To Serve...







"Show him in, Sandra."

George stood up and walked round from the desk, extending a hand to grasp that of the tall, thin, grey haired man who entered the office.  He was smartly dressed, in a Saville Row grey suit and black brogues, almost as expensive as the dark suit George himself was wearing.

"Derek, how good to see you again," George said as he firmly shook the hand of the new arrival, and escorted him to a chair on the other side of the desk.  The door opened again, and Sandra walked in with a silver tray, laying it on the table before she left.  As the tall, broad shouldered African poured the tea, he said "I haven't seen you at our auctions for some time - I trust all is well?"

"Fine, thank you," Derek said as he took the offered cup and saucer, "I've been supervising some building work on my island in the Maldives."

"So the rumours are true then - you are retiring?"

"They are - I've decided to take my time and enjoy life for a while.  The world of high finance and intrigue will just have to move its own way without my hand in the pot."

"A very appropriate turn of phrase," George said as he sipped from his cup.  "So, how can we be of help to you?"

"I need dome staff," Derek said as he opened his case and took out some sheaves of paper, "and, as always, I have some very demanding standards to be met.  You and your agency have served me so well in the past, I am sure you can do this one last set of requests for me."

"OF course - we would be delighted to," George said as he laid his saucer on the table.  "Now, what would you like to start with?"

"Well, I have to eat, so my first request is going to be for a cook..."

"What do you mean, you're firing me?"

He looked at Delia as she stood in front of his desk, her dark look contrasting with the pristine white of her chef's outfit.

"It's not just you, Delia," he said with a hint of exasperation, "It's me as well.  The new owners are throwing all of us out - I really am just the messenger in this affair."

"Fifteen years - fifteen years I've given this place, and for what?"

"I'll do you the best of references - I'm sure you'll find a new post soon enough."

He watched as the older woman sat down, running one hand through her chestnut red hair as she used the other to remove her glasses.

"I know - I'm sorry," she eventually said.  "How long?"

"Immediately," he said as he handed her an envelope.  "I can pay you to the end of the month, but after that..."

"IT's all right," Delia said as she stood up, "I'll go and have a night on the town, try to forget about it until the morning."  She turned and left the room, shaking her head as she did so.

Later that night, Delia sat in her bedroom, applying the red lipstick as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.   She was wearing a short black dress, the flared skirt covering her crotch but only going down a few more inches and a deep v-necked front just showing a little of the top of her breasts.  

Satisfied, she turned round and picked up a pair of black shoes with four inch heels and two inch wedge soles at the front.  They were murder on her feet, but she loved wearing them none the less, strapping them on before she stood up and walked out of the bedroom.

As she descended the staircase, she could hear the sound of the television in the front room.  "I could have sworn I turned that off," she mumbled to herself as she walked in, looking at the screen as the light illuminated the darker half of the room.  As she started to walk toward sit, however, she was surprised to find herself grabbed from behind, and a leather gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"On the floor," a male voice hissed, "Face down, hands behind your back."

"What the..." Delia said as she felt herself been forced onto the floor, her skirt rising up slightly as she was made to lie down and her hands pulled together behind her back.  "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Shut up and lie still," the voice said as Delia felt something rough been pulled around her wrists, forcing them together as they were held crossed in the small of her back.  As whatever it was bit into the skin around her wrists, she yelped "Please, stop this - you're hurting me."

"Shut up," the voice said again as Delia's head was forced back, and she caught a glimpse of something white before she tasted a thick knot of cotton as it was pushed between her teeth.  As she felt two bands of cloth pressing into her cheeks, she mumbled "Hllppmmm" as the bands were pulled tightly around her face and knotted together under her hair.

As Delia was rolled over, she got her first glimpse of the man who was tying her up, as he pulled her towards a settee and sat her with her back to the side.  He was tall, dressed in blue overalls with a balaclava pulled over his head and the leather gloves on his hands.

