Mother and Child Reunion
“This is a very special day – you understand that don’t you?”
The three people were sat around a rough wooden table in the kitchen, drinking coffee and studying the plans for their task. The older man was about five ten, in his late fifties with grizzled grey hair, a powerful build and piercing blue eyes. The younger of the two men was like a de-aged version, with dark brown hair that was starting to recede, while the woman was thin, well built and with shoulder length blonde hair. Both of them were in their twenties, with the young woman the elder by a couple of years. They were dressed in boiler suits, with roll neck sweaters underneath, and on the floor next to them lay a number of duffle bags that were bulging with the equipment they would need.
“We take the first target, and then bring them to where the gathering will take place. We’ll have a while to wait then, but it will be worth it if we get back what we have lost.”
The women nodded. “When do we get started?”
“As soon as we finish our coffee – we have to be nice and early for our first visit.”
“When are they expecting us?”
“About eleven o’clock – the others will get there an hour or so later.”
“I’d better get a move on then.”
Debbie stepped out of the shower, pulled a towelling robe around her wet body and made her way into her bedroom, a smaller towel wrapped around her hair. Sitting at the dressing table, she unwound the small towel and allowed her dark brown hair to fall around her face and shoulders.
“Can you get that, Mum?” she called out as the front doorbell rang, and she finished towelling her hair off. Standing up, she slipped out of her bathrobe and drew a black bra with white lace trim from a drawer. Fastening the clasp at the front, she turned round the garment and eased her breasts into the cup as the straps went over her shoulders then she fished out a black g-string that matched the bra and placed them over her crotch.
Eyeing the long blue and white dress she had laid out for the reunion, she drew from another drawer a pair of white stockings and sat on the bed. Slipping one over her left foot and pulling the top up, she heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, so after pulling the other stocking on she stood and looked at herself in a full length mirror.
“Who was it, mum?” Debbie asked as the bedroom door opened, but before she could turn around a white pillowcase was thrown over her head, covering it completely. She barely had time to say “What th….” before a thin band was pulled into her mouth over the pillowcase, pushing the fabric in and stopping her from calling out. A male voice whispered “Come with me” in her ear as she was pulled out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Debbie heard muffled sounds as a second pair of footsteps came out of the front room, and she realised that her mother had been grabbed as well.
“Get them in the van,” an older man said, “we’re running late as it is.”
Holdforth Manor is set aside from the main road that runs through the sleepy old Shropshire village. The home of the Holdforths for centuries, the current head of the family was a judge of repute, recently widowed but with four adult daughters and grandchildren as well. Today was to be the day of his retirement, so as a special surprise his daughters had arranged a family gathering to meet him when he returned from his office.
Mary was the oldest daughter, in her early fifties but with the body of a woman half her age. She had arrived earlier and let the housekeeper go for the day, before calling her younger sister and arranging for her to come and help set things up
“Helen and Debbie will be here in a little while, and then we have some clear time before you arrive. We can at least get the main room set up,” she said as she looked around the large living room. She was dressed casually, in a black strapless top and a blue cotton mini skirt which was fraying slightly at the edges.
“Where’s Julia now? She’s sorting out the kitchen, I think – the caterers should be here soon, and then we can get started.” The sound of the main doorbell echoed into the room. “Actually, that’s probably them now. I’ll see you later, Cathy – bye for now.”
As Mary hung up the telephone, her daughter Julia was making her way to the front door. An A-level student, she had just arrived that morning, and was looking forward to seeing her cousins. Dressed in a white vest top and jeans, she quickly opened the door, and said “How can Iiiiiiiii”.
Three people in boiler suits and jumpers pushed her back into the room, the woman closing the door behind her. They all had surgical gloves on their hands, and were wearing balaclava masks. One of the men spoke.
“Shut up and do as you’re told. Where’s you r mother?”
“Iiiii - in there”, she replied pointing to the main room. “Son – go and make sure she is ready for us,” the man said, and the other man walked quickly into the room. “You – hands behind your back and shut up,” the man said, as the woman drew a length of white rope out of a bag she had set on the floor.
