Six of the Best
London
Thursday
10.30 pm
“What… What do you think you are doing,” the older
woman said as she stared at her male companion.
He had been supplied by the agency she used regularly, and had come with
the highest of recommendations – and now he was holding a gun and pointing it
towards her?
“Well, right
now Madame, I am ordering you, at gunpoint, to take that very expensive dress
off, and then to sit on the bed, keeping your hands where I can see them.” He was impeccably dressed, black jacket and
pants, white shirt, black bow tie – but she could tell he was not kidding, as
she reached behind her back and slowly pulled down the zip on the white
strapless dress she was wearing. As it
fell to the floor, he smiled as he looked at her, in her white basque and thigh
high white leather boots.
“Sit on the
bed,” he said quietly, “hands in front of you, and cross your ankles.
“If this is a
robbery,” she said quietly as she complied, “then just take what you want.”
“Hush, and
don’t move,” he whispered as he put the gun where she could see it, and took
from his jacket pocket some lengths of white cord. Coming over to the bed, he wrapped the first
length of cord round her ankles. She was
surprised at the speed and skill he used to secure them together – when he had
finished, they were locked in place, the rope going around and between her legs.
A process he repeated
below her knees, as she suppressed the shiver the touch of his fingers on her
legs was sending through her. He was charming,
if dangerous, as he passed the cords between her legs and then tied them off.
“Please,” he
said as he looked at her, “put your hands together in prayer.” She was surprised to find herself nodding as
she watched him secure her wrists together as well, and then tie the ends of
the rope between her legs as she looked at him.
“What now – you
keep me quiet?”
“Indeed,” was
his reply as he opened his jacket and peeled a length of white tape away from
the inside. He looked at her, and then
gently kissed her lips before he smoothed the tape over them, surprising her
with how well it covered and sealed her mouth as she tried to speak.
“Ah – just sit
there,” he said quietly as, to her surprise, he did not go for her purse –
instead, he removed from a satchel her laptop and switched it on, sitting at
the table as she watched him type on it for a few minutes, and then look back
at her, smiling.
“Thank you –
you have been most helpful in locating them.”
“Lhchnnghhh –
hmhghddd!” She started to struggle as he
took a mobile phone from his pocket and dialled a number.
“George? It’s Terence – I have the information you
need.
“Oh yes – one
to collect as well. I’ll make sure we
clear up here.”
Friday
10 am
Basingstoke
“Mrs
Gregson? Garden Maintenance.”
“You’re not my
usual gardener,” Alice Gregson said as she looked at the young man in the green
overalls. Her long red hair fell onto
the shoulders of her crisply ironed white blouse, which sat over her beige riding
jodhpurs. The legs of those were in a pair
of thigh high taupe leather boots which laced up the front, dark sunglasses
covering her eyes.
“That is true –
he called in sick, but I assure you, I have the work docket here.”
Alice continued
to stare at him, and then nodded as she said “very well – do not disturb me
unless it is absolutely necessary.” With
that, she turned and walked back through the patio doors into the house, the gardener
shaking his head as he pushed the lawnmower onto the grass.
Sitting down at
her desk, Alice removed her glasses, carefully folding the legs and putting
them to one side, before she looked at her laptop screen again. “Wonder why she’s not answering her e-mails
yet,” she said quietly to herself as she picked up the coffee mug, took a sip
and then set it carefully back down again, before opening a Word document up
and starting to type.
She heard
nothing, sensed nothing, so that when the damp cloth was pressed over her nose
and mouth it came as a complete surprise to Alice. She reached up and tried to pull the cloth
away, as well as call for help – but instead she felt her mind turn woolly, her
strength sapping, as the cloth was held firmly in place.
Eventually, her
eyelids fluttered and closed, as Alice relaxed in the chair, the gardener
smiling as he put the cloth to one side, and laid her on the floor. From a bag, he took a length of cord and
crossed her wrists behind her back, securing them tightly together before he
crossed and secured her ankles in the same way.
Her legs were
next, above and below her knees, taking the rope around her legs in neat coils
and then between them to tighten the binding.
