The St. Monica’s Grandmothers Group







Ophelia de Witt was the leading member of the St Monica’s Grandmothers Group, set up to help those ladies in the church community to share lessons and ideas when spending time with their grandchildren.  From time to time, they also had a get together in each other’s houses – and it was her turn to host that night.  As a theme, she had said “come as you liked to dress when you were younger.”


Which is why she was putting on the sheer black lace bolero style jacket, tying the ends under her chest as it covered the top half of her black cocktail dress.  She was also wearing a pair of biker style cream coloured leather boots, with the uppers in a lace pattern.


“Well, I was a biker chick at one time,” she said as she looked at herself, her grey hair cut in a windblown style, and smiled as she made her way down the stairs of her detached house.  She went into the front room, and saw that everything was in place, the wine in the coolers, the glasses laid out, the buffet table with the plates of food and the clean plates to one side.


“Still not long enough since I last did one of those though,” she said as she looked at the cheese and pineapple hedgehog, and then poured herself a glass of wine.  Sipping it, she heard the footsteps on the path, and then smiled as she heard the front doorbell ring.


“Here we go,” she said as she went to the front door, opening it as she said “so how have you…”


She stopped talking and then walked back as the four women came in, all identically dressed in grey cat suits that covered their bodies from their heads to the short ankle boots they were all wearing, grey gloves on their hands.  The only thing that was not grey was their faces – those were white, featureless, and one of them was pointing a handgun at Ophelia as two of the others carried large bags.


“Oh my lord,” she said quietly as she raised her hands in the air, “the China Doll Gang?  Others get the Gentlemen Robbers, and I get you?”


All four of them turned their heads to look at each other, and then nodded in unison as the Doll with the gun indicated to Ophelia to walk into the front room.  As she did so, she started to think about what the others might say…


“So you are going to rob me, tie me up, keep me quiet?”


As the Doll nodded, one of the other put the bag down and opened it, taking out a long length of brown rope, which was doubled over with a small loop tied in the middle.  The armed Doll looked at Ophelia, and then twirled her gloved finger round.


“You…  You want me to turn round?”  As the white faced intruder nodded, Ophelia slowly turned round, trying to control her breathing as she saw the ropes fall either side of her neck to the floor.


The ropes were then wound round her arms as they were pulled back, Ophelia watching as a third Doll disconnected the telephone, and the fourth one removed her mobile phone from her purse.  She then looked at the food and drink, and looked at Ophelia, as she felt the rope going round her forearms.


“I’m expecting others – are you going to do this to them as well?”


The Dolls looked at her, before the doorbell rang, and the armed Doll slipped out.


“Hey Ophelia, what are we…  Ah.”


Ophelia groaned as she looked to the door, the ropes being passed round her upper body and arms, as Margo walked in.  She was what could be euphemistically called a larger woman, with short red dyed hair, and was certainly dressed like her youth – in her case, a pink leather halter top and a white knee length skirt, black fishnet tights, and knee length white leather boots with killer heels.


“Hey Margo,” Ophelia said before she grunted as the thin brown rope was pulled tighter, now framing her chest as well, “as you can see, tonight is going to be different.”


“Indeed – from the way they are dressed, can I assume…”


“They’re the real thing,” Ophelia said as the Doll finished tying the ropes off, and then made her sit down before she selected another hank, and shook it loose as she walked behind Margo.  Another Doll took more rope and knelt down, doubling it over before she started to bind Ophelia’s legs together below her knees.


As she wound the rope down her friend’s legs, Margo felt her arms being secured together behind her back, the thin brown rope rubbing on her bare arms as it was wound tightly.  The ropes were then taken round her arms and upper body, this time rubbing on the soft oink leather as it stretched her top over her chest.  It amused her slightly to see the effect, but there was also the sound, the squeaking sound as the ropes tightened and rubbed on her.


Ophelia looked up as she felt her ankles being drawn together, and said “do you know when the others are coming?”


“No – but they are – hey!”


The armed doll turned and looked at Margo as she yelled, moving her head slowly from side to side as she put a gloved finger to her lips.


“Don’t you tell me not to shout, you little masked bitch,” Margo growled, “I’ll shout if I whhntthhhh...”


Her words were cut off as the knot in the middle of a rolled up red bandana was pushed into her mouth, and tied tightly round her head, before the Doll pushed down on her shoulders, making the gagged woman kneel and then lie face down as her ankles were crossed and secured with rope, then her lower legs wrapped as the rope went up to below her knees.


“Do you have to do that,” Ophelia asked as Margo’s ankles were bent back and secured to her chest ropes.  The Doll who was leading the group looked at her and nodded, Margo rolling onto her side and looking at the grey intruders with real anger in her eyes.  She twisted round, her boots and top squeaking as the ropes rubbed on them, before Ophelia said “relax, Margo – you’ll only hurt yourself…”


Margo looked round, and then slowly nodded as the doorbell rang again.  Both looked to the door as the Doll went out of the room, and they heard the front door open.  There was no sound of talking, as the door closed again, and then a third woman walked in.


“Oh lord – a robbery?”


“Whttsuhfhkkhlss,” Margo mumbled as she wriggled round again.


“Well, first things first – stay still, Margo.  Struggle like that, you could end up being sick – and trust me, that is not pleasant.”