“Julia, who was that at the….” Mary said as the door opened, but the scream that escaped her when she saw the masked man walk in with a bag in one hand and a gun in the other was too faint to be heard.
“You – lie face down with you hands behind your back,” Son said as he placed the bag on the floor, opened it and drew out several coils of white rope. Mary looked at him, at the rope and then lay down as he had demanded.
Pulling her wrists behind her, he quickly lashed them together and tied the rope off. Helping her into a seated position, he took a longer length of rope, passed it around her wrist bindings and then around her waist, puling it so that her wrists were secured against the small of her back.
She watched as Julia was pushed into the room by two more masked intruders, one male and one female. Her daughter’s hands were secured behind her back, wrist tied parallel to each to her, as the female pushed her over to a long couch and made her lie face down on it. “Are you all right, Julia?” She said without noticing the other man starting to bind her ankles together.
“What’s going on, mummy?” Julia asked, but Mary just shook her head. “I don’t know dear – what is this all about,” she demanded of the other man.
“All in good time. Daughter – finish binding the young girl.”
“Yes, Father,” Daughter replied as she crossed Julia’s ankles and wrapped rope around them. In the meantime, Son passed a long length of rope around Mary’s neck and under her thighs, pulling them up so that she was forced to sit with her knees against her chest and her legs bound tightly together. She was then pushed over onto her side, as more rope was passed around her wrists and then back along the crack of her bottom towards her ankles.
“That hurts!” she shouted, but Father just laughed as he knelt in front of her face. “Shut up,” was all he said as he held her nose until she was forced to open her mouth, then stuffed a balled up bandana inside before strip after strip of silver duct tape was plastered over her lower jaw. She lay there, mute with her hair falling on the floor, and unable to help as Daughter took a red bandana and rolled it into a band, before tying a knot in the middle.
She took off her gloves, rolled her sleeves slightly back and gently stroked Julia’s dark hair away from her face. “Open wide and don’t struggle, this will be over before you know it,” she said. Julia nodded as she opened hr mouth and allowed the gag to be tied tightly into her mouth.
“Right ladies, we’re going to be here a while, so just stay calm and don’t struggle. Son – why don’t you bring the other young lady in here?”
The two woman looked at each other as the younger man left the room, wondering what they were talking about. That was soon answered when Son returned with a young woman, wearing a black bra and g-string with white stockings, and a pillow case over her head with the cloth pulled into her mouth by a stocking. She was sat down in a wooden chair, facing both Mary and Julia, before the stocking was cut free and the pillow case removed.
“What the hell is…. Aunt Mary! Julia! Oh shit – this is for real isn’t it?” Debbie exclaimed as she saw where she had been brought.
“It certainly is,” Father said as he looked at the young woman. Her wrists were pulled behind her back, and her arms secured to her chest with layers of coarse brown rope, which also ran under her shoulders and around her neck. She watched as Daughter took more of the brown rope, knelt down and secured her ankles together.
“What have you done to my mother?” Debbie asked. “Good question – Son, go and bring the other woman in,” Father replied, “and Daughter, make sure she is well secured to that chair. I don’t want these three surprising the rest of the family later.”
“You know best Father,” Daughter whispered as she began to tie rope around Debbie’s lower legs. She looked through the open doorway in time to see Son bringing in another hooded woman, her wrists tied behind her back, and a hood over her head.
“Mum!” She called out, and the hooded woman turned her head and called “dby!” , before Son led her up the main staircase. Daughter continued to wrap rope around Debbie’s legs and the seat of the chair, then around her waist securing her firmly to the wood.
“Your mum’s going to be just fine – but you need to be quiet now,” Father said as he walked behind Debbie, carrying a large blue cloth and a strip of brown cotton. Pinching her breast, he waited as Debbie let out a yelp of pain before stuffing the blue cloth into her mouth and using the strip to secure it into place, tying it off over her long brown hair.