Satisfied, he rolled her over and sat her up, kneeling behind her as he bound
her arms to her sides with bands of rope above and below her chest.
Finally, he smoothed
a wide strip of white tape over her mouth, making sure there were no creases, sealing
her lips before he lifted her in her arms, and walked through the house, into
the back garden and round to where the rear doors of his van were open. He laid Alice inside, and then took out a
mobile phone.
“Target
collected – heading in…”
11 am
Arnold, Nottingham
Belinda Cox
walked into her house, putting the car and door keys onto the telephone table,
and then took her shopping bag into the kitchen. She lived alone, worked as a librarian, and
kept a low profile, a quiet life. Her
one indulgence was the boots she liked to wear – and today they were a pair of knee
length black leather pants, the legs of her leather leggings tucked into
them. A grey and brown wool dress with a
low cowl neck completed her outfit.
As it was her
day off, she had decided to do some shopping, and was looking forward to having
a coffee. Putting her shopping away, she
put the kettle on and walked into the hallway, looking at herself in the
mirror. Her red hair was swept back, and
as she removed her sunglasses she smiled admiring herself for a moment.
The knock on
the front door took her by surprise, and as she walked over she wondered who it
could be. So when she opened it to find
a young blonde haired woman standing there, her clipboard in her hand, she
sighed and said “I’m sorry, I don’t do surveys…”
“Miss Belinda
Cook?”
“Yeah that’s me
– but like I said…”
“Miss Cook, I’m
not here to take a survey. I represent
Hook and Lyne, solicitors.” She took a
card from her pocket and handed it to Belinda, who looked at it warily and said
“and?”
“I have the
pleasure of telling you that you have been named as the beneficiary of a will –
may I come in?”
“A will?” Belinda looked at the card again, and then
stood to one side, allowing the blonde to come in. “I was about to make some coffee – may I
offer you some, Miss… Miss Deacon?”
“Thank you,”
Miss Deacon said as they walked to the kitchen, the visitor taking a seat as Belinda
put hot water into two kettles. “So who
has named me in a will?”
“Your great
aunt Abigail – she passed away in Australia, but her solicitor there has bene
in touch with us and asked us to convey the message.”
“Aunt
Abigail? I thought she hated our
family,” Belinda said as she sat down.
“Okay then – so what has she left me?”
“May I,” Miss
Deacon said as she held up her briefcase, Belinda nodding as she opened it, and
then produced a gun which she aimed at the redhead.
“What the…”
“Not a word,
Belinda,” Miss Deacon said quietly, “do exactly what I say.” She took out a zip tie and handed it to the
other woman, saying “first, fasten this round your ankles – and make it tight,
or I will instead.”
“IS this a
robbery?”
“Just do as I
say,” Miss Deacon continued, not smiling as she watched Belinda wrap the zip
tie round her booted ankles and then pull it tight, forcing them together. “Now,” she said as she handed Belinda a
second tie, “Round your legs please.”
“Look, I don’t
know what…” Belinda then saw her pull back
the safety on the pistol, and secured her legs together as she had been ordered
to do. Miss Deacon smiled as she said “that’s
better – now, take this sponge, and push it into your mouth.”
“Look, just
take what you want, and…”
“I intend to,
Belinda – do as I say.” The redhead
slowly nodded as she opened her mouth and pushed the sponge in, feeling it
expand behind her teeth as she closed her lips.
Miss Deacon then took a roll of white tape out, tore a strip off and
said “put this over your mouth.” She
smiled as Belinda complied, and then tore a second strip off, before saying
“close your eyes, press this over them, and then put your hands behind your
back.”
“Whtsghnnnn,”
Belinda mumbled, but she closed her eyes and then pressed the tape down over
them, before putting her hands behind herself.
She felt Miss Deacon cross them, and then the thin plastic strip as it
bit into her skin, her wrists forced together as she wriggled her fingers.
She heard
footsteps, and then she was lifted up, and carried away….
Noon
Chatsworth
Clare Folton
smiled as she walked round the grounds of the stately home, enjoying the
sunshine. She had not signed up for the
church trip, so she had not taken the coach, but her morning appointment had
been cancelled, so she had driven to the house herself, hoping to catch up with
her friends.
