My head was throbbing with pain, alright, it wasn’t exactly throbbing but the sensation was very unpleasant, and the dizziness attached to it only made it worst. So my heard wasn’t in it’s better times, and I could raise a hand to help. In the very rare times I had a hangover, I always had my hands free to place them against my head and say something like ‘Rum never ever again!’ as I felt myself miserable. Now I couldn’t do any of these things.
I couldn’t raise my hands, and there was something inside my mouth, something hard and tasteless, being kept inside by another thing, this time something soft, wrapped around my head a bit too tightly. I was… gagged? And… bound?
Yes, I was. And there was something wrong with my hands. I could move my right index finger, but not the others. When my headache had diminished enough I contorted myself and managed to take a peak at my hands. My wrists were crossed and tightly tied up with white rope, and my hands were encased in white tape. Somebody had forced them to make a fist and wrapped tape around without any consideration for the amount used. But whoever had did it, he/she/them had left my right index finger free. I then noticed that I still wore almost all my clothes, the pink jacket of my suit was gone but otherwise...
I worked at the time at a very small yet prestigious law firm. Only the top of the top of the town were their clients, and only for family business. Criminal affairs of the local VIPs were splattered among the other firms, but Donald Haybrook III had managed to achieve a very selected clientele. I suddenly felt the sorrow again, he had passed away under weird circumstances not four days before and the firm was now at the hands of his son, Edward.
My brain was working funny at the moment. Only when I thought in Edward is that I realized that I had no idea where I was, what had happened to me and what was going on. I remembered going to lunch the… day before?… and then nothing.
I went to the restaurant at the mall two blocks down the avenue with Eve and Karen, and we were talking about Donald’s death. He was cardiac and had a fatal seizure in his house, but the weird thing was that he hadn’t tried to use his medicine (that he kept in his breast-pocket) to save himself. The tablets were missing and the police was working on the case.
All three of us couldn’t accept that that old rascal was dead. Donald was a firm boss and a bit too demanding, but a very good friend of all of us. Edward on the other hand…
Then… what had happened after lunch? The headache would last for a few hours, but it was more annoying than anything else now. I looked around. I was in a bare room, on top of a bare mattress, and my legs were free. After two or three ridiculous attempts I managed to stand up and went to the window of the room. I was in the second floor of a suburban house in a deserted suburban neighborhood. I could see about five or six identical house across the street but it was obvious that they were closed, some still had a sign indicating that they had been foreclosed and there was no sign of human activity anywhere.
I must have stayed there for twenty minutes, until my wait paid off. A car was coming up the street! I tried to attract the attention of the driver but I was well gagged, and whoever he/she was the car was too far to my unintelligible grunts be successful.
But someone else heard me.
It came from somewhere inside the house, and whoever was the person responsible for the sounds, I deduced that he or she was also well gagged, and that he/she was kicking or banging something, perhaps a door? I left the room with my legs now working perfectly and, with firm and bare steps, I went to the other side of the floor and found this door bolted and muffled cries for help coming from inside it.
Unlike the door the bolt was brand new, within reach and (with some efforts from my part) I had a realistic chance to open the door. It took me two or three minutes, and a muffled and exasperated cry of ‘Shut up! I am setting you free!’ that surprisingly ended the thumps and bumps that were really starting to annoy me, to open the door.
And Karen opened the door with such a haste that it threw me backward and I landed on my buttocks. She apologized, well tried to anyway, and then started to desperately try to tell me what was going on (later that day she admitted that was exactly what she was trying to do), but she had been as well gagged as myself. Only when I stomped my right feet on the floor a bit too intensely, it hurt, is that she shut up.
All we could manage to utter were ‘MMMPPHHs’ and ‘NNNGGGNNNs’, so conversation was impossible at the moment. And the attempts were quite exhaustive, Karen was panting heavily now. I took a good look at her.
She had been locked inside a small closet, and her clothes showed it. She was disheveled from the top of her auburn long hair to her hose, but her efforts had made her shirt open and one of her breasts had pop out of the white bra. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought that the prude Karen was more exposed than me, I know ‘what a mean thought’, but it happened and I won’t deny it. Her beige skirt was torn at one point and the beige jacket was missing like mine, she was barefoot like me and her hands were totally encased.
She regained her breath and indicated that I had to follow her, and we went through all the rooms of that floor. At the time I didn’t knew what she was looking for, but nothing could stop Karen. She opened doors with her legs, pocked her head inside closets and then started to run while yelling very audible grunts. Then I hit me, she was looking for someone…
EVE!!!
It all came back so strongly that I knelt on the floor. Edward…, Edward had done it to us!
We came back from the lunch, Eve still didn’t accepted her grand-uncle’s death, and we spent the evening preparing the paperwork ready for the important meeting that would happen the following day. Donald’s greatest client, and one of his closest friends, had passed away recently. Until his death Augustus Oliver Thrunborg was the town’s richest citizen, and had no living relative to inherit his ¾ of a billion dollars (half of the world’s most beautiful golddiggers had given him great times trying to become the first and only Mrs. Thrunborg…). The Adele Thrunborg Foundation (named after Augustus mother) would inherit most of the money, with sizeable parcels going to everybody that had worked for him and we had to get everything ready for the reading of the will.