“Once Son has finished with her mother, we’re going to wait for the rest of the family to arrive, and then we can begin,” Father said as he sat in a chair where he could watch the three women. “Daughter, go and give your brother a hand.”
Helen was sat on the bed, mumbling as Son passed more white rope around her body to secure her arms to her side. She had been taken by surprise by the Family when they had rung the doorbell, and barely had time to react before the hood was placed over her head. Her bathrobe had been left in the van, so she was only wearing the black bra, panties and stockings that she had put on before that doorbell went off. Her wrists were bound behind her back, forearm to forearm.
The cloth was taken out of her mouth and the hood removed, as Helen blinked at her reflection in the wardrobe mirror. Her greying hair was still pulled back in a strict pony tail.
“Lie down,” Son said as he pushed her over, crossed eh rankles and started to bind them together. As he finished this task, Daughter came in and drew a cloth and a roll of white tape from the bag,
“Make sure she’s full secure or Father will be upset,” she said, and Son nodded as she bound her legs together above her knees. Passing the loose end of a long length around her ankles, he pulled them back and wrapped the rope around her wrists, and then her waist, before passing it around her neck and knotting it off so that Helen was left in a hog tie.
“Why are you doing this,” she cried as Daughter brought the cloth over.
“We have business with your father,” she said as she pushed the cloth into Helen’s mouth, then used the white tape over her lips and lower jaw to hold it into place. “Your sister and your daughters are downstairs with Father, so I suggest you shut up and do nothing to cause them and distress.”
Helen nodded as the two intruders left her lying on the striped cover, wondering just what they wanted with Judge Holdforth.
“How much further is it?”, Wendy asked as the car drove into the village.
“Not long now, Dear” Cathy called over her shoulder. “You used to love coming here as a child.”
“Well I’m twenty now, Mum,” Wendy retorted, and Suzanne had to stifle a laugh. The youngest of the four Holdforth girls, she wasn’t married, but enjoyed teasing her sisters over their daughters.
“Here we are,” Cathy said as they pulled into the driveway of the manor house. Stopping the car, the three women stepped out and looked over the front of the building.
“I wonder what the others are up to,” Suzanne asked. “Probably planning a surprise welcome for us,” Cathy said as the three women walked up to the main door and walked in.
“Girls, we’re here,” Wendy shouted out, but there was no reply.
“Strange,” Suzanne said as she walked towards the main room. “Perhaps they’re…. RUN!!!”
She had opened the door to see the three bound and gagged women struggling and trying to call out, but as soon as her warning got out she was grabbed by Father and pulled into the room. Cathy and Wendy looked at each other, and turned only to be confronted by both Daughter and Son, each with a gun in their hands pointing at them.
“Inside,” Son ordered as he motioned with his gun, “and no funny stuff.”
The two women put their hands on their heads and walked in to the chorus of muffled groans. Suzanne was also standing there, her hands on her head and her white top rose so that her midriff was showing over her short powder blue skirt.
“Right ladies,” Father said as he let go of Suzanne and she ran over to join the others. “You do as you’re told and we’ll be gone soon. We just need to make sure you can’t interfere in our plans for a while.”
“Where’s Helen,” Cathy asked with a defiant look on her face.
“Upstairs – don’t worry about her. Daughter – why don’t you take this one into the next room and make her comfortable.”
“Yes father,” the masked woman said as she took Cathy by the arm, and bag in her other hand, and led her out of the room. She took her into a box room, where a number of items were scattered over the floor. Cathy held herself as Daughter closed the door behind them, her bare arms around her purple and black top. The slit in her short black skirt also showed the top of the black stockings she was wearing.
“All right,” Daughter said as she took a length of rough brown rope out of the bag, “hands behind your back.”
“Now, Son, take the young girl upstairs and make sure she can’t raise the alarm. And Son?”
“Yes Father?” the young man replied as he took Wendy by the arm.
“No funny stuff, I mean it.”
“Yes, Father,” he grumbled as he took the young woman up the stairs. She glanced into an open doorway and saw her Aunt Helen struggling on a bed, before Son dragged her into another bedroom. She stood there in her white blouse and straight linen skirt, looking at the young masked man.
