The crowd was mingling round the display hall, the men dressed in dinner jackets, their bowties perfectly tied around the neck of their crisp white shirts, the women wearing gowns and jewels.
The tall African man who entered with the smartly dressed couple smiled as he chatted with some of the guests, before he said “Why don’t we have a look at some of the exhibits tonight, it will give an idea of what the audience can expect later.”
As his guests nodded, they stood in front of a stage area set up to look like a room, with two comfortable chairs. The two young girls sat in the chairs stared at them over the cloths covering their mouths, their wrists secured in front of them with a rope that then went down between their legs, pushing the long skirts in, and then was tied round their ankles.
“A fifties family scene?”
“Exactly,” the dark skinned man said, “these ladies were procured as a pair, a week ago...”
Portia DeCleur stepped out from her Chelsea flat, looking round as she placed the wide brimmed hat over her head. She was wearing a white Fair Isle jumper over a blue checked blouse, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, as well as some designer faded jeans and knee length tan leather riding boots. A set of earls sat round her neck, as she walked quickly down the road and towards the exclusive wine bar.
As she walked in, a tall, think blonde waved to her and said “Portia – over here.”
“Hello Binky,” she said as she walked over, the girls kissing each other on the cheek before they sat down. Binky Beauford was also wearing a set of pearls, hers around her bare neck on top of a jumper with brown sleeves, a tweed style body and a curved false collar. She was also wearing olive green pants, and high heeled brown sandals.
“So what has that idiot Jimmy done to you now,” Portia said as she sat down, and Binky poured her a glass of wine.
“Oh it is too horrible to tell,” Binky replied, before she proceeded to explain in great detail what had happened...
“I know what you need to take your mind off him,” Binky said as she and Portia made their way along Kensington High Street, “some retail therapy. There’s a new boutique opened down here that I hear has some wonderful vintage clothing – just perfect for Jess’ wine party this weekend.”
The two of them stopped outside the small shop, looking at the designer gowns in the windows, before they stepped in and looked round.
“Oh look at this,” Binky said as she handed Portia a black leather slip dress, “Go and try it on.”
“All right,” Portia said as she went to the changing rooms, the young girl in the long floral print dress smiling as she opened the door, and then closed it behind Portia.
“Now then,” Portia said as she removed her boots and then pulled her jumper over her head, “let’s see if...”
Her eyes shot open as the damp cloth was pressed firmly over her nose and mouth, a strong arm grabbing her round the waist as she started to scream – only to inhale the sweet smelling fumes, as her eyelids fluttered and closed...
“Is she still trying that dress on,” Binky said as she walked over, carrying a Laura Ashley dress on her arm.
“I’m afraid so,” the young girl said as she opened the door to the other changing room, Binky smiling as she went in and the door was closed behind her. She hung the dress up, put her bag on the seat and then pulled the jumper up over her waist – only to scream as she too was grabbed from behind, the damp cloth over her mouth as she fell asleep...
The shop girl unlocked and opened the door, watching as Binky was carried through the door, and as it swung close to reveal the mirror she gathered the bag and other personal items in a black bag. Clearing the second room, she smiled as she returned to her station.
Binky slowly opened her eyes and looked over to see Portia in an armchair, a white cloth tied tightly over her mouth. She was wearing a short sleeved pink blouse with a poodle on the breast pocket, and a long pink poodle skirt, but her wrists were secured together in front of her with rope, which went down between her legs and then around her ankles.
She looked at her matching blue outfit, and realised she too was gagged, with something in her mouth as well. Looking round, she saw they were on what looked like a stage set, as men in white clothes and carrying guns watched them.
“So they are been sold as a pair?”
“Indeed,” the large dark skinned man said as they walked off, Binky and Portia looking at each over before a sandy haired man stood in front of them, smiling as Portia said “Jemmeee? HMGDDNNNNNN!!!”
“So, what is the story behind this one?
They stopped and looked at the older woman, tied to the X-frame and wearing the leather bustier dress, a leather pad covering her mouth as she looked at them her eyes glazed over and a quiet bussing sound in the background.