"Whstgngnnn," she called out as she watched him force her ankles together and then wind a length of thick black rope around them, pulling them together tightly as he passed it between her legs to tighten the coils.  As he moved up and wrapped a further length around her legs, below her knees, he noticed the fact that under her skirt Delia was, as the phase is, going commando.

"Whtrudng," she screamed again as he pulled the rope tightly around her legs, the black cords pulling her flesh in as he tightened it round and between her limbs before standing up.  He looked at Delia, and said nothing as he fished a phone out of his pocket and dialled a number.

"We're ready," he said as Delia tried to twist her legs round, "Pick up in fifteen."  As he said this, Delia stopped and stared at him.

"Pkp?  Whtdumnpkp?"

"Wait and see, Delia," he said as she opened her eyes wide at the sound of her name, "Wait and see..."

"Well of course you will only want the finest we can supply," George said as he looked at the requirements, "but she is going to need an assistant - someone to help with the more mundane tasks.  A sous chef, if you will."

"Of course," Derek said as he handed George the next sheet of paper, "Of course..."

"Will that be all, my lady," Hannah asked as she stood by the dinner table.

"Yes, thank you Hannah - you may retire for the night now.  I wish breakfast to be served at eight tomorrow."

"Very good," Hannah said as she collected the plates and left her boss in the room.  She didn't particularly enjoy been the housekeeper to Lady Hesketh, but at least it paid a good wage.  It was the outfit she hated most -t eh short black dress with white collar and trim, the high heeled black shoes and the black bow that kept her light brown hair back from her face.

Placing the dishes in the washing machine, she slowly walked to her room, looking forward to a couple of hours relaxation before she went to bed.  As she walked in, however, any thoughts of relaxing were swept from her mind as she was forced to lie face down on her bed, her arms pulled behind her back as she heard a harsh, ripping sound.

"Shit," was all she could say as she felt something sticking to her bare wrist as her hands were forced together, palm to palm, and then the tugging increase as whatever it was wound tightly round her wrists, forcing them together before it was taken down and round her hands as well.  As this was happening, she heard the ripping sound again and felt her ankles been forced together in the same way, whatever it was been wound round them and her feet as her shoes were pulled away from her heels.

"Look, if it's the boss you want to rob, she's in the dining room - I'm not going anywhere," Hannah said as she felt her legs been forced together as she was rolled onto her back, seeing two figures standing watching her in the gloom.  She watched as bands of grey tape were wrapped round her legs in three places, making it look like she had alternating grey and brown bands as the tape covered she stocking clad legs.

"We're going to talk to her later," one of the figures finally said in a high pitched voice, "but first we need to keep you nice and tidy."  Hannah was forced to sit up as more tape was tightly wound round her arms and chest, the shoulders of her dress slipping down as she felt herself more and more tightly secured.

Hannah could not believe what was happening to her, as more and more tape was wound round her body, immobilising her as she tried to struggle free.  "What do you mean, nice and - no, you're not pushing those in my mouth!"  She watched as one of her attackers folded a pair of tights up into a pad.

"Yes, we are," was the reply as Hannah felt her hair been tugged back.  "OWWMGMFDMDGMDFMG" she called out as the nylons were pushed in, and strip after strip of tape pushed down over her mouth, sealing them in place until her lower jaw was a band of grey.

"We need her a bit more secure and compact," the other person said as Hannah was turned on her bed and her legs pushed up so that her chin was resting on her knees.  She squealed as she watched the tape been ripped from the roll again and wrapped around her, her thighs been pushed right into her chest as the tape went round her legs and shoulders.  It was tight and uncomfortable, but as more tape was wound round her lower legs, the band going over her back at her waist, she could do little more than whimper through her gag.

"Right," her binder eventually said as he discarded the cardboard roll on the floor, "You go and have a word with her ladyship.  I'll finish packing her bags."

It was only then that Hannah saw the suitcase on the floor, her clothes half packed into it as her cupboard door was opened.  "NNNBLDDEEWWW" she screamed as she tried frantically to break free....

"I'm sure we can find someone to fill this role," George said with a smile.  "That would take care of your catering - what would you like to look at next?"


