Appraisal - Part 2








The pub was busy, the usual crowd making the usual noise as the juke box played.  Pam was sitting at the bar, sipping her vodka and coke when the doors opened and a hush fell over the place.


“Good evening,” a deep male voice said as four people came in, dressed in the uniform of the Salvation Army, “We are here as always to collect for the poor and needy, so please give generously.”


Pam’s eye was taken by one of the two female officers in particular.  She was five seven, and from the way the jacket fitted her she was at least a 38D by her estimation.  She walked easily, but with a smile on her face as she presented the collecting tin to Pam.  As she pushed a pound coin in, she heard her say quietly “Thank you” as she walked to another customer.  Draining her glass, Pam looked round as she walked out of the pub, taking up a position in the road opposite as she watched the four walk out and make their way down the street.


She followed from a distance as they went to the rest of the pubs on the street, and then walked round the corner towards the Salvation Hall.  As they walked down, Pam could hear them talking excitedly, until they stopped in front of a small terraced house.  She could see the one who had taken her money handing the collecting box to one of the men, before waving to them as they departed and walked further on.  As the young woman walked up the garden path and let herself in, Pam watched closely, waiting for the light to go on in the front room before she quickly made her way towards the door.




Sheila had just put the kettle on when she heard the front door bell.  Sighing, she unbuttoned her jacket and placed it over the back of a chair, revealing the short sleeves of her blouse, before walking towards the door.  She had hoped to have the rest of the evening to herself, for her own pleasure, but it seemed that would need to be postponed for a little while.  As she approached the door, she allowed herself a little smile at the sensation she was feeling, before straightening herself up and opening the door.


“Yes, can I help you,” she said as she opened the door, only to be taken by surprise as she was pushed back into the house and against the wall by a blonde haired stranger, holding a knife against her throat as she kicked the door closed behind her.


“Not a sound,” she said with a snarl as she pressed Sheila against the wall, the blade tickling against her skin.  Sheila watched, wide eyed as the girl pulled a large white cloth from the large bag than hung over her shoulder, wadded it into a ball and held it in front of her mouth.


“Say ahh,” the girl commanded as she pressed the knife against Sheila’s throat.  Nodding, Sheila opened her mouth as wide as she could to allow the girl to stuff the cloth in, the ends protruding from her lips as she tried to close them.


“Keep that in there,” the girl said as she turned Sheila round and forced her to face the wall.  She stood there, sobbing as the girl reached round and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, taking it out from her skirt before pulling it gently down her arms.


As Pam pulled the blouse down, she noticed that her victim was wearing a wrap round pale blue bra, made of thin lace that allowed her nipples to be seen underneath.  “Where’s your jacket,” she whispered, and when the woman indicted with her head towards the kitchen she grabbed her by the arm and frog marched her in the direction, the blouse hanging down her back as she kept the knife against her throat.


Sheila was starting to cry as she was pushed over the end of the table, helpless to stop the intruder removing her blouse and hanging it over her jacket on the back of the chair.  She felt her arms been pulled behind her back, and then a rasping sound as they were held together with a thin white plastic zip tie that the blonde had taken out of her bag.  The plastic bit into her skin, making her give out a muffled yelp, but not as much as when she felt her elbows been pulled together, forcing her arms to be parallel to each other and her chest to press against the wooden table.


“Not exactly regulation wear, is it?” Pam said as she pulled Sheila upright and tweaked the nipple on her left breast.  Sheila squealed as she felt the pain, but she was also beginning to feel something else – a feeling she thought hard to resist, even as it felt so good.


“Let’s have that skirt off,” she heard Pam say, and she tried to twist out of the way, knowing what would happen.  All that made Pam do was press the knife against her throat again as she pulled Sheila’s hair, forcing her victim’s head back as she growled “I’m going to take your bloody skirt off, so stop struggling.”


Sheila stood still, blushing as Pam slowly pulled down the zip and allowed the skirt to drop to the floor.  As it slipped down, Pam looked at Sheila’s legs, before she burst out laughing and turned the bound and gagged girl round.


“What is this,” she said as she looked down, “An new form of self mortification?”  Sheila blushed a deeper shade of crimson as she looked down, then back into Pam’s eyes.  She was wearing a pair of very skimpy briefs, made of the same material as her bra, but that was not the real surprise.  What was the rope that had been tied around her waist, just below the top of her skirt, and passed between her legs.  The lengths between her legs were knotted at three inch intervals, and pressed tightly against her crotch.