“Ah yes – our Fifty Shades of Grey lady...”
Nobody could accuse Doris Booth of not having her own sense of style. The English Literature lecturer could often be seen around the campus, smiling as people watched her.
On this particular day, Doris had her red brown hair pulled back in a bun at the top of her head, a pair of brown wooden earrings hanging on her lobes, and what resembled a large brown Pashmina shawl wrapped around her upper body. Under the hem of the garment, she was wearing a pair of striped balloon pants, the ends tucked into short brown leather boots.
Heading into the department building, she put her large bag down on her desk, and sat down at her desk, looking at some term papers. The knock on her door made her look up as she said “Yes?”
“Dr Booth? I’m Cathy Davies, from the Journal. We had an appointment to meet?”
“Oh yes,” she said as she looked at the woman standing in the doorway. She was in her early thirties, and wore a grey jacket and skirt over a cream blouse, with grey pumps.
“So, Miss Davies,” Doris said as she sat down, “what can I do for you today?”
“Well,” Cathy said as she took out a notepad, “we’re doing an in depth article on the so called ‘mom bondage’ movement that has arisen following the publication of, and the film of, Fifty Shades of grey, and we wanted to get an expert opinion on whether or not this is a real social phenomenon.”
“Oh that piece of...” Doris stopped herself and said “I’m sorry, Miss Davies, it is just when I try to encourage the promotion of serious literature, it seems only poorly written titillation sells.”
“But hasn’t that always been the case? After all, in the seventies it was the likes of Jackie Collins and Arthur Haley who were the bestsellers.”
“I agree,” Doris said, “but that set of books were not the best written of books. I found them trite and unbelievable.”
“So you do not think such a situation could exist? That a woman would not give over so easily to one man?”
“Of course not!”
“But a woman dominating another woman in that way?”
“Whatever do you mean,” Doris said as she looked across the desk. Cathy merely smiled as she reached into her handbag, and took out several photographs, which she passed across the desk to the lecturer.
“I believe that is your research assistant,” she said as Doris looked at them, “and I must say, you came out very well in them.”
“How... How did you...”
“I think,” Cathy said as she took a gun from her bag and pointed it at Doris, “you should be very quiet, and listen to what I am going to say.”
“Oh my god,” Doris whispered, “what is this about?”
“A change of direction for your career,” Cathy said as she took a small sponge ball from the bag, “put this in your mouth.” She rolled it across the desk, smiling as she watched Doris pick it up, look at it and then push it into her mouth, closing her lips over it.
“Good,” Cathy said as she stood up, and drew two things from her bag – a white plastic zip tie, and a wide roll of clear tape. Olive offered no resistance as the young woman pulled her wrists behind her back and used the zip tie to secure them together, before adjusting her top so that her wrists were covered by the rear panel.
She then tore a long strip of the clear tape off the roll, and smoothed it over Olive’s mouth, making sure there were no folds as it covered her lips and jaw.
“Stand up,” Cathy said as she picked up her gun, and put Olive’s bag over her shoulder before picking up her own, “I have a vehicle waiting.”
Olive nodded, amazed at the way nobody noticed she was gagged and bound as Cathy walked her back out of the building, and over to a car park. A car was waiting, the tinted windows making the inside difficult to see as Cathy opened the door and ordered her to sit in the back door.
She watched as the young woman used a second zip tie to secure her ankles, and then forced her to lie on the back seat, the car door closing before she was driven off...
Olive groaned as the vibrator worked inside her, held in place by the chastity belt hidden under her dress, but one thing was clear in her mind, as she watched the three people walk off.
She was where she wanted to be, and she was excited about what was to come...
“Now,” the dark skinned man said as they looked at a bed, the red headed woman glaring at them over the silver tape covering her mouth, “this particular delivery arrived last night – an unexpected addition to the schedule for today...”