“Well, I will of course be taking my large collection of objets d’art with me, and it will be useful to have someone to help classify and maintain my purchases.  The difficulty with that is I need a particular professional, so if you are willing to take this on it will be a specific person - the one I have named on the next sheet.”


George looked at the information, and then pressed a button on the telephone.  “Sandra,” he said quietly, “Would you please book a call with Dave at eSlave for four this afternoon?  I have a commission for him...”



Professor Anna Barton sighed as she stepped out of the shower, towelling her long brown hair as she did so.  The last thing she needed tonight was to have to attend another seminar at the museum, but her role as Director of Antiquities virtually dictated that had to be the case.


Throwing the towel to the floor and donning her bra and panties, she looked at the dress she had selected for the occasion - a creation in brown, almost translucent silk, that reached almost to the floor and went over her shoulders, the waist gathered like a corset belt and the front designed to show herself to the best advantage.


She sat on her bed, putting on a pair of brown high heeled sandals that fastened around her ankle with a thin strap, before stepping into the dress and pulling it over her shoulders, struggling to pull the zip up but somehow as always managing to do it herself.


“This should give the old farts on the board of trustees something to talk about,” she said as she looked at herself in her full length mirror.


“I do so agree,” a voice said, and as Anna turned round she saw two people, a man and a woman, standing in the room, both wearing jeans and denim jackets, and both carrying rather large pistols.  The man also had in his hand a large holdall, while the woman was smiling as she looked at Anna.


“Please,” the man said as he waved the pistol towards the door, “Come with us, Professor Barton.  We need to make sure that you are - comfortable.”


“Comfortable,” Anna slowly repeated, “Why should I be comfortable - and who are you anyway?”


“Well,” the woman said as she walked forward and took Anna by the arm, “We usually find the people we rob prefer to be comfortable while we rob them, so please come with us.”  Anna was dumbstruck, unable to resist as she was led to her front room.  In front of her leather sofa was a small, old looking blue folding chair.


“Please sit down, Professor Barton,” the man said as he placed the holdall on the table and opened it, taking out a number of lengths of rope, “and we will get this done as quickly as possible so that you are not inconvenienced too much.”


Anna felt her arms been pulled behind her back, as the woman knelt in front of her and pulled her ankles to one side, using a long length of white rope to tie them tightly together.  She could feel the same thing happening to her wrists, the cord pulling into her bare arms as they were gently but firmly forced together.  It was like an old film, watching it happen to someone else as she felt he rankles been pulled back and the ropes passed under the chair to the man kneeling there.


“I still don’t understand,” she said as she felt more rope been passed around her arms as they were pulled towards the back of the chair, and her legs were tied together by the women, the cords going around the skirt of her dress above her knees, “What have I got that is so valuable?”


“All in good time, Professor, all in good time,” she heard the man say as she saw more rope going round her upper body, both above and below her chest as her arms were pulled into her side, and then the rope pass around her in a cross in front of her, further tied to the back of the chair to hold her in place.


The female intruder stood in front of her with a wide roll of white tape.  “Now, close your lips,” she said as she tore a long strip off, before smoothing it over Anna’s mouth, sticking it from ear to ear over her jaw.


“Btewhruhr,” Anna mumbled as she watched the man walk to her computer and turn it on, as the woman smiled and headed back towards the bedroom.


“Well, since you ask nicely, Professor Barton,” he said a she turned back to look at Anna, “The most valuable, the most precious thing that you have in your possession is - you.”


Anna’s eyes shot open as she heard this.  “So we’re taking you,” the man said as he took out a cell phone and dialled a number, “and your clothing.  Relax Professor Barton - it’s a wonderful new life that you have awaiting you...”





“Leave this with me to arrange with my associates,” George said as he looked at his guest, “but surely you will need some people to help with general office support as well?”


“That is true - I do need a good secretary who can deal with the day to day office issues.  Do you have anybody in mind?”


