The Plumbers Return

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“We have completed an internal audit, and narrowed the source to one of four women.”  The grey haired man looked across the table as his visitor opened the file, and looked at the four photos inside.

 

“Interesting – you wish us to establish which of these ladies is the source and then?”

 

“I know the remit of your team – you identify the source, and that is all.  Let us have the details, and we will arrange the ending from there.”

 

The visitor nodded, and said “we will ensure it looks like home invasions or robberies for all four, so that everyone is protected except the source.  We guarantee results.”

 

“Excellent – you have forty eight hours…”

 

“then we had best be on our way…”

 

Milan

7 am

 

Bringing her small car to a halt, Maria turned the engine off and gracefully got out.  Her long dark hair fell over her shoulders, the large white, gold and black Hermes scarf wrapped loosely round the neck of her tight chocolate brown jumper.  The knee length leopard print skirt had a lack belt fastened round her waist, her legs in a pair of long brown fabric boots.

 

She locked the car and walked across the road, looking forward to a day of design in her fashion studio.  It would be at least two hours before anyone else arrived – plenty of time to focus on her new designs for the latest client.  Why they had chosen her for the security uniform design, she had no idea, but it was a challenge…

 

Walking into the hallway and up the door, she fished a set of keys out of her handbag, unlocked the door of her studio, and walked in, closing the door behind her – and then gasping into the leather glove that covered the hand that covered her mouth.

 

A man stood in front of her, smartly dressed in a suite, white shirt and tie, but with a stocking pulled down over his head and a gun in one of his gloved hands.

 

“Vedo che il puma è caduto nella nostra trappola - non urlerai, vero?”

 

Maria looked at him, and then slowly shook her head from side to side.

 

“Grazie, il mio amico sta cercando di togliergli la mano e voglio che tu apra la bocca il più possibile.”

 

She nodded slowly as the gloved hand was taken away, and slowly opened her mouth – only to gag as whoever was behind her pulled the scarf up from round her neck and brought it back between her teeth, pulling the corners of her mouth back as he loosened and retied the ends at the base of her neck. 

 

The man smiled as he pulled away from the desk an armchair, and placed it in the centre of the room.

 

“Siediti, le braccia sugli appoggi, i palmi rivolti verso il basso e non muoverti.”

 

Maria nodded as she sat down, not sure what was happening as she placed her arms on the armrests, palm down.  She could see the second man now, dressed in the same way, as he tore the end free of a roll of duct tape and knelt by her side, using the tape to secure her wrist to the armrest.

 

As he did this, the other man opened her laptop at her desk, and then looked at Maria as she felt the tape being taken up her arm, covering it and the armrest.

 

“Ti chiederei la password, ma non puoi rispondere. Penso di poter fare un'ipotesi plausibile, comunque.”

 

“Nnlindhferemi” Maria mumbled, but the man just smiled as his partner walked round and began to secure her free arm to the chair. He then typed on the screen, Maria’s eyes opening wide as she saw her desktop, and he started to search her files.

 

Her binder then knelt down and took her left ankle to the chair of the leg, using the tape to secure the two together as the band compressed down on the brown fabric.   He then bound her right ankle into place as she watched the way he was checking files.

 

“Sei certamente un designer di talento, potrei anche acquistarne uno per mia moglie.”  He smiled as he looked over, the second man wrapping the tape round her stomach and the chair back.  She squirmed round, unable to move as her binder walked over to her safe and attached a small device to the front. 

 

Maria watched as the combination to the safe appeared on the device, and he punched it into the keypad, opening the safe and starting to empty the contents into a canvas bag.  His partner then plugged a USB stick into the laptop, copying certain things over before he looked at Maria, the back of his gloved hand on her cheek.

 

“Abbiamo quello per cui siamo venuti: qualcuno ti troverà abbastanza presto,” he said with a smile as his partner came over.  They both left the office, as Maria began to struggle violently, trying to dislodge the tape round her arms and body as she screamed.  She could feel her scarf getting damp in her mouth, weighing her tongue down, and prayed someone would come early…

 

 

“Well?”

 

“We have all her communications with the client – an initial scan found nothing of note, but the contents of her safe will offset some of our costs.”

 

“Excellent – transmit all information to central office.  Proceed to the airport – your flight to London is in two hours.  Further instructions will follow…”

 

 

Noon

Munich

 

Helga let herself into her apartment, smiling as she slipped off her white leather jacket and left it on the back of a chair.  The older woman had blonde hair pulled back from her forehead, and was wearing a black bustier top and a white leather miniskirt, thigh high black leather boots over her legs.

 

The knock on her door made her smile as she walked over and opened it, looking at the man who was standing there.  He had short grey hair and a greying beard, and was wearing a black leather jacket over a jumper and jeans.

 

Guten Tag, du bist Helga?”

 

Ich bin – Sie haben eine Art Identifikation

?”

 

The man nodded as he showed her an identity card, Helga taking it and looking carefully before she nodded.  Bitte komm herein,” she said as she allowed the man to enter her apartment.  Ich habe die Details Ihrer Buchung – Sie müssen diese Pressemitteilung nur unterschreiben.”

