Mature Selection
“So, where did you find her?”
George glanced down at his clipboard, then at the
woman whose head was slumped down, before he said “a nightclub in Soho. She had been coming every night for a few
weeks, arriving alone, leaving alone, so we did our spot checks and she came up
a suitable candidate for selection.”
The woman had shoulder length hair, dyed copper red
but with grey streaks showing, and wore a black leather bolero jacket over a
tiger print tight bustier dress, and over the knee black leather boots that
were skin tight. She was fastened to a
St Andrew’s Cross with leather cuffs, and a large black ball gag was in her
mouth, a line of drool running down her cheek as she slowly opened her eyes.
She took a moment to look round, seeing the other
women in various exhibits and poses, and then started to struggle and call out
for help – only to stop when nobody paid any notice.
“Welcome,” George said as he looked up at her,
“relax, there is nothing you can do except accept our situation, and wait.”
“Whuurhmmmee,” she mumbled as she looked at him.
“Waiting,” George said with a smile as he walked
off. “Excellent – so what do you think?”
“A fine collection for our special event,” the
other man said as he looked round, “catering for all markets has always been
our forte?”
“Indeed,” George said as they stopped in front of a
tableau depicting a typical front room.
“Now this one will interest you.
She answered an advert we placed in a local paper…”
Geraldine walked
into the outer office, looking nervously around as she ran her hand through her
fine light brown hair. She was wearing a
long sleeveless cream cardigan over a grey long sleeved top, a floral print
skirt, and knee length taupe leather boots with a square heel.
“Excuse me,” she
said to the receptionist, “I’m here about the Lonely Hearts interview?”
The young girl
looked up and said “oh yes – name please?”
“Geraldine –
Geraldine King.”
Geraldine looked
nervously round as the girl looked at her screen, and said “ah yes.” Picking up a file from her desk, she smiled
as she said “would you come this way please?”
As she knocked on
the inner door, she looked in and said “Geraldine King is here.”
“Show her in,” a
male voice said, and as Geraldine walked in she saw a smartly dressed man, who
stood up and walked round from the desk as he held his hand out. “Geraldine – welcome to Fresh Starts. Some coffee for our guest please.”
“Thank you,” Geraldine
said as she sat down. “I have to admit,
this is the first time I have ever done something like this.”
“Well, here at
Fresh Starts, we believe age is not a barrier,” the man said as he looked at
the file. “I see you are recently
widowed, no children?”
“No – but I’m too
young to want to be alone,” Geraldine said as the girl came back in, and placed
a cup of coffee in front of her.
“Well,” the man
said as Geraldine picked up the coffee and took a sip, “your profile certainly
means we can find a suitable match for you – someone you can spend the rest of your
life with.”
Geraldine nodded as
she put the cup down, and blinked.
And blinked again.
“I’m sorry, I
suddenly feel… Feel…”
She looked at the
man as he put the file down and smiled, before everything blurred and her eyes
slowly closed…
Her head throbbed, she could not move, and her
mouth felt dry. As Geraldine slowly
opened her eyes, she saw she was in – well, what looked like a sitcom set, for
a front room, but as she tried to move she found she could not.
Her arms were secured to her sides with rope, and
her wrists behind her back. As she tried
to move her legs, she heard the squeak of leather, and looking down she saw her
ankles and legs were secured with rope as well.
There was a pressure on her mouth and cheeks, as
she realised something was inside her mouth, and whatever was causing that
pressure was keeping that in…
George looked at the trussed and tape gagged woman,
and said “she will find companionship – in a way…”
Moving on, the pair stopped in front of a blonde-haired
woman, staring at them over a leather panel gag that covered the lower half of
her face. She was sat in what resembled
an old-fashioned dentist’s chair, her forearms strapped down with heavy leather
straps, her ankles secured together to the foot rest.
“So what happened here, George?”