“Like it,” Pam said as she looked at Sheila, who smiled and nodded.  She had been into self-bondage for many years, since she had played games with her brothers, but this was something she had wanted to try for some time.  She had worn the crotch rope all day at work, and tonight while doing the collections, and nobody had suspected.


Until now.


“Nice job,” Pam said as she pulled the rope up, making Sheila both sigh and giggle at the same time.  “Well, we need to see if we can make you – comfortable,” she said as she pushed Sheila towards the stairs.  “Come on – where’s your bedroom?”


As they climbed the stairs, Sheila moaned at the pressure against her crotch, and the way her arms made her feel at that exact moment.  Indicating her room, she watched Pam open the door before pushing her in and forcing her to lie down on the large bed.


Placing her shoulder bag on the bed, Pam removed another zip tie and use it to secure Sheila’s ankles together, crossing them before the rasping sound told her captive they had been bound together.  Removing her shoes, Pam used a second tie around her legs, just below her knees, and then around her thighs, the plastic digging into her skin as it was tightened.


“Plssltntm,” she mumbled to Pam as she was turned over onto her back.  She watched as the intruder quickly searched through her furniture, pocketing what she could find.  Sheila tried twisting round, realising she was enjoying her situation far more than she probably should.  She saw Pam stop as she opened one drawer, and picked up a small red object.  It was about three inches in length, tube shaped with a rounded end.


“You are a naughty girl,” Pam said as she turned to look as Sheila.  “Do you want to be punished?”


“Yssss.” Sheila said as she watched Pam walk over and switch on the vibrator, slipping it into her briefs as she lay there.  The feelings it generated made her moan even more as she turned onto her side and moved her legs up and down as much as she could.


Taking a thin black tie, Pam forced the band between Sheila’s teeth, pulling the cloth deeper into her mouth as she secured the ends together at the base of her neck.  The young woman did not even notice, her eyes closed as her body twisted in response to the situation and moans coming from her as she started to buck slightly.  Shaking her head, Pam closed the door and made her way downstairs, Sheila’s shoes in her hand.


As she walked into the kitchen, she removed the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing, as well as the moccasins that were on her stocking clad feet.  Picking up the brooch that Sheila had left on the table, she smiled as she picked up the blouse and slipped the short sleeves over her own arms.





“So, why did Carol specifically set us the task of stealing these outfits?”


“Well, I can tell you now – if you want.”


The four girls stood up as Carol Parker walked in, her long denim coat moving with each step that she took.


“First of all, congratulations on passing the first part of the test,” she said as she came to the table.  “Mister Parker is very pleased with all of you.


“Now, we have a job to do for the next part.  Millie and Pam – you’re going to pay a little visit to a house and get the additional information we need.


“Kal, Suzie, you come with me – I need to get my own uniform before tomorrow morning...”







Audrey was driving along, minding her own sweet business, and not paying a great deal of attention to what was happening on the streets around her.  The peaked cap was placed at a jaunty angle on her head, while the Daimler she was driving purred like a contented kitten.


She enjoyed the life of a chauffeur, driving people from place to place, but she was glad she only had one job on her books for the day.  The Area Manager of Western Bank needed picking up and taking to one of the local branches, and she had drawn the short straw on that one.  It may have been six thirty, but he liked to make an early start, so she had to be there within the next hour.


So when the dark haired waitress waved her down suddenly on the quiet street, she stopped rather more sharply than she intended to.  “What’s wrong,” she said as she allowed the electric window to go down.


“Please, can you help us,” the girl said with a look of concern in her eyes.  “My friend her just collapsed.  This nurse was passing and offered to help, but we need to get her to A&E and there are no ambulances available.  I know it’s an imposition, but can you take us in your car?”


Audrey looked at the thin, dark haired woman who was lying on the ground, her denim greatcoat opened as the nurse next to her was checking her pulse.  “She’s breathing, and doesn’t seem to be hurt,” the nurse said as she looked up at Audrey, “but we need to get her to the hospital to be sure.  Can you help us?”


“What happened to her?”