“Thank you for a wonderful night, Daniel,” Susan said as the young couple walked down the street to his flat. The Chinese girl was wearing a black long sleeved mini dress, the shoulders of the top bare and showing her bra straps, the skirt coming halfway down her thighs as her black lace patterned stockings were visible. Her outfit was completed by a pair of over the knee tight black leather boots, with straps around her ankles and the three inch stiletto heels.
“You’re welcome,” Daniel said as he opened the door to his flat, the two of them walking in before they embraced and kissed passionately.
“Forget the drink,” Susan said as she looked at Daniel, “let’s play instead.”
“Are you sure you want me to do this,” Daniel said quietly, but Susan nodded as she said “just let me go to the toilet – you get the ropes ready, and do it the way I taught you.”
Daniel nodded as she slipped off, and he found several lengths of rope, taking one very long one and doubling it over before he made a little loop in the middle.
“Ready,” Susan said as she came back, standing in front of Daniel as he draped the rope over her shoulders, letting the ends drop in front of her as he made sure the loop sat at the back of her neck. He then started to wrap the rope round her arms, taking it down in a spiral movement as he pulled her arms behind her, and then secured them together behind her back, before feeding the ends through the loop and using them to pull her forearms further up.
“Oh that feels good,” she sighed as he then wrapped the remaining lengths of rope around her upper arms and body, enclosing her chest essentially in a rope harness which compressed and forced her breasts out as he tied the ropes tighter and tighter.
“I am so grateful you taught me this way of using ropes,” Daniel said as he tied the least of the ends off, Susan twisting round as the ropes rubbed on her, making her sigh as the small shocks ran through her body.
“So,” he said as he kissed the back of her neck, gently moving her red hair out of the way as she sighed at the touch of his lips, “how would you like to be secured today?”
“How about a little frog tie,” Susan said with a smile.
“All right, you sit down and wait while I go and get the rest of the gear.”
Nodding, Susan sat on the edge of a leather recliner while Daniel left the room, and looked down at some of the papers that were scattered on the desk. As she did so, she started to read some of them, her eyes opening wide as she did so.
“Oh my god,” she said quietly, “it can’t be true, it Jusstcnntthmgddddd!”
“I am truly sorry,” Daniel said as he pushed the folded cloth into her mouth, and then tore strip after strip from a roll of duct tape, smoothing them over her mouth as she tried to push the cloth out, and then walked round, forcing her to lie face down as he crossed and bound her ankles tightly together, followed by her legs below her knees.
As he pulled her ankles back and tied them to her chest ropes, Susan called out “Plssdddnelelltllnunnn.”
“I know you won’t,” Daniel said quietly as Susan twisted round, the leather squeaking as he picked up his phone.
“This is staff number 20567 requesting emergency pick up.
“Yes, that’s right – a slip of the tongue,” he said as he looked sadly at his soon to be ex...
Susan squirmed as other guests looked at her.
“Still, we like to offer variety in all we do,” the African man said as they walked over to another bed. The white haired woman looked up as she pulled on the scarves holding her spread eagled to the bed, a knotted one sitting between her red lips.
“And we like to cater to all ages as well...”
Sitting in her front room, Carol let out a little sigh as she watched her date for the night drive away. They had gone to a nice little country pub, had a good meal, but somehow it still wasn’t the same as when Gerald had taken her.
Gerald – he had died a year before, and yet she still missed him every day. It had been his heart in the end, and despite the passage of time the pain was still there.
She had made an effort tonight as well, wearing a black and white leopard print top, black leather trousers and red heels, and he had appreciated that as well. And yet, it still just was not the same.
She stood up, and walked to the drinks cabinet, pouring herself a long drink as she wondered why she still seemed unable to replace him. Something was missing, but what...
“Hello – please, make no noise, and do exactly what we say.”
Carol slowly turned to see the masked couple standing facing her, the man holding a black bag while the woman pointed a very real gun in her direction. Both were dressed in black, with stockings pulled down over their heads, as she said “oh lord – is this a robbery?”