“And how do you know that, Alice,” Margo said as she looked at the new arrival.  She had long blonde hair, grey showing at the edges, and wore a denim jacket over a brown scoop naked top with a female face on the front.  Her knee length skirt was also denim, while she wore a pair of wedge heeled brown suede boots over her dark stocking covered legs.


“Not my first rodeo – I will do whatever you say,” Alice said as she removed her jacket, the Dolls nodding as the rope was produced.  “Have they hurt you?”


“No – it’s tight, and my wrists ache, but I’ll be fine,” Ophelia said as Alice watched the rope go over her shoulders, and then the way her arms were pulled back as the masked woman spiralled the ropes down them.


“Hey – how long have you had that top anyway?”


“This one?  I think I first wore it to a Yes gig in the 70’s.”




“Margo, we have to accept this is the situation we are in – I suggest we spend the time in silent prayer.  Actually, it can be quite – liberating.”


“You’re kidding, right?”


“No I’m not Ophelia,” Alice said as she felt the rope around her forearms, and then the gloved hands passing the bands round her upper body, the face of the woman stretching as her top did.  “When we were robbed at home, Eric and I were left tied up and gagged, facing each other, in the nude.   I think we both discovered a few things we did not know that night…”


“Too much information,” Ophelia laughed as Margo groaned, and then she saw the knotted cotton band in front of her own mouth.


“Talk to you later, when this is all over?”


“Oh I think we all may have something to talk about – after all, Diana is not here yet, is she?”


“You have a point,” Ophelia said as she opened her mouth, the green cotton knot pressing down on her tongue as the band was pulled tightly round her head and the ends secured at the base of her neck.  She nodded as she felt the material start to soak up her own saliva, two of the Dolls leaving the room as Alice was helped to sit down next to her.


“So, they never speak eh?  I guess their boyfriends or husbands must love what they say to them.”




“It’s a defence mechanism,” Alice laughed as she looked down, the brown rope criss-crossing her legs from her knees to her ankles, the soft brown material fading as it was compressed under the bands, “and besides, what’s life without a little excitement?”




“Margo,” Alice said with a smile, “we’re all tied up, you’re gagged, and I probably will be in a minute as well – helpless, unable to call for help.  Imagine what could have happened if they were a different group of people.”


Margo and Ophelia looked at each other, as Alice twisted her legs round, then saw the Doll roll up a grey bandana and tie a knot in the middle of it.


“As I said – talk to you all later,” she said with a smile, then opened her mouth and allowed herself to be gagged as the lead Doll made her way into the hallway.



As the doorbell rang, she opened it, a grey gloved finger where her mouth would have been as she showed the latest arrival her gun, and then motioned for her to come in.  She had long blonde hair, falling down the back of a sleeveless black cardigan.  The cardigan was over a short black leather jacket and mini skirt, a black top under the jacket, and she was also wearing black over the knee suede boots.


“What…  What’s going on?”  She looked at the grey clad woman, the featureless white mask covering her face, and then saw a second one appear out of Ophelia’s front room, holding a hank of brown rope.  The first woman indicated with her finger she should turn round, as the second woman wrote a message on a piece of paper and passed it to her partner.


“Yes, I am Diana,” she said as she looked at the piece of paper, both Dolls looking at each other before she saw the long length of rope that were draped over her shoulders – and then quickly spiralled down her arms, pulling them back as she felt the pressure through her jacket, and saw her cardigan open up slightly.


“Do you have to do this,” Diana whispered as she felt the rope securing her arms together behind her back, before they were pulled up her back, and then the ropes going round her upper body, framing her chest as it rubbed on her.  She was too shocked to be scared, too scared to be upset – and somehow, she was beginning to feel more secure then she had been ever.


“More secure,” she whispered as the ropes were pulled tighter, and then tied off.  “God above, I’m cracking jokes?”


The Doll looked at her, and then nodded as she indicated the door to the front room.  As she walked in, she said “I guess we eat and drink later.”


“Hwwruhfhllhhn,” Ophelia said through the gag, Diana noticing how much darker the knot in her mouth and at the corners were than elsewhere.


“I have no idea,” she said as she was helped to sit on the floor, looking at Margo before she watched two more of the Dolls walk in.  “The China Doll Gang?  Well, I can tick that off my bucket list.”


“Sssfhnnn,” Alice said as one of the Dolls wrapped the rope round Diana’s legs below her knees, the rope compressing her boots and the material lightening before it was crossed down her legs, heling them together and then passed around and between her ankles as that she could only twist them from side to side.


“Brian is picking me up at 9.30,” Diana said as she looked at the clock, “so I guess we have to be like this until then.”




“Oh yes,” Diana said as she saw the rolled up green bandana, the knot tied in the middle, “although I suddenly have something of the feeling Zoe must have had.”




“Yes – she and the family were tied up and gagged by the Female Games Player, weekend before last.  That was tape, this was rope, but Ihghtthfhhlnhhnnn.”


Her words were cut out as she was gagged, the four Dolls looking at each other before they removed the jewellery from the four women, adding it to a sack one of the Dolls held, and then they turned the room light off, the grey bodies fading as they slowly backed out. 


The four women looked at each other as they struggled – a little, before they started in unison…










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