“Corporate takeover…”
Madame was not in
the best of moods today – the other party were pressing ahead with their bid to
purchase her business, and she was having none of it. The blonde was in her early sixties, and
dressed for work – a strapless black leather mini-dress with a wide black belt,
and thigh high black leather laced boots with a killer four inch heel.
“The clients,” she
said as she looked up at her assistant.
“All being serviced
to their and your satisfaction Madame,” the young redhead said, “I came to
remind you that it is time for your daily reflection.”
Madame nodded as
she stood up. “Is everything prepared?”
“It is Madame - I
will make sure you are not disturbed.”
Madame nodded as
they walked into her private chamber, waiting until the door was closed before
she sat in her chair. She had bought it
at auction, both for the aesthetic of the look, and for the practical
aspects. Sitting down, she smiled as she
laid her forearms on the armrests, as her assistant fastened the leather straps
around her wrists and her elbows.
“Allow me one hour,
and then release me,” Madame said as she watched the redhead secure her ankles
together, and then strap them down to the footrest. “Your method of silence today, Madame?”
“The panel gag,”
she replied as her assistant selected a large leather panel, with straps on
either side, and walked over. Madame
opened her mouth wide as the rubber bung was eased in, and then the straps
fastened tightly round her head.
“There – are you
prepared Madame?”
“Yhhhseemmm,” she
said as she shuffled – and then stared at her assistant as she felt the chair
move slightly.
“Ah – a little
unfortunate, but it is as good a time as any,” the assistant said as she opened
the door, and two men dressed in black came in.
Madame could only watch helplessly as they lifted her and the chair, and
carried her out of the room…
“Interesting,” the man said as he and George walked
on, stopping in front of a set designed to look like a bed. The two women raised their heads and stared
at the two men, as George looked at the clipboard.
“Oh yes – this is the couple I told you about. The ones who contacted us…”
“Everything is
ready,” Moira said as she checked the dining table again. She was dressed to impress, in a black lace
body corset and a blue feathered coat over her top half, black stockings and
knee length white leather boots. She was
dressed to contrast with her partner tonight, and that was the way she wanted
it.
Reaching sixty-five
was something she never thought she would do – not in the way it had happened –
but it had happened, and now it was time for a change.
She smiled as she
heard the front door closing, and looked at Elaine. She was wearing a white mohair cropped
sweater, a black leather miniskirt and midcalf boots, and dark tights. “Hello,” the white haired woman said, “that
looks like a wonderful meal.”
“I hope it is as
well,” Moira said as she took Elaine’s hands, and kissed her gently on the
lips. “How was your day?”
“I took care of
everything – no loose ends left hanging.
Shall we?”
As Elaine sat down,
Moira served the food, taking a seat next to her as they sat, ate, talked,
enjoyed the evening. It was a blissful
time, a peaceful time.
Eventually,
however, both women could sense the time was approaching, as Elaine gathered the
dishes and placed them in the washer. As
she stood up, she felt the arm that was passed round her, the leather gloved
hand that was pressed over her mouth, and heard the male voice as it said “it
is time. Do not say a word, and open
your mouth.”
“Eunndurstennd,”
she mumbled as the gloved hand was taken away, and she felt the sponge expand
in her mouth as it was pushed in. there
was a sound like wet paper peeling from a wall, and she closed her lisp before
feeling the tug of the tape as it was smoothed down over them.
As she turned, she
saw Moira, the white tape over her mouth and her arms and body encircled with
bands of white rope, even as her own arms were forced into her sides. They looked at each other, and smiled under
the tape as they both nodded.
This was exactly
what they wanted…
“Isn’t a little unusual for a couple to put
themselves forward?”
“Well, yes,” George said with a smile as Moira and
Elaine wriggled on the bed, both hogtied, both happy, “but not unheard of. This couple, however, that is an entirely
different matter.”
“Why? What
happened here?”
“A Slip of the Tongue – and an unfortunate moment
to drop in for coffee and chat...”
“Billy – will you
be having lunch here?”
