The Flat Challenge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a challenge, true – and looking back, I was incredibly lucky to have got away with it – but what can I say?  I could not back down from it…

 

The Challenge was a simple one in principle – an old manor house converted into four flats, and I was challenged to rob all four of them on the same Sunday afternoon.  I was allowed to take what supplies I could get into a rucksack, and could replenish those supplies with anything I found in the flats, but anyone who was in those flats had to be left in such a way that the alarm could not be raised until all four flats had been visited.

 

So you get the idea?  That’s why at 1 o’clock on the Sunday afternoon, I was looking at the house, wondering how I was going to get inside given the main entrance was locked and you needed to be buzzed in.

 

The first rule of these things is, if you can enter more discretely from the rear, do so – so I walked round to the rear of the building, and saw the fire escapes at the back.  I was dressed for the occasion – a black leather jacket over a sweater, dark jeans, black trainers, and a black hat on my head, as well as black leather gloves.  I could also see an open window on one of the first floor flats – an invitation if ever I saw one.

 

I managed to get up to the window without anyone seeing, and slipped inside, finding myself in a bedroom.  So I took the opportunity to pull down the brim of my hat, so that the balaclava covered my head and only allowed my mouth and eyes to be seen, before I started my search.

 

I found a few nice pieces, and then slowly opened the door to the bedroom to see if the corridor was clear.  It was, so I made my way down and into the next room – and met my first obstacle of the day.

 

She was, by my guess, in her early fifties, and a larger women with her brown-grey hair platted into a long pigtail.  The black dress she was wearing came a little way down her legs – just enough to preserve modesty – while her hose covered legs were in a pair of knee length baggy black leather boots.  She was reclining on a settee as she looked at me, and said “are you robbing me?”

 

“Yes I am…”

 

“Helen – and can I say one thing?”

 

“So long as you don’t scream for help.”

 

“Oh heavens no – I want some excitement.  Does this mean you have to tie me up?”

 

“Yes it does,” I said quietly as I put my rucksack on the table, “but I assure you, I will leave you to pass the time pleasantly.”

 

“Oh I hope so,” she purred as she stood up and turned round, putting her hands behind her back.  “Make sure it’s tight – and do what you have to so that if I move, I know it is tight.”

 

Well, how could I refuse such a generous offer?  I took some white rope from my bag and crossed her wrists, then doubled the rope over and wrapped it round them, pulling it tight as the rope went around and between her arms to hold them together.  She flexed her red painted fingers as I did this, and she did seem to be enjoying it.

 

I then took a longer length of rope and doubled it over, before I took it round her arms and body and pulled it tight under her chest.  She sighed – a sigh of contentment – as I wound the rope in tight bands around her, above and below her chest, so that her arms were locked into place, before I tied it off and used shorter lengths of rope to cinch the bands between her arms and body.

 

“I trust that is tight enough,” I said as Helen wriggled and nodded – and then she said “tie a rope that I can use to make me happy.”

 

Again, not the first time I’d done that, so I tied one end of the rope around the bands between her breasts, the material stretched tightly already over them, and then let it drop as I walked behind her and knelt down.  My hand went between her legs, I pulled the rope back and up, and she sighed “thank you” as I tied the end to her wrists.

 

Which meant I wasn’t watching the door, but I heard the noise in enough time to walk behind it as it opened and a woman in her twenties came in.   She looked like a younger version of Helen, her light brown hair falling loosely, and she was wearing a white dress that buttoned up the front with capped sleeves – the skirt just a little longer than Helen’s – darker hose and knee length black suede boots.  She stopped at the sight of Helen, and said “MUM!  WHAHMGHHHDWHTGHHNNHNNN!”

 

The last bit was muffled because I put my hand over her mouth and pulled her back against me, as Helen said “Hettie, calm down, I’ll explain what’s going on” – and then sighed because as she twisted round, the rope was rubbing on her.

 

“Your daughter?”

 

Helen nodded as she said “Hettie, I’m being robbed – and you walked in on him tying me up.  Really tying me up.  I think he’s going to force you to be tied up as well.”

 

I could sense the younger woman thinking about it, looking at Helen, and then she said “Hwhnttthbhthddhsswhl.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I said as I took my hand away, “you want to be tied up as well?”

 

“You forced me to let you do it,” Hettie said – and I could hear the excitement in her voice as well.  So I found more rope from my bag, and a few minutes later she was tightly trussed on her upper body – and between her legs – as her mother.