“She just collapsed – I think she’s had a fit or something.  Please, will you?”


“Give me a minute to open the door,” Audrey said as she turned and walked back to the car, the heels of her knee length black leather boots clicking as she walked away.  The legs of her tight fitting trousers were tucked into the boots, while a matching jacket covered her crisp white blouse.  Opening the rear doors of the Daimler, she turned and watched as the waitress and nurse carried the woman between them, her arms resting on their shoulders.  As they helped her to sit in the back of the car, the nurse walked back and picked up her handbag.


“I’ll ride in the back with her,” she said as she sat in the rear seat.  The waitress walked round and let herself into the passenger front seat, as Audrey climbed back behind the wheel of the car.


“It’ll take me about ten minutes to get to the A&E – will she be all right,” Audrey asked as she looked in the rear view mirror, only to see the woman open her eyes and smile.


“I’m sure I’ll be just fine,” Carol said as she removed a small pistol from the bag of the nurse and pointed it at Audrey.  “Kal, Suzie, my thanks for your help – I will see you in due course.”  The other two smiled as they left the car, Audrey watching Carol the whole time.  “Now then, dearie, I need you to drive exactly where I tell you – understand?”


“What’s going on,” Audrey said, her eyes fixed in the mirror.


“You’ll find out soon enough,” Carol said with a smile.  “Now, drive – I’ll tell you where to go.”



Twenty minutes later, Audrey was standing by her car, having parked by a deserted warehouse.  She was shivering, standing there in a white camisole top and briefs, her bare feet hopping up and down on the concrete, as she watched Carol tying her own black tie over the blouse the armed woman had forced her to take off.


They were similar height and build, so her uniform fitted Carol well, as she pulled the jacket over her upper body and fastened it up.


“Very nice,” she said as she looked at Audrey, “but we need to keep you out of the way for a while.  Inside.”  She pointed her gun at Audrey and forced her into the warehouse, which had been stripped bare.  In the centre of the floor was a heavy wooden chair, with leather straps on the legs and arms.


“Sit down,” Carol said as she pushed Audrey forward.  The frightened girl sat n the chair, offering no resistance as Carol strapped her wrists and ankles to the heavy oak frame.


“You can’t just leave me here,” Audrey said as Carol pulled the last strap tight, “Nobody will find me.”


“That’s the idea – for now,” Carol said as she picked up what Audrey thought was a leather panel.  It was – only with a rubber ball fixed to one side and straps on either side.  She tried to protest, but that was muffled as Carol forced the ball into her mouth and securely strapped the pad into place.  “Have a nice day,” she said as she picked up the peaked cap and put it on her head, the muffled squeals fading as she walked out to the car and started to drive away.






“I’m sorry, can I help you?”


The woman looked at the policewoman and SA officer standing on her doorstep, wrapping her blue dressing gown around her as she did so.


“Mrs Harris?  I’m WPC Jones, and this lady is one of our community support officers.  Could we come in please?”


“What’s this about?”


“It’s about your daughter, Mrs Harris – I’m afraid there’s been an accident.  IS Mr Harris home?”


“Oh no,” the grey haired woman said as she put her hands to her mouth.  “John’s inside – you’d better come in.”  The two women removed their caps as they walked into the detached house, Mrs Harris closing the door behind them.


Twenty minutes later, a white Daimler pulled up the driveway in front of the house.  The chauffeur got out, her knee length boots clicking on the flagstone path as she walked up and rang the door bell.  The door was opened by the WPC, who looked at the driver with an approving eye.


“Nice,” she said as she held the door open.  “Come in – we’re nearly ready.”



Interlude 1


The wind was ripping through the warehouse, making Audrey shiver even more than when she had been strapped into the chair.  She tried calling out again, but with no response, as her mind went back to how she had ended up in this predicament.



“Pull in and turn the engine off.”


As Audrey cut the power, she looked back at Carol, sitting in the back seat of the Daimler and smiling.  “What are you going to do with me,” she asked in a quiet voice.


“Borrow a few things from you,” Carol said as she moved to the side of the car.  “Keep your hands where I can see them, and don’t move until I open the door.”  Audrey sat there, hands frozen on the steering wheel as Carol let herself out, removed her coat and laid it on the back seat, before opening the driver door and pointing her gun at the chauffer.