“Yes Mum -I’m due
to start work at two,” Hazel heard her son call back down the stairs as she
stood at the kitchen sink. The fifty
year old had shoulder length blonde hair, and was wearing a purple wool dress,
dark stockings with a darker stripe, and over the knee black felt boots.
“All right then –
I’ll make a sandwich,” she called back as she walked to the side, and cut some
bread, then retrieved some butter and ham from the fridge. As she prepared the sandwich, Billy came in,
wearing his work outfit of a black jumper and trousers.
As he sat down, he
said “I’ll be late home Mum – we’ve got an event on tonight.”
“Well, I’m warned –
Betty’s coming round, and we’re going shopping,” Hazel said with a smile.
“Did I hear my name
mentioned,” a grey-haired woman said as she came in, her eyes twinkling behind
her glasses. Betty was the next door neighbour,
and was wearing a grey embroidered top, the straps of her black bra just
visible, a knee length tight dark grey skirt, hose and short black boots with a
buckle at the sides.
“Ready for an
afternoon and night on the town, Hazel,” she said as she sat down.
“Once we’ve had
coffee, yes,” Hazel said as Bobby started to eat his sandwich. “As my boy is going to be working late,
nothing here for me today.”
“Promises,
promises,” Bobby said with a smile as he stood up, “I’ll just get my
coat.” As he walked off, he left his
phone on the table, as Hazel and Betty started to talk. It was a few minutes later that the phone
buzzed, and Hazel picked it up, looking at the message on the screen.
“Excuse me a
minute, Betty,” she said as she stood up, and walked to Bobby’s room. As she came in, Bobby was putting his coat on,
as he said “Hey Mum – what’s up?”
“Bobby – this
message just came through. Something
about a pick up on the way to work – but who is this girl,” Hazel said as she
handed her son his phone. Bobby looked
at it, and then at his mother – with a look in his eyes she had never seen
before.
“Bobby?”
“I’m truly sorry
mum,” Bobby said as he walked to a chest of drawers, doing something in there
before he walked back over with his hand behind his back, “truly sorry.”
“Sorry about what,”
Hazel said as Bobby walked behind her – and then gasped a she clamped a damp
cloth over her mouth and nose. As she
inhaled, there was a sweet, cloying scent that immediately made her feel giddy
and faint. She reached up to try and
pull his hand away, but she grew weaker and weaker, her eyelids fluttering
until they closed and Bobby picked her up in his arms.
Laying her on his
bed, he went back to the set of drawers, and took a wide roll of white tape,
crossing her ankles and taping them together, before he secured her legs at her
knees and thighs. Rolling her over, he
crossed and taped her wrists together behind her back, before rolling her back
and pressing a strip over her lips.
Pouring some more
liquid on the cloth, Bobby slowly walked back down the stairs and into the
kitchen, Betty looking up and saying “Where’s your mother?”
“She’ll be with you
in a minute,” Bobby said quietly as he walked behind Betty, and clamped the
soaked cloth over her nose and mouth, holding her until she succumbed to the
fumes as well. Using the tape to secure
her arms and legs, he gagged her before he dialled a number on the phone.
“This is employee
number 40821. I need to report a Slip of
the Tongue.”
“Ah!”
“He followed standard protocol, as did we,” George
said as Betty and Hazel struggled in the kitchen chairs the were tied to,
knotted silk scarves acting as cleave gags as Bobby worked on a different
set. “So they go into the auction tonight.”
“Well, I think our Senior Night is well stocked,”
the man said as he shook George’s hand, and then looked at one woman. She was sitting in a chair, wearing a red and
black patterned coat with a black fur-like scarf round her neck, red gloves and
knee length brown leather boots.
“Oh – that’s Gladys. This is her last night with Objects of
Beauty, so she asked to act out as one of the exhibits,” George said as Gladys
wriggled in the seat, the bands of rope holding her firmly in place as the tape
covered her stuffed mouth.
“A farewell party then?”
“Indeed – shall we repair to my office?
Return to the Objects of Beauty index