Her red hair in
a ponytail, her grey jacket covered the short brown jersey dress she was
wearing, an orange scarf round her neck.
Her thigh high burgundy leather boots came to the edge of her jacket,
the dark hose visible between the boots and the skirt of her dress.
Seeing a stone
bench, she went over and sat on it, her eyes closed under the dark sunglasses
as she sat there.
“Excuse me
Madame.”
Clare opened
her eyes to see two uniformed men standing in front of her, before she said
“can ‘I help you gentlemen?”
“Are you aware
it is against the rules of the house to rest on these benches like this?”
“It is? Then I can only apologise, if you will allow
me to move…”
“I’m sorry
Madame,” the second man said, “but we have to detain you and wait for the
authorities to arrive.”
“Detain
me? What do you mean – HEY! What the hell do you think you are
doing?” Clare was taken completely by
surprise as one of the men looped a doubled length of cord round her ankles and
pulled it tight, forcing them together before he quickly wrapped the cords
around and between her legs to hold them together.
“Please do not
call out Madame,” the first man said as his partner produced a second length of
cord, and used it to bind her wrists together, “or I will be forced to ensure
your quiet cooperation.”
“My quiet
cooperation? You have no right to
sthhopmhndndhthssthsss!” Clare’s words
were cut short as the man pulled her wool scarf between her lips, tying the
ends tightly at the base of her neck while his partner rested her bound wrists
on her legs, and then bound them together with yet more rope. Clare twisted round, trying to shout for help
as the scarf started to absorb the saliva from her mouth, and she found herself
tied in a ball.
A black van
slowly came along the gravel pathway, Clare unable to stop the men as they
lifted her up and put her into he back of the van – and then the blackness as
the doors were slammed shut, and the van drove off, past the other visitors…
2 pm
Kempton Racecourse
As she watched
from the owner’s enclosure, Lady Delilah Barrett smiled as the horse she owned
galloped down the finishing straight ahead of the rest of her field. The crowd was cheering, and she was happy.
The large
crimson hat was on her red hair, the hat the same shade as the cotton dress she
was wearing under her great coat. Lady
Delilah was well known on the courses for her runners, and for her style –
including the thigh high brown boots she was wearing today, the tops of her
black stockings visible if you dared to look between the skirt and the boots.
Not that she minded
– she liked to eb provocative, and got a kick from the looks she was
given. At that moment, however, her
horse had won the race, and she needed to go and greet it, collect the prize,
and then celebrate.
As she made her
way back into the building, she allowed herself a little smile – the little
extra present she was carrying inside her was giving her a gentle pleasure at
the same time, and nobody had noticed.
Walking past
one of the medical rooms, she didn’t hear the door open – until she was grabbed
from behind and pulled into the room, there to see two doctors in white coats
looking at her.
“Whtsghnnhnn,”
she mumbled into the gloved hand that covered her mouth, smelling of latex and
talcum powder.
“A hostile
takeover,” one of the doctors said as she struggled, her hat falling off as her
red hair tumbled down – but whoever was holding her was too strong, as one of
the doctors grabbed her wrists and held them together in front of her, the
other one taking a roll of white medical tape and winding it tightly round both
wrists to hold them firmly together.
The gloved hand
was suddenly released, but before Lady Delilah could say anything a large
folded scarf was pushed into her mouth, before the white tape was wrapped
tightly round her head, sealing her lips and trapping the scarf behind
them. She could only stand now as one of
the doctors taped her arms to her sides, and another taped her ankles and legs
together, before she was lowered gently onto a blanket that had been spread out
on an ambulance gurney.
“SMMBDBHLPPMMMMM”
she screamed out as the blanket was wrapped tightly round her, covering her
clothes and the tape bands, and then a gun was placed to her head.
“Remain quiet,”
one of the doctors said, Delilah nodding as the doors were opened, and she was
wheeled quickly, quietly out…
3 pm
Grantham
“Well hello
there – and you have been set by the agency?”