“Out,” she said as she waved the gun, “and stand beside the door, hands in the air.”


As Audrey slowly moved her booted legs out of the car, Carol cast an approving eye over the young woman.  Her slim legs, the jacket fitting snugly over her chest – she knew she had made the right choice.


“What is this all about,” Audrey said as she looked at her captor standing there.


“Like I said, I need to borrow a few things,” Carol said with a smile.  Take off your cap and jacket, and lay them on the driver’s seat.”


“Take off...”


“Your hat and jacket, and lay them on the seat,” Carol said with a hint of menace.  Audrey slowly unbuttoned her jacket, and laid it on top of her cap, followed by Carol’s urging by her tie.  “Turn round,” Carol said, and as Audrey slowly did so Carol noted the zips that ran up the back of her knee length boots.


“Take them off.”


“I’m sorry?”


“The boots – take them off and leave them by the side of the car.”


Slowly, Audrey crouched down and lowered the zip on each of her boots, stepping out as she felt the cold concrete under her bare feet.  Carol could now see the stirrup pants she was wearing more clearly, and again allowed herself a smile.


“Now then,” she said as she left the gun on the roof of the car and reached to the top button of her blouse, “Take your blouse off and hand it to me.”




“Because I want you to – unless you’d rather not see tomorrow.  Just do it.”


Slowly, Audrey unbuttoned her blouse as Carol removed her deep red top.  She handed it to her captor, who smiled as she pulled it on herself, noting the white silk camisole she had on underneath.  Carol had laid her own blouse on top of her coat in the back seat of the car, as she buttoned up her new top.


“Now the pants,” Carol said as she slowly unbuttoned her own trousers.  “Quickly – I don’t want to stand around in the cold too long.”


“What about me?”


“You won’t be standing round for long either.  Just hand them to me.”  As she laid her trousers on the back seat, she grabbed the pants and watched Audrey wrap her arms around herself as she pulled the pants over her own legs.  Her shoes were already in the car, as she took the boots and pulled them over her lower legs, the leather hugging her like a second skin as she pulled the zips up the back.


Carol looked over at the young woman and smiled to herself.  Picking up the gun, she waved Audrey to one side as she walked forward, putting the gun back on the roof of the car as she watched the driver.  Picking up the tie, she started to wrap it round the collar of the blouse, licking her lips at the thought of what was coming next,



And now here Audrey was, sat in the warehouse, along, a damp patch between her legs, and wondering what was going to happen next.





Interlude 2


Pamela walked confidently down the street, the heels of her brown leather boots clicking on the concrete as she approached the branch office of Western Bank.  She could see her three assistants standing outside, their coats done up against the wind as they waited for her.


“Why the early start, Pam,” Corrine said as Pamela fished the keys out of her great bag.  “Big boss Harris is coming,” she replied as she started to unlock the heavy wooden doors, “He wants to lead our training session personally – something to do with security and response.  Inside all three of you.”


The four women walked in and started to take their coats off as Pamela locked the door behind them.  All were in the regulation uniform of Western Bank – a light blue blouse with a brown scarf around their necks as a cravat, a black jacket and knee length skirt, and knee length brown leather boots.


“All right girls,” Pamela said as she turned round, “I’ll get the alarm, you get the kettle on.”



Interlude 3


Elizabeth Harris watched as the three uniformed women sat with her husband, explain what was going to happen.  She wanted to speak, but could not – her mouth was covered with a strip of brown sticking plaster.  Her wrists were secured behind her back with a pair of handcuffs, while her ankles were secured with a white zip tie.


Eventually the woman she had thought was a police officer came over and cut the strip away, the chauffer watching.  “Get her in the boot,” she said to the other woman, “Time we were on our way.”  Her husband watched, horrified as she was forced to her feet and frogmarched to the door, tears running down her face.


“After you, Mister Harris,” Carol said as she picked the pistol up from the table and waved it at him.




Final Appraisal


The ring of the intercom made Pamela sit up and look at the small window on her screen.


“Mister Harris is here,” she said as she saw the man standing looking in the camera, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.  “Make yourselves presentable girls – I’ll go and let him in.”  Pushing her chair back, she walked towards the rear of the branch office, as the other three girls started to smarten themselves up.