 

She indicated the paper on a table, the man looking at it and nodding before he signed it, and then removed his jacket.  Helga nodded as she lifted a box onto the table and opened it, before she said “wo möchtest du anfangen?”

 

“Hands behind your back,” the man said in an English accent.

 

“Ah – you prefer me to speak English?”

 

“While you can – hands behind your back.”

 

Helga did as he asked, sighing as he took a length of white rope from the box and walked behind her.  “Silk rope – I approve,” he said as he felt the constriction as her wrists were bound together.

 

“I use the best – and you are good, you know what you are doing,” she said as she looked over her shoulder. 

 

“I am experienced – you?”

 

“I am professional,” Helga said quietly as the man took a longer length of rope from the box, doubled it over and then wrapped it round her waist, before he took it round her upper arms and chest.  He continued in this way for some time, Helga smiling as the bands pressed her arms against her body, and on her chest.  She felt him take it under her arm, and then pull it up and around the back of her neck, before doing the same on her other side and securing the ends behind her back.

 

“hmmm – you like to tie up women?”

 

“I do – do you like to be tied up?”

 

“When someone knows what they are doing,” Helga whispered as the man took another length of rope, and passed it round the two bands that framed her chest, pulling them together between her breasts, “and I can see you know what you are doing…”

 

He smiled as he let the rope drop to the floor, Helga closing her eyes and sighing as he reached between her legs and pulled it back, the rope forcing her skirt up as it rubbed on her while he  secured it behind her.

 

“Oh now that is good…”

 

“Good – lie down, and I will make it even better.”

 

Helga nodded as she lay face down on the floor, looking back as the man crossed and secured her ankles together with more rope, then her legs below her knees, the rope rubbing on the leather and making her smile as well.

 

“Are you going to do what I think you are going to do?”

 

“I am,” he whispered into her ear as he pulled her ankles back, looping more rope between them before he tied the other end to the crotch rope, Helga nodding as she moved her legs to and fro.

 

“Oh that is good – I can make a lot of noise you know?”

 

“I know,” the man said as he looked in the bag, and took out a leather panel gag, “so I must stop you.  Open wide.”

 

Helga nodded as she allowed him to put the red rubber bung into her mouth, and closed her teeth over it as he strapped the leather panel over her mouth.

 

“One more thing.”

 

“Whtsthttth?”

 

“thank you for letting me rob you.”

 

Helga’s eyes opened wide as he slipped the blindfold over them, and then she started to struggle as he searched her apartment, and then examined her laptop, downloading several records before he made his way out - but not before watching as Helga’s body started to shake and she screamed into her gag.

 

 

“You have the records?”

 

“We do- most interesting, especially her contacts within the firm.  Return to headquarters – good job…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paris

3 pm

 

She was working in her kitchen, cooking for herself – something she did all too often, now.  Why that bastard had to do what he did…

 

Her tunic dress was short, black with a white print like a cityscape, barely covering her crotch.  A black shrug over her arms and shoulders.  Her red hair was cut short, small pearls hanging from her ears, while a black and grey silk rectangle was tied loosely round her neck.  The outfit was completed by her hose and black over the knee suede boots.

 

And again, she was cooking for one, but one was enough to distract her from the work she was meant to be doing.  Placing the casserole into the oven, she stood and smiled – and then stood stock still as she felt the pressure against her back.

 

“My apologies, Madame,” a male voice whispered into her ear, “but I require you to do exactly what I ask you to do.  Nod if you understand.”

 

As she slowly nodded, the voice whispered “Is your name Marie?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“How distasteful on his part – to leave you for someone with a similar name, and still to have his fun on the side.”

 

Marie swallowed before she said “I know who you’re talking about – I had nothing to do, and want nothing to do, with his business.”

 

“the question is, Marie, do you want to ruin him?”

 

She turned round to see a fair haired man standing behind her, a gun in his gloved hand pointing towards her.  “I detest what he does, and I want nothing to do with him,” she said quietly, “but I have no desire to be the one who brings him down.  I just want to forget him.”

 

The man slowly nodded, and said “I believe you, but my employer has been engaged to make sure.  I need you to take the scarf from around your neck, and gag yourself.”

 

“Why?”

 

“this is a robbery, Marie, nothing more – on that, you have my word.  It will allow me to confirm what you have said.”

 

Marie looked at him, and then unwound the scarf from her neck, opening her mouth wide as she pulled it between her lips and teeth and wrapped it round twice.  She then secured the ends together at the base of her neck, as tightly as she could, before she looked at the man.

 

“Thank you – I will make this as comfortable and pleasurable an experience as I can for you,” he said as he stood to the side.  “Go into your bedroom, and kneel by the bed, hands behind your back.”

 

“Fhknnuh,” Marie mumbled as she watched him turn the oven down, and then she walked into the bedroom, seeing the canvas bag on the bed as she knelt down.  The man put the gun on the bed and retrieved two lengths of rope from the bag, kneeling behind Marie as he doubled on length over, and then wrapped it round her arms at her elbows, forcing them to touch as the rope went around and between her arms.