 

They both giggled as I made them kneel on the floor, and then helped them both to lie down as I used more rope to secure their ankles, as well as their legs below their knees – and then bent their ankles back and tied them to their crotch rope as well.

 

I left them to talk for a few minutes as I searched the rest of the flat – finding more jewellery, money and cards.  I also found two new washing lines, which I added to my rucksack – and then I went back in to see them both red faced and blushing.

 

“Time you were both quiet, I think,” I said with a smile as I folded two pairs of panties and put one into each of their mouths, then knotted two long scarves and used them as cleave gags.  Suitably muffled, I left them both wriggling and moving on the floor, content they were happy and there would be no worry about them raising the alarm while I was busy elsewhere.

 

They were having too much fun.

 

 

Letting myself out of the front door of their flat, I slipped across and put my ear to the door of the next flat.  I then took a small set of lock picks from my pocket, and two minutes later I was letting myself in.

 

As I did, a black and white cat slowly made its way out of a room, looking at me before it padded silently into another room.  I could also hear the radio playing, so I felt an investigation of the front room was called for.

 

As I looked in, I saw an older dark haired woman sitting asleep in a brown armchair.  The black blouse she was wearing had see-through sleeves, as well as top panels, while the main body had an ornate white fern print on it.  Her skirt was black silk, coming halfway down to her knees, and she was also wearing a pair of black leather boots with stiletto heels, that came to just below her knees with the white hose visible on the rest of her legs.

 

It seemed a pity to disturb her, so I let her sleep on as I started to search the rest of her flat.  She certainly had good taste in rings and earrings – all of which went into my bag – and she had obviously just been to the bank, given the £500 I found in her purse.

 

If only it had stayed that quiet – because I turned round to see the lady in question looking at me, and then screaming.  I had to think fast – so I grabbed a pair of socks that were on the bed, ran over and grabbed her, and stuffed them into her mouth before I kept my gloved hand over it.

 

I told her if she didn’t calm down and stop screaming, she would choke on the socks – and I kept telling her that as she struggled in my grasp, for quite some time.  Eventually, however, she calmed down, and I said that when I let her go, I wanted her to stand perfectly still, with her hands by her side – and don’t spit the socks out.

 

I had seen the name Mandy on some mail, so I asked if she was Mandy, and when she nodded I told her to just remain calm, and stand still.  Taking my hand away, I took from my rucksack a roll of silver tape, and tore the end loose – then wound it round her waist, trapping her wrists against her hips as I did so.

 

And then I wound the tape up, covering her upper body so it looked as if it was in a silver sheathe from waist to neck.  I was definitely taking no chances with her, not after that performance.

 

I then wound the tape tightly round her head – and yeah, it trapped her hair, but I could not trust her to keep the socks in there as I walked her to her bedroom, and made her lie on the bed.

 

So, she looks like a silver sheath from waist to neck, right?  Well, she had to be the same way below as well, and even though she tried to kick and scream, eventually her legs were covered in silver – and her feet as well, so all you could see were the heels of her boots.

 

Why not tape the heels?  Stiletto heels, my friend – they would rip through the tape, and make rescue possible.

 

I then found her mobile phone and took it, disconnected her phone, disconnected her internet – and finally, did the one thing I do not normally do, thanks to a chloroform soaked pad I had in a sealed bag.  Moira was soon fast asleep, breathing in and out through her nose, as I completed my search of the flat.

 

Upper floor done – ground floor next, as I slipped out of Moira’s kitchen, and shimmied down the drainpipe before I managed to open the kitchen window of the flat below, and let myself in.

 

 

The kitchen was retro – and I mean seventies retro, with pale blue cupboards that had glass sliding doors, and a cooker with an eye level grill.  Even the table was retro – pale wood with a blue Formica top.

 

That indicated one of two possibilities to me – a retro student, or someone who had their tastes and did not care who knew.  Which it was going to be would only be determined if I moved forward –so I did so, following the sound of true MOTR music into the main room.

 

The lady standing there was tall, and elegant, wearing a white coat dress with lace trim on the cuffs of the sleeves and a black symmetric pattern printed on the front, a metallic gold coloured skirt appearing under the material.  She was also wearing a p air of leather boots in a shade of brown, with leather straps at the knee.  She looked at me with her blue eyes, her blonde hair cut in a stylish bob, and asked who I was.