Had she tarried a moment longer, she may have seen Mister Harris been hit on the head and dragged off, but hindsight is a wonderful thing...


“Good Morning, Mister Harris,” Pamela said as she opened the rear door, only to step back as the liveried woman walked in, a black eye mask over her eyes and a large pistol pointing at the branch manager.


“Just step back and put your hands on your head, the woman said as she was followed in, much to Pamela’s surprise, by a police officer and what looked like a member of the Salvation Army.  Both also were wearing masks, and while one was carrying a large canvas bag the other had a sawn off shotgun in her gloved hands.


Pamela looked at the three women, her hands on her head as the sleeves of her jacket fell down her forearms.  “What is this,” she finally said, “and where is Mister Harris?”


“Spending some quality time with his wife,” the WPC said as she pointed the shotgun at Pamela.  “Where is the rest of your staff – and keep your hands where I can see them. I don’t want any silent alarms pressed.”


“In the main office.”


The other woman dropped the bag and picked up the telephone.  “Get them in here,” she said as she handed the handset to the chauffer, “and make it nice and normal.”  She punched a button marked “Cashier” and waited as Pamela looked at them.


“Corrine?  I need you, Elaine and Josie to come in and meet with Mister Harris.


“Yes I know – but we are not due to open for another hour anyway.”


As the handset was taken away, the WPC took up position behind the door and waited as the other three women walked in.  “What is it, Mister....?” Corrine started to say, but she stopped and put her hands to her head as she saw Pamela and the armed masked women standing there.


“Which one of you is Elaine?” the masked woman dressed as a chauffeur said, and the blonde haired woman at the back of the trio raised her hand.


“Go and open the front door to let our colleagues in,” she said as the WPC stepped forward and grabbed her by the arm.  “You two – in here, kneel down and put your hands behind your head.”


As Corrine and Josie slowly got on their knees, Elaine was frogmarched to the front door, as the WPC said “Open it.”  As she opened the door, she watched to her amazement as a nurse and a waitress walked in, both also masked, and closed the door behind them.  The waitress took a pistol from her pocket and levelled it at Elaine.


“Back into the office,” she ordered Elaine, and as the trio walked back in they saw Pamela with the chauffer standing behind her, while the other two staff members knelt on the floor.


“I want you,” the chauffer said as the nurse closed the door, “to take me and my friend here to the safety deposit boxes.  You three – make these other ladies nice and comfortable.” 



“Girls, remember your training, and do exactly what they tell you,” Pamela said as she was dragged to a heavy wooden door at the rear of the office, the nurse following behind.  The WPC smiled as she looked at the three women standing there.


“What do you think, girls,” the waitress said as she closed the door.  The other two nodded as they forced both Corrine and Elaine to their feet.


“All right girls,” the Army officer said as she opened the bag, “Jackets off, then the scarves and blouses.  Please, try and fight us – we love a good fight.”






“I have a list of numbers here,” the chauffer said as she took a slip of paper out from her inside jacket pocket.  “You will take each one out, in turn, and place it on the table for us to look at.”


“What are you looking for,” Pamela said as she looked from her to the nurse, who was smiling as she stood there.


“None of your business,” the chauffer said as she looked at the list.  “Box number 62, if you please.”


Over the course of the next half hour, Pamela took out a number of boxes and opened them with her master key, watching as the two robbers systematically examined the contents.  In some cases they simply closed the box, leaving the papers inside.  In most cases, however, they took time to examine carefully the jewellery that was inside, before selecting some items and placing them in a velvet sack, and others back in the box.


Eventually the chauffer said “That’s the lot – so, what are we going to do with you?”


“Leave me here,” Pamela said as she looked at the two armed women.  “I can’t raise the alarm from here.”


The door opened and Pamela looked over, expecting to see Corrine walk in.  Instead she saw a woman she recognised as the one dressed as the Salvation Army officer, but now she was wearing the dark jacket, skirt, boots and scarf of one of her colleagues.


“Having fun,” the chauffer said as she looked at the new arrival.


“Yes,” she said as she took the velvet bag from the nurse and handed her the canvas bag.  “We’ll see you outside in a few minutes.”


“What have you done to the others,” Pamela said as the door was quietly closed.


“I think you’re going to find out,” the chauffer said as she pointed her gun at Pamela.  “Take you jacket off and hang it on the back of the chair there.”


