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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