We took a great care doing that because it had been Donald’s last job… Then, Edward said that he had something to tell us after the last of our co-workers had gone home for the weekend. Something very important but also something that demanded absolute secrecy. We didn’t suspected of anything, he was the boss now.
So one by one our friends bid us ‘goodbye’ and ‘see you Monday’, the next day we would fly to New York City, where the Thrunborg Foundation has its HQ, and would be present as we saw the last recorded image of Donald. At around 7 p.m. we were alone and knocked at Edward’s door. We were admitted, entered and immediately raised our hands.
There were two casually dressed women with Edward, and they were pointing guns at us. Edward stood flanked by them with a smug look in his face and told us to shut up, turn around and don’t move. One of the women taped me and the others while the other gave her cover, a few rounds of tape around the wrists and three or four strips over my lips. Then they ordered us to turn around and I took a good look at them. They looked like ordinary women, showing nothing that I could use to identify them later in a line up. Their hairs were obviously wigs and they were wearing big shades, all I could say was that one of them was of my size and shape (more or less) and the other fitted Karen’s measurements.
Edward gave a mocking ‘goodbye’ to his niece and talked like we were doomed to die at the hands of the women, and left the room. He returned after ten minutes and told us that the nightwatchmen had received a substantial tip to take a ‘dinner break’ of one hour, and that the cleaning crew had received another substantial tip to clean the office to the point that there would be no evidence that we or our captors had been there (he would personally supervise it). Ten minutes later we were inside our captors brand new SUV. One of them told us was that the glass of the windows was tilted and that the SUV was bullet and soundproof, so if we annoyed them with ‘vain and fruitless’ attempts to attract attention to our plight, well she said that they would be ‘mean’ to us.
At first we all were the perfect frightened and mute captives, but there was a traffic jam and a patrol car stopped by our window, we could see them but they couldn’t see us, and Eve started to scream at the top of her lungs. The tape muffled a good part of it, but she was very audible to me. One of the women aimed an aerosol at her and fired.
Eve fell asleep immediately, then it was my turn to suffer the effects of the spray and I then I had woken up on that house. It was already obvious that plans for the hearing of the will and thus needed us, the personal assistants of the lawyer responsible for Thrunborg’s will (nicknamed ‘Donald’s Angels’ by our co-workers), out of his way. Poor idiot…
But after his plans failed, for they were doomed to fail, he and the women might be able to return to the house where I and Karen, and hopefully Eve as well, were at the moment. If the police didn’t arrested them, they would return and looking for lambs to sacrifice in the name of their frustrated dreams. We needed to find Eve and get the hell outta there, ASAP!
Both me and Karen grunted and stomped our feet trying to attract Eve’s attention, hoping that she was somewhere in the house. A feeble and barely heard answer came from the stairway. Of course, we hadn’t checked downstairs yet!
We carefully went down the stairs, and almost immediately discovered what the women had said with the ‘mean’ part of their warning/treat. When Eve started to work at the firm, she didn’t wanted that nobody knew that she was Donald’s relative, so we all thought the worst of her and Donald for a few days until he told us whom she was.
But, be honest please, if someday a beach bunny with the obvious long flowing red hair, face and upper body full of freckles and very large breasts (bigger than mine and Karen’s anyway) is parachuted to the desk next to yours, and then your boss shows an obviously bad conceived special attention towards her, to the point of calling her by her first name, and you discover that they are (secretly) having lunch together… What would you think that is happening between the two of them? I thought the same…
Anyway, Eve is a real centerfold, and our captors made sure that anyone that found her was sure of it. They had stripped her almost completely, save for her lacy black bikini cut panties (with a thong), the ropes and the multilayered white tape gag. Her elbows were tied behind her back, actually they were lashed but not together, they only made sure that she couldn’t open or raise her arms or move them freely. And her ankles, thighs and wrists were tied together in an intricate multi-knot in each leg that had demanded a lot of rope to be done. Eve would later say that it was a cross between a hogtie and a frogtie, but after blushing a lot she refused to explain what did it meant, and how did she knew the terms.
Not being overly mean they had placed a clean blanket on the floor before tying her up over it, and her head was resting on a big and soft pillow. But she had been crying for a while, and the bright red shade on her exposed behind told me what they had done with her (she couldn’t sit for a couple of days afterward). We knelt at her side hoping that she had her hands free, so she would be able to free us, but they had taped her fingers like Karen’s and my left ones so we were stuck. There was no way that we would be able to free her and we would not, under no circumstance, leave her behind! The living room where Eve’s was bound was quite large and, at one corner, I noticed a laptop opened and on.