 

I replied equally as politely, stating I was the person robbing her, and asking her name.  It was Anouska, and I complimented her on her taste, at the same time explaining that robbing her meant I would have to take steps to ensure she could not raise the alarm.  She nodded, accepting that was the situation, and only asked she be secured where she could watch something on her television – a perfectly reasonable request to me.

 

I took a wooden chair from the table in the room, and set in down facing the large screen, indicating she should make herself comfortable on it.  As she did, I took one of the washing lines I had found previously, and used a knife to cut it into the required lengths.

 

As I guided her arms round the chair back, and started to secure her wrists together, I said it would be easier if she told me where her valuables were – save on the cleaning up and so on.  She accepted that would be good as I pulled the rope tightly around and between her arms, making sure they were secured before I tied the ends round one of the spars of the chair back.

 

So she told me where to look while I used longer lengths of rope to secure her waist to the chair, and her upper arms to her body as well as the chair back.  When I had finished, she tried to move, but accepted she was going to stay in the chair as I asked her to put her ankles together.

 

Looking round the room, I could see the ornaments – tasteful, and valuable, but too bulky for me to take on this occasion.  If this had been a night visit, perhaps – but not this time, so I informed her I was only after things I could carry and take with me.

 

I then knelt in front of her, Anouska watching with a detached interest as I secured her ankles together side by side, then once I had cinched the binding taking them to one side and tying them to the front leg of the chair.  I then took a second length of rope and tied her legs together below her knees, the band sitting at the top of her boots as she twisted round.

 

I’m not sure which was squeaking more – the wood as she tried to move, or her boots as her legs rubbed together.  At any rate, I went and found her valuables where she had said they were in the bedroom, and at the same time retrieved a very nice fleur de lis scarf.

 

Coming back in, I rolled the scarf into a band and invited her to open her mouth, before I pulled it between her rouged lips and tied it round her head – then turned on the television, and at her direction left her watching a series of the Roger Moore version of the Saint.

 

 

 

Three flats down, one left – and as with upstairs, I let myself out of the front door, walked over and managed to get into the last one.  It was just my bad luck that as I walked in, the flat owner came out of her bedroom and saw me.  She was an older woman, with long brown hair, wearing a white and blue striped t-shirt and faded denim shorts.  Her legs were in hose, and she like the others was also wearing boots – in her case, a pair of knee length ones in black fabric with a leather cuff.

 

And her first words to me?  “Oh no – not again.”

 

I asked her her name, and why she had said that, and she told me she was Eileen.  As to why she had said that – well, she asked if I would have some tea, and I accepted her kind offer, making it clear I would be watching to make sure she did not raise the alarm.

 

As we stood in the kitchen, she told me she had looked after her granddaughter the previous week, and had left her in the front room while she put some laundry away.  When she came back, there was a visitor – a woman dressed in brown, with a stocking pulled over her head, and her granddaughter was sitting on the couch, her wrists taped together in front of her, her ankles taped, and silver tape over her mouth.

 

I recognised who she was talking about – and as we had the tea, she told me she had been left next to her granddaughter in the same way, pretending it was game, while the intruder stole some valuables.

 

It was obvious to me I was not going to find much here, and she confirmed as much – but she asked what I was doing, so I told her about the challenge.  That was allowed under the rules – the last visit you make you could say, so when they got free they could raise the alarm for everyone else.

 

She smiled at that, and said it might serve them right – but she also asked if I needed to make sure I could not raise the alarm as well.  Putting my cup down, I said I would have to – but she could finish her tea, if she put her feet up on the coffee table and crossed her ankles.

 

When she did this, I took the second length of washing line and cut a length off, then secured her ankles together, the cords sinking into the soft fabric of her boots as I pulled it tighter around and between her legs, then secured the ends off.  Eileen said it wasn’t as bad as the tape, as I cut a second length free and then secured her legs together below in the same way.

 

I watched as she put her ankles on the floor, and then put her tea cup down, before turning and putting her hands behind her back as I secured her wrists together.  I then tied her arms to her sides, forming two bands with the rope, before helping her to lie on her side.

 

I had some white tape in my bag, a long strip of which I tore off and smoothed down over her lips, before thanking her for her understanding and cooperation.  I smiled as she nodded and I put the radio on, and then left her to try and escape.

 

A very profitable Sunday and a nice challenge…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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