“Just do as we say, and you’ll be just fine,” the man said as he put the bag down, walking to the curtains and drawing them over the windows as the woman kept looking at Carol. “Do please finish your drink. Then, slowly, put the glass down and lie face down on the couch.”
“All right,” Carol said quietly as she drained her glass, and then walked over, lying on her stomach on her brown upholstered couch as the man put the bag down, and crossed her wrists behind her back, using a roll of black tape to secure them together, before he moved down and crossed her ankles before taping them together. Another band was wrapped below her knees, and then around her thighs, as Carol said “look, my jewellery is upstairs. Just take it, tape me up and then go, please.”
“Sit up,” the woman said, the man helping Carol to sit up before more black tape was wrapped round her arms, and then above and below her chest. “Thank you for the offer, but we’re going to be taking a bit more than your jewels and money.”
“What – what areuttlknggmbbtttmmmmffff,” Carol said as a folded scarf was pushed into her mouth, and then the black tape wrapped round her head, covering her mouth and sealing the gag into place as she looked up.
She watched as the man went upstairs, while the woman took out a mobile phone and stepped into a hallway. She tried to free herself, but the tape was tight, and held her securely as the woman came back in.
A few moments later, she heard her front door open, and two men dressed in black came in. “Take her to the auction house,” the masked woman said, as they picked Carol up like a carpet and carried her out to a waiting van.
As they did this, Carol tried to call for help, but something inside her was excited as well – maybe this was what she was missing...
They had treated her well, allowing her to rest, change into this short nightie and then tied her with scarves. If this was her fate, then she accepted it with open arms.
“What about this couple,” the woman said as they walked over to where two women were kneeling, facing each other with ball gags in their mouths which were linked by short chains, their bound wrists linked by a rope that an over their own crotches as they wriggled round, wearing only bras and panties.
“This? This is our mother and daughter special for this auction...”
“Mum? How long until lunch is ready?”
“Ten minutes,” Heather said as she called out from the kitchen. The forty year old was wearing a dark grey t-shirt with a blue floral print, the low round neckline showing her throat, and white shorts with sandals. Slipping the burgers on the griddle pan, she watched as her eighteen year old daughter came into the kitchen, looking at her through her glasses.
“That smells good,” Roberta said as she inhaled the aroma of the meat and herbs. Her hair was longer and lighter brown than her mothers, and fell over her black t-shirt. She also had on a pair of dark denim shorts, and blue plimsolls.
“Can you get a couple of drinks from the fridge,” Heather said as she took the griddle pan over to two plates, which had buns and salad already prepared. Putting the burgers on, she placed the griddle pan back onto the wooden board and then carried the plates to the table, while Roberta brought two bottles of water over.
“So what plans have you got for this afternoon,” Heather said as she sat down.
“Lying on a camp bed in the back garden, enjoying my last day of freedom before I have to go on this secondment,” Roberta said.
“Anyone else offered the chance to spend six months in the united states would jump at it,” Heather said with a smile.
“Yeah – but six months without friends...”
“You’ll make new ones,” Heather said with a smile as she bit into her burger, and then took a drink of water. “When do you have to leave?”
“tonight – the plane is first thing in the morning, my packing is done, so allow me this time,” Roberta said as she looked at her mother, “and spend it with me.”
“All right – I need to put some things away, but then I will come out into the back garden.”
“Thanks,” Roberta said with a smile as she ate her own burger, their talk turning to other matters.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Heather said as she watched her daughter go out into the back garden, and then started to wash the dishes. As she placed the griddle pan on the draining board, she heard the front doorbell ring.
“Now who could that be,” she said as she dried her hands, and went through the hallway, opening the door as she said “Yes, can I hellppyyuuuuhmgddhhhrru?”
Her muffled calls were the result of the cloth which the gloved hand had pushed into her mouth, that hand now covering her lips as her wrists were pulled behind her back and secured together with a pair of handcuffs, and then the hand replaced by a strip of white tape that formed to the contours of her face as it was pressed firmly down.