A sheet of paper was taped to the wall next to it, on the paper they had written ‘Push the enter Maureen’ with big and bright blue letters. So that’s why they had left the index finger free… It was tricky, I had to kneel on the floor while practicing contortionism to achieve my goal but eventually I managed to do it. One click to the screensaver go off, another to start a video that I saw back at my place kneeling at the left of Eve, Karen was at the right.
It showed our two captors and another woman, and we all realized that they were more than a bit our lookalikes. There was the lean and busty redhead, the mid-forties (and a bit thin) brunette – me if you haven’t realized it yet – and the early thirties and voluptuous raven haired woman who were using clothes as conservative as our usual ones.
The brunette spoke and we all learned the truth. It seemed a brilliant plan, everybody knew how much Donald and Augustus were friends, so why not add a few more millions for the firm by adulterating the will? Donald had thought otherwise when Edward had told him his plan after Augustus death and had had a discussion with his son, having the seizure in the heated middle of it. And according to them, Edward had pried the bottle with the tablets from Donald’s hands, letting his own father die. He then adulterated the will but had to deal with us, so he had us kidnapped and, while we were watching to the video, they would be all in New York for the hearing of the will (Eve, who was devastated with the revelation of Donald’s murder, chuckled weirdly at that).
The problem, to Edward, was that he had turned them in accomplices in his murder… and had the gall to order them to kill us! They said that they were con-women, not murders, so they would call the police to have us free after receiving their half a million promised by Edward. By then they expected to have crossed the Canadian border. In one of the houses nearby was the sister of one of them, who would guard us from any junkie or the like that decided to use that vacant house to his/her needs. They guaranteed that we would be safe until the police arrived, which they believed would happen by three or four p.m..
They ended the video saying that they had a ‘buxom red’ to wake up and spank up before they left the house, wished us well and the video ended.
Since we were not well known in New York, our impersonators could have been lucky and receive something for all their work of protecting us against Edward’s homicidal greed.
But Donald already knew that his son was… well what he is, and had discussed with Augustus the possibility of he (Donald) end up dying before Augustus, after all both had been young men eons in the past (in his words), and he was afraid that Edward might use to chance and try to fix the will. So, in a bright and beautiful morning of Sunday of three months before, Donald and his ‘Angels’ (who enjoyed the weekend as the personal guests of Augustus) secretly recorded the video-will of Augustus Oliver Thrunborg, which was none other than a live record of the original one.
All three of us appeared on the video, as well as the other persons that would keep a copy of the video-will (one of them was the CEO of the Thrunborg Foundation, another was the mayor of New York and another the mayor of our city) and all of us swore secrecy.
When Edward appeared at the hearing with three ‘new us’ and a freshly printed will… I still have the video of his arrest in my computer, it makes me feel good watch it.
About twenty minutes later we heard someone running to the front door. By that time both me and Karen had sat cross-legged at the right of Eve and, even gagged as we were, we were doing our best to comfort her. The we heard the run, and the front door (which was locked) was opened and a very young women darted inside the house.
I recall exactly what she looks like, but like Eve and Karen I will never tell you guys.
She was nervous and frantic, and said that her ‘big sister’ had called and that she had been arrested. Something went really wrong at the hearing, she didn’t what it was, and they were all in custody. But they, our impersonators, had made a deal with the police after they told them that Edward had ordered our death (and they had recorded proofs of that) but they had only kidnapped us. So as long as they could warn her (the girl) to run, and also tell her to call the police to free us as planned, they would give them Edward on a silver plate…
But the girl was very confuse; she had foreseen herself in Paris, Tokyo and many other places and the downfall to Earth was really devastating to her. So I made a lot of sounds indicating that I wanted to talk to her, she removed my gag and the foam ball inside my mouth, gave a drink of water from a canteen she carried in the backpack she had with her and we talked. I asked her what they had done with our purses and wallets, and then I made a deal with her. If she removed the tape from our hands and left the canteen with us, I would give her my pin numbers. She took over five hundred bucks from my account (and was wearing a great disguise when she did it so the images from the camera were useless to the police), but with our hands free it was a matter of time that Karen and I managed to free ourselves, and the knots in Eve’s bonds were really nasty ones but eventually gave up.
Since I was the only one in conditions to go outside I tidied myself up and, as fast as possible, run three house up the street. There I found my purse and my phone.
The impersonators proved Edward’s plans to kill us and had even recorded a confession of Donald’s murder, so the DA office cut them a good deal. They will spend a long time behind bars, but last month a sensationalist newspaper accused the governor to have personally ordered that they had a privileged treatment from the wardens of their prisons.
Edward is currently in the death row. His accomplices were fired from their firm.
After all the remaining members of the firm received a respectable sum from Thrunborg’s estate we split up. Eve is paying her stay at the benches of Harvard with her part, Karen moved to another state and opened her own beauty parlor and me… well I did the World Tour I always wanted to have, but then I went looking for a job and found one in one of the firms that inherited Donald’s clients. I know, I know…
I am a bit workaholic…