tights down, half way down her thighs. "Bad girl" he whispered in
Bruce Willis's voice. "You really been a naughty little girl" he
switched to Robert De Niro. She imagined her bottom receiving a really serious
spanking, interrupted by interludes in which his fingers explored her moist
vagina. She wasn't going to orgasm though. He kept stopping at exactly the
wrong moment. Don't hold back, she thought. She imagined the man untying her
ankles, placing her face down on the bed, a mound of pillows under her waist.
He jumped onto the bed and forced her legs apart. She heard him unzipping his
trousers. He was going to do it, and get away with it. Helpless Harriet had no
choice but to endure it or enjoy it.
The dream was
interrupted by the sound of cars coming into the garden, screeching to a stop
on the pebbles. Doors were slamming. Willis,
De Niro and company evaporated. She let out a sigh of exasperation. Voices! Sgt
Forsyth, shouting "Drummond. Stevens. Where are you?" Soon he would
be in the room. She decided that this particular fantasy would become reality.
She wouldn't ignore Forsyth's advances any longer.
"The
door opened, she heard it. Footsteps stopped in the doorway. "You all
right, not hurt?" Harriet grunted an impatient affirmative. "We can't
go on meeting like this " said Forsyth in an enquiring voice."Or
maybe we can. What do you think?".
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