Slowly, Pamela unbuttoned her jacket and laid it on the chair back, the short sleeves of her blouse revealing more of her pale arms.  The nurse placed her gun on the table and looked at Pamela with a smile on her lips.


“Now the blouse,” the chauffer said as Pamela watched the nurse slowly unbutton the front of her uniform, “and hand it to my friend.”


“You can’t be serious,” Pamela said, but this only made the chauffer walk forward and place the gun against her cheek.  “I’m not joking,” she said quietly, “blouse off.”


Slowly, Pamela unbuttoned the blouse and slipped it off her body, handing it to the brown haired woman.  As she stood there, her arms around her body as a black laced bra offered her only protection, she watched the woman put on her blouse and button it up.


“Now the scarf,” the chauffer said, and she watched Pamela slowly unwind the scarf from her neck and hand it over.  As the nurse tied the scarf around her own neck, the chauffer walked over and stood behind Pamela.


“Hands behind your back,” Pamela heard her say, and as she slowly moved her arms round she felt rope pass around her bare wrists as they were pulled tightly together.  Feeling the rope with her fingers, she stared straight ahead as her elbows were pulled together, forcing her chest out as the rope went round.


The nurse knelt down at Pamela’s feet and slowly unzipped her boots at the side, feeling her stocking covered legs as she did so before lifting her foot out and moving the boot to one side.  Repeating the process on the other side, she then took a further length of rope from the canvas bag and passed it round Pamela’s legs below her knees, drawing them together as she wound it round and round, then between her legs.


“Why are you doing this,” Pamela cried out as she watched the nurse pull the rope tight and tie the ends behind her legs.  “Because you have a nice pair of boots,” the nurse said as she stood up and held Pamela’s chin in her hands, “and because it’s fun.”


As she looked at the nurse, Pamela barely noticed as the zip at the back of her skirt was pulled down and the garment dropped to the floor.  The prod of the gun in her back made her step forward, allowing the nurse to take the skirt and slip it over her own waist before she sat down and pulled the boots onto her own legs.


“Down,” Pamela was told as she was pushed down on her shoulders.  Falling down onto her knees, she felt the rope tighten still further around her knees as he rankles were lashed together with more rope, the chill hitting her legs between the top of her stockings and her black briefs.


As she was pushed over to her side, Pamela started to cry as the nurse pulled her jacket over her own shoulders.  “A little loose,” she said as she buttoned up the jacket, “but I like it.”  She knelt down, the boots of her stolen boots creaking as she did so, and lifted Pamela’s head up.  “Open wide,” she said as she held a small sponge ball in her hand in front of Pamela’s mouth.


Ss she allowed the sponge to be pushed in, she heard a ripping sound, before she felt the pulling on her skin as a strip of black tape was smoothed over her mouth.  As two more were applied, the chauffer closed the canvas bag and watched the nurse pull Pamela’s legs back and tie them to her wrists.


“Have fun,” she said as the two women walked out, leaving Pamela on the floor of the room to try and get free.  Walking to the manager’s office, they joined the other three intruders as they looked at Corrine, Elaine and Josie sitting against the wall.


All three had also been stripped, leaving Corrine in a white slip, Elaine in a blue silk vest top and panties, and Josie in a frilly cream lace bra and knickers.  All were bound and gagged, while next to them lay the uniform of a waitress, a WPC and an officer in the Salvation Army.


“You four go out of the front door,” the chauffer said as she took the canvas bag to the rear entrance, “I’ll meet you at the rendezvous later.”  She watched the four women in the bank uniform leave the office, before blowing a kiss to the three women looking at her.  Their muffled cries only seemed to make her smile even more.


“Have fun, ladies,” she said as she stepped out of the door.  Removing the eye mask, Carol strode to the waiting Daimler and climbed in, driving off into the main street.




Half an hour later, she stopped in the warehouse she had left earlier and climbed out of the car.  She stopped for a moment, listening to the thumping from the boot of the car, before taking the bag and walking over to a waiting Jaguar.


“Good morning, Mister Parker,” she said as she climbed into the passenger seat, “The girls have all passed their appraisals as expected.  You will find the items selected in the bag,”


“My thanks, Carol,” Mister Parker said as they left the area.




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