“Actually, yes - one of our retrieval teams did bring someone in for our auction in three days time.  If you have time, perhaps we can go and have a look now - it will give us a chance to allow you to see the facilities that we have.”


The two men stood up and walked out of the office, talking quietly to each other as they passed various small teams dressed in either grey or black overalls.  At the end of a large open area, George unlocked a door, and the pair descended a staircase to a cellar, at the entrance to which stood two armed guards.


“We wish to view the occupant of cell 14,” George said to the guard, who immediately collected a small plastic key card and invited the two men to follow him.  They walked down a corridor lined with heavy wooden doors, before stopping outside one with the number 14 fixed to it.


The guard swiped the card through the lock, and opened the door, allowing George and Derek to walk in and look at the woman sitting on the bed inside what looked like a hotel room.


“This is Susan,” George said as he picked up a clipboard that was hanging on the wall by the doorway.  “Her employer, with deep regret, recommended her to us when he found out she had uncovered evidence of his less than legal tax management schemes.”


Susan was in her mid forties, and had her red hair pulled back in a small ponytail, her eyes staring at the two men through metal rimmed glasses as she sat there.  She was wearing a white short sleeved blouse, the top buttons having come undone to show her black bra with lace trim, a black and white check knee length skirt, neutral hose and black toeless sandals.


Her wrist were tightly bound together in front of her, and then secured to the rope holding her ankles together with a length of cord that ran down between her legs.  These were also tied together just above her knees, as she stared at the visitors with her head to one side.  More rope held her arms tightly into her side around her midriff and shoulders, while a thick black scarf had been tied around her head, her lips closed over it.


“What is her skill set?”


George consulted the sheet again.  “120 wpm typing speed, god shorthand skills, and five years as the private secretary to her previous employer, so she knows how to run an efficient office.  As I said, he deeply regretted having to do this to her, and his hope was whoever was to buy her would find good use for her skills.


“I’m sure I can,” Derek said as he looked at her, “Consider this the first part of the order.”


“Will you have her delivered as is,” George said over Susan’s muffled screams.


“Yes - we can discuss their uniforms once they have arrived,” Derek said as the two men left the cell, the door slamming shut on Susan’s desperate calls for help.





“Now then,” George said as he sat behind the desk, “What are your information technology needs?”


“I need a skilled IT specialist, who can maintain a full office and personal suite of systems single handed.  Can you handle that for us?”



“I think we can meet your needs,” George said with a smile...




“Mister Larsen?  My name is Jessica Holt - the agency said you wanted to recruit someone for an IT position.”


Mark looked at the new arrival, standing beside him in the room.  She was in her mid twenties, with jet black hair cut in a wet look style that fell to one side of her face and down her neck.  She was wearing a chocolate brown and red blouse that fastened at the front, a matching chocolate brown skirt that came halfway to her knees, dark hose and a pair of black brogues.  A wide black leather belt could be seen under her jacket, fixed around her waist.


“I did indeed,” Mark said a she shook Jessica’s hand, “Why don’t you sit down and we can go over your resume?”


“Of course,” Jessica said as she sat down, crossing her legs so that Mark caught a brief glimpse of her panties, before she opened her case and handed him a copy of her CV.  He glanced down it, making various mental notes, before saying “That all seems to be well in order, Miss Holt...”


“Please,” Jessica said as she flashed a smile at Mark, “Call me Jessica.”


“All right, Jessica - technically, your work experience and qualifications speak for themselves, but there are some additional skills and personality traits that we need for this position.  As you know, our company deals with high risk financial deals, and it is not unknown for some of the - less scrupulous people in our industry to try and get those details by less than fair means.”


“I’m not quite sure I follow you,” Jessica said as she tilted her head to one side.


“To put it bluntly, Jessica, this office has been broken into five times in the last three months, and each time the person here has been left bound and gagged.  That’s forced them all to leave, so I now need all new employees to show me they can cope with such a situation.”


“I’m sure I can do that, Mister Larsen, but if you need to test me...”