“I’m sorry,” she replied.
“Strip – take your clothes off and then turn around with your back to me.”
“Now, what are we going to do with you?” Father said as he walked around Suzanne, and then glanced at the clock. “Time’s wasting – so no time for anything fancy for you I’m afraid.” Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a roll of black tape. Turning Suzanne round, he grabbed one of her wrists, pulled it behind her back and then brought the other one down before starting to wrap the tape around both of them.
More tape went around her arms and chest, above and below her breasts, and pulled tightly so that they were made to strain against the fabric of her top. “Sit down,” Father ordered Suzanne as he pushed onto another couch opposite where Julia was lying, and started to tape her crossed ankles together.
Cathy was sat on a pile of cushions. Her wrists were firmly tied behind her back, and there was rope around her waist to hold them in place as well as above and below her breasts, with short lengths cinching them so that her arms were held firmly in place. Daughter had tied her ankles together, and now was securing her legs above her knees.
“What is this all about?” Cathy asked as the last knot was secured.
“We have a favour to ask of your father, and this is the way we ask favours,” she replied as she took more rope and secured Cathy’s thighs to the rope around her waist. “Now be quiet – I have a surprise for you.”
“Very nice,” Son said as he looked at Wendy. She was stripped down to a pair of light blue knickers, and stood there with her arms around her as she faced the wall. “Anyway, time to get going.” Taking a length of white rope, he pulled her hands behind her back and began to lash then together, while Wendy started to cry.
“There – that’s just perfect,” Father said as he took one last picture. Cathy was sat on the couch, her legs bound with tape at the ankles, calves and thighs while her white shod feet lay over the armrest, and with layers of black tape over her mouth to hold the cloth gag in place. She watched as he took pictures of the other three women, before looking on as if it was a job well done.
“If you will excuse me, ladies, I need to make sure the rest of you are secure, and then we will join you for a short while. Don’t go away,” he laughed as he left, closing the door behind him.
“In here, Father.”
Father entered the box room to see Cathy glaring at him. A large orange ball gag had been pushed into her mouth, and securely buckled at the bas of her neck over her hair with a thin strap. She tried to move her arms and call out as more photos were taken.
“Very good, Daughter – now keep an eye on the others while I check upstairs.”
After ensuring that Helen had not gone anywhere, Father found Son tying a black cloth into Wendy’s mouth.
“Do not worry, Father – I haven’t touched her except to bind her,” he said as Father looked at the young woman on the mattress. Rope had been tied over her arms and chest so tightly that her small breasts looked as if they were going to explode. There was also rope around her waist, legs and ankles, and she was looking at them as if trying to formulate a plan of escape.
“Relax, young lady,” Father said as he stroked her hair and took photographs, “It will all be over soon. Come on, we have calls to make.”
The two men left the girl struggling on the mattress, and while Father composed a text message Son and Daughter kept watch over the seven captives. One hour later, the telephone rang and Father listened as a message was left.
“It’s done – now for God’s sake let my family go!”
“Come, Son and Daughter, our work is done,” Father called, and the women listened to the sound of a van driving off at speed. They started to scream as loudly as they could, in the forlorn hope that someone, anyone would hear them…..
The taxi pulled up outside the semi-detached house, and a women in her late forties stepped out clutching a small bag. She was ordinary, dressed in a grey jumper and skirt with a leather jacket, and looked around as she walked up the garden path and rang on the doorbell.
A young blonde haired woman opened the door, a smile beaming on her face, and let the woman in. Together they walked through to the kitchen, where a grey haired man was sat with another who was obviously his son.
“Welcome home, Mother,” Father said as he stood up, came over and embraced his wife.
“It’s good to be home,” she said as she put the bag on the table. “Have these two behaved themselves?”
“They were a credit to you while you were away,” Father said as he pulled a chair out.
“Good, then you can tell me all about it before I tell you what I think we should do next,” Mother said, a smile slowly creeping over her face.