“I have indeed,
Ma’am,” the dark haired young man said as he looked at Edith Bowman. In her mid fifties, with long flaming red
hair, she looked like the cougar she had been briefed she was, even without the
leopard print dress she was wearing, or the thigh high and tight fawn suede
boots with a three inch heel.
“You’d better
come in then,” she said with a smile as she stood to the side, the young man
smiling as he came in and set his gym bag down on the ground. “You have been told what the scenario I
selected was.”
“I have indeed,
Mrs Bowman…”
“Miss – it’s
Miss Bowman, but call me Mrs if you want.
So, do you have everything you need?”
“I do indeed,”
he said as she looked at him – smart suit, white shirt, tie, highly polished
shoes. Licking her lips, she said “so
how do we start?”
“We start with
you turning round and putting your hands behind your back,” he said with a
smile as he opened the bag, and took out a length of white rope, Edith licking
her lips as she turned and looked over her shoulder. As she watched, he crossed her wrists and
doubled the rope over, then within five minutes they were tightly secured
together, the ends out of reach of her fingers as she wriggled them around.
“hmm – you do
know what you are doing,” Edith said with a smile as he passed a longer length
of rope around her body, pulling her arms into her sides and stretching the
thin material of her dress so that her breasts were more prominent, her nipples
almost visible underneath.
He took the
rope around above and below her chest, and then pulled the bands together
behind her back, before walking round and taking the rope over one shoulder,
then feeding it round the lower band between her breasts, his gloved hands stroking
her breasts and making her shiver before he pulled it up and over her other
shoulder, making a rope bra that rubbed on her as she wriggled round.
“I may scream
for help,” she whispered, then smiled as she saw the large folded pair of her
own panties in his gloved hand. She
opened her mouth wide, accepting the stuffing before he used a stocking as a
cleave gag, pulling the corners of her mouth back as he tied it round her head. A roll of black vet wrap was then produced,
which was wrapped tightly round her again, covering the other material.
“Sit down,” the
man said, Edith nodding as she sat in an armchair, watching as he crossed and
lashed her ankles tightly together, and then secured her legs together above
and below her knees, so that she could only wriggle as he removed her sunglasses,
and put them to the side.
“You have been
a very naughty girl, Miss Bowman,” he said with a smile, “and you need to be
punished. Are you ready?”
“Shuuhrwhrst,” Edith
said, smiling under the gag as he picked her up and threw her over his
shoulder, his hand gently smacking her bottom.
“As you wish,”
he said quietly – and then he walked off with her, not up the stairs, but out to
where a black van was waiting as he carried her inside.
“Whtsghhnnhn,”
she mumbled – before a black hood was pulled over her head and she felt the van
drive off.
7 pm
Somewhere
Edith grunted
as she was sat in a chair, and she felt more rope being tied round her waist as
she shook her head from side to side.
“Whtshhssths,”
she called out – and then she heard other voices calling back.
“Remove her
hood.”
The voice was
male, deep, and as the hood was taken off Edith saw a tall African gentleman
standing in front of her, impeccably dressed.
She then looked round – and stared, her eyes wide open at the other four
women bound, gagged and sat in chairs.
The other four
women who looked just like her.
Two doors in the
room opened, and a grey haired woman was wheeled in, also bound and gagged and
strapped to a gurney, wearing only a white basque and thigh high boots. She looked round the room and said
“hmhhghdd…”
“Welcome
Professor Carter,” the African man said, “I think you remember the other five
women, although you may not have seen them for over fifty years.” He then walked round, looking at the other
five before he said “I have some revelations for you ladies. First – you are all sisters.”
They looked at
each other as he continued “Have you seen the documentary Identical Strangers –
a rather sorry tale of triplets separated at a young age and raised in separate
families? No? Well, you will get a chance to watch it later
– because Professor Carter here, as a young doctorate student, did the same
thing with five female quintuplets.
“You five
ladies. You were separated, and adopted
in separate families, different lifestyles – and Professor Carter has been
watching you.”
All five looked
at the grey haired woman, who hung her head.
“However,
certain parties wish all evidence of the experiment to disappear – which is why
you have been brought here. Welcome to
Objects of Beauty, ladies – your new life awaits you.
“All of you.”
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