 

He then secured her wrists together in the same way, her fingers wriggling helplessly before he selected a longer length of rope, and made sure her arms were fixed against her upper body, her dress stretched over her breasts as he did so.

 

“He hurt you badly – not physically, but in other ways, true?”

 

Marie nodded, a tear running down her cheek as he tied the ropes of behind her.  “Do not cry,” he said as he helped her to sit on the bed, and then took more ropes out, crossing her ankles and binding them as Marie saw the white rope sink into the soft black fabric.  He was skilled, as she realized she was staying there for some time.

 

“Whtwhhuhdh?”

 

“Finish ensuring you cannot raise the alarm,” the man said as he took yet more rope, and secured Marie’s legs together below her knees, cinching that band as he had the others.  “Make you comfortable, and then I will take some of your things – and check your records.  I believe you, but I need evidence

 

Marie nodded as he tied the rope off, and helped her to li eon her side, before he pulled her ankles back and secured them to her chest ropes.  “Allow me to make this easy for you,” he then said as he opened a drawer, and took out a jewellery box.  “I will only take what he bought for you – nod if he did, shake your head of he did not.  Acceptable?”

 

She thought for a moment, then nodded as he opened the box, and piece by piece showed them to her.  When he had emptied all the boxes, he  said “I will return presently” and left her on the bed.  Marie did not struggle – she knew she could not escape, as her scarf grew wetter and heavier in her mouth, and she would get some form of revenge on him.

 

When he returned, he said “I found something – to distract you until I arrange for someone to find you?”

 

“Whht?”

 

The man smiled as he held up a white lozenge, Marie nodding as he slipped it under her panties, the pleasure beginning as she heard the vibrations and closed her eyes…

 

 

 

“So she is not the one?”

 

“No sir – have the other teams reported?”

 

“They have – and they have eliminated their targets.  I will deal with the final one personally…”

 

 

London

7 pm

 

“Good evening – can I help you?”

 

“I hope you can,” the tall, bearded man said as he stood in the doorway, and looked at the middle aged woman.  Long bleached blonde hair, a tight black dress made from a sheer material so that her black bra was visible, dark hose, black over the knee fabric boots.  “Would you be Alice Branning?”

 

“I would – and you are?”  Alice was also appraising the man – business dress, highly polished shoes, smiling and carrying a briefcase. 

 

“Claude Monet – I represent the firm of Monet, Descartes and Renoir in Paris.”  He handed her a business card as he said “I have been asked to contact you with regards to an inheritance.”

 

“an inheritance?  Well, you had best come in,” Alice said as she stood to the side, the man walking in as she closed the door, and showed him into the front room.

 

“Can I offer you some tea?”

 

“thank you, yes,” Claude said aa he sat down, opening his suitcase as Alice made her way to the kitchen.  One thought was in her mind.

 

Who had left her an inheritance?

 

A few minutes later, she returned with a tray, putting it down and pouring the tea into two cups as she said “so, who has left me an inheritance?”

 

Claude took out of his case an envelope, and said “well…” as the telephone rang.

 

“Excuse me,” she said as she went into the hallway, Claude nodding as he listened to half of the conversation.  When she came back, he  was sipping his tea, so she sat and took a drink from her cup before she said “so, as you were saying…”

 

“Of course – the inheritance has arisen because of the death of a relative of yours?”

 

“Oh – who?”

 

“Alexei Bronov.”

 

Alice stared at Claude, before taking another sip of her tea and putting the cup down.

 

“I’m sorry - who?”

 

“Alexei Boronov – your brother, Alexie Boronova.”

 

Alice stared at Claude before she blinked.

 

And blinked again.

 

“Actually,” Claude said as she felt her eyelids growing heavier, “he is very much alive, and was wondering who had leaked information about his operations to the authorities.   He engaged the services of my firm to find the source – we visited his lover, his – courtesan – and his former wife, and eliminated them from our enquiries.”

 

“You…  You’re not a lawyer…  What…  Wh…”

 

“I’m a Plumber,” Claude said as he watched Alice slip into unconsciousness, before he stood and walked over, laying her on her back and crossing her wrists on her lap before he returned to his suitcase, and took out a large roll of silver tape.

 

 

 

 

“Whhh…Whtthphhnndd….  HHNNNHHH!”

 

As Alice woke up, she found herself unable to talk – or to move, as she glanced down and saw the silver sheath that covered her body from toe to neck.

 

No – above the neck, as she realised what was tugging on the skin around her mouth.

 

“My own sister?”

 

She looked to the side and saw Claude with another man – one she recognised, as he looked at the tablet.

 

“You have performed the job admirably,” the second man said as he looked at Alice, “and the evidence is overwhelming.  Your reputation is well earned – although I think I may have to arrange apologies to the others.”

 

“That is your concern, Sir,” Claude said, “payment is due for our services, as indicated at the end.”

 

“Indeed – and I thank you for fixing the leak,” the man said as he typed on the screen.

 

“And this lady?”

 

“I will deal with my sister,” the man said, Alice wriggling and screaming as Claude placed the tablet in his case, smiled, and left her house…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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