One of the suited men who had come in knelt down and fastened a set of cuffs round her ankles, the length of chain rattling between them as she was frog marched out of the house, and two men made their way through to the back garden.
Roberta was lying on the recliner, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the summer sun, unaware of what was going on in the house. The first she was aware of what was happening was when she felt someone grab her arms, and then the cold steel on her wrists as the cuffs were fastened over them.
“What the – what’s going on,” she said as she opened her eyes, and then saw the man looking over her before he pushed the rubber ball into her mouth, and then tore the wide strip of white tape from his lapel, smoothing it over her lips as a chain was fastened round her ankles, and then up to her wrists.
Forcing her to stand up, she tried to call for help as she was frogmarched through the house, watching as other men collected various personal items of her and her mother’s before she was taken out and made to sit in the van.
“Whtaggnnn,” she said as she looked at her mother, while their handbags and suitcases were placed in the van.
“There now,” a man said as she closed the van door, “you have accompanied your daughter for her US trip – and by the time people discover the truth, you will be enjoying a new life, far from this place.”
The sound of the van moving drowned out their screams as they drove off, a man closing and locking their front door before he walked off.
“So, so you see anything you may wish to bid for,” the African man said as they walked off.
“Some possibilities,” the woman said as a noise made her turn round. “Is there even a market for lots such as this?”
“Oh yes,” their host said as they looked at the larger woman, squirming as she sat strapped in a dentist’s chair, “you would be surprised...”
“The stupid bloody idiots!”
Detective Constable Tasha Reardon was not having a good day. A large woman, but a formidable personality, she had been trying to persuade her superiors that the recent spate of disappearances was a coordinated set of kidnappings, but they had refused to listen to her.
She looked at herself in the mirror in the toilets, her reddish brown hair cut in a style that framed her face, while her grey cardigan sat over her black jersey dress, the front opening over her large stomach. The skirt came down to just below her knees, her grey tights visible between her skirt and the tops of her black leather boots.
“I know there’s something going on round here, and I am going to get to the bottom of it,” she said to herself before she went back to her desk, collecting her bag and then leaving the office as her fellow detectives looked at her.
“Hey Reardon – knocking off early,” the desk sergeant said as she went past.
“Chasing leads,” she called out as she made her way out to the car, getting in and driving off. She had received a tip off from an anonymous call, and wanted to follow up on it.
As she arrive at the pub, she stopped the car and got out, wondering what she was doing here – but summoning up her courage, she walked in and looked at the one or two customers in place. It stood by the banks of a canal, the landlady coming over and saying “what will it be, love?”
“Diet coke,” Tasha said, looking round as the waitress poured some from a bottle into a glass and added ice.
“There you go – waiting for someone?”
“I hope so,” Tasha said as she took a drink, and then went to sit by a window, watching the world go by as she slowly sipped her drink. The atmosphere in the pub was so calm, so peaceful, as she continued to slowly sup from the glass, relaxing as she felt her eyelids slowly droop...
“George, I think she’s coming round now.”
Tasha slowly opened her eyes – her mouth felt dry, as if cotton wool was stuffed in it, and something was pressing down around her face. Her limbs were stiff as well, and as she tried to raise her arm she realised something was holding it down.
She looked at the left to see her arm strapped down to the heavy wooden armrest of the chair she was sitting in, and a glance to the other side told her both limbs were secured with thick leather belts. “Wthssgnnn,” she tried to say, and then realised it wasn’t a taste of cotton wool – it was something cotton in her mouth, and a band of cloth was tied tightly over it to keep that in place.
Trying to kick her legs up, she screamed as she realised they were held like her arms – and then she looked in front of her, at the impeccably dressed African man and the young couple.
“Welcome, Detective Constable Reardon,” the African said in an Oxford accent, “to Objects of Beauty. Your attention was turned our way, which means ours was turned to you. Now, we invite you to see how we work from this angle.
“Joseph, Claire, make the final arrangements for tonight’s auction.”
Tasha looked round the room, at the other women on display, and screamed again in frustration, trying to break free as the guests started to arrive...