“I know it is a bit unusual, but it would help both you and me to know if this is the right position for you,” Mark said as he opened a drawer and took out a length of silk parachute cord.  “If you do not want to, then feel free to leave right now, no obligation.”


Jessica thought for a moment, before saying “all right - if this is what it takes to prove it, tell me what I must do.”


“Please stand up,” Mark said a she too stood up, “and turn round with your hands behind your back.”  Jessica did as she was asked, looking over her shoulder as Mark quickly wound the cord round her wrists and tied them firmly together, and making sure he cinched the coils.


“You’re doing very well,” Mark said as he took another, longer length of cord and wrapped it round Jessica’s waist, pulling her arms firmly in against her back as he wrapped it round twice and then between her body and her arms to tighten it still further.


“Why don’t you hop up on the desk,” Mark said as he took a third length of cord, “and I’ll make sure your ankles are tied as well.”


“Is this what happened to the others,” Jessica said as she watched him slip her shoes off, cross her ankles and start to bind them firmly together as well.


“Actually, they ended up lying no their stomachs and rather more stringently tied,” Mark said as he pulled the rope between her legs and tied it off, leaving the ends dangling from her feet a she did so.  “So, do you think you can cope with this?”


“I think so,” Jessica said as she tried to twist her arms and legs round, “Do you mind f ii ask you a job related question, Mister Larsen?”


“Of course,” Mark said as he looked in the drawer for something else, “Fire away.”


“The agency mentioned that there may be some foreign travel involved.  I need to renew my passport if that is the case - if I took the job, would you be able to help with that?”


“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Mark said as he pulled a long orange silk scarf out from the drawer and folded it into a thick band.  “Now, the intruder would silence you, so please allow me to pull this into your mouth.”


“Will it herrtmmgfmgfmd,” Jessica mumbled as Mark pulled the tick band between her teeth, making sure the material stayed taut as he tied it over her hair at the back of her head.


Jessica rubbed her legs together, finding the feeling of helplessness strangely pleasurable as she watched Mark making a phone call.  “As I said, Jessica, the job does involve foreign travel,” he said as he waited for an answer, “but you won’t need your passport - this is a one way trip.”


“Nwetrp?” Jessica mumbled her eyes wide as Mark said “Hello, George?  I’ve got that IT specialist you are looking for...”




“So,” Derek said as he accepted another cup of tea, “I think that only leaves three positions to fill.”


“Indeed - you have a request in here for a general mechanic, I see.  I would have thought you would like at least one other man in the vicinity.”


“Actually, there will be two - Gerald will be joining me, as well as a head of security I will be appointing.  For the other staff...”


“Quite so - my apologies, Derek.”



“Have you got that wiring finished yet?”


“Just about, boss,” Caroline called up from the lower floor, before walking into the bare room and climbing the step ladder one more time.  She had her tool belt slung low around her waist, over the cut off denim shorts she habitually wore to a job.  Her red denim blouse had the sleeves rolled up, and her white socks stuck out from the top of her Derry boots.


Reaching for a screwdriver from her belt, Caroline stretched up and started to attach the wiring to the lamp shade that had been loosely screwed into place,   It took her a few moments to complete the connections, before she fixed the fitting firmly into place and climbed back down, walking to the switch at the wall and flipping it down.


The illumination made her smile, before she flipped the switch back down and unbuckled the belt from her waist.  “All done here, boss,” she called out of the doorway, but when there was no reply it did not bother her too much - after all, she was the senior electrician at the site, and had training in a lot of other areas apart from wiring.


So when she heard a voice behind her say “Nice work - what else are you capable of doing,” she said almost automatically “Most electrical and mechanical things - why?”


“Excellent - then you’re just what we’re looking for.  We have a job offer you just will not be able to refuse.”


“I’m quite happy where I am, thank yoooooooph,” Caroline said as she found herself been pushed onto the floor, landing on her stomach as he hands were pulled behind her back and she felt rope been tied tightly around her wrists.


“What the hell are you doing,” she screamed as she felt more rope been pulled around her arms, and someone else pulling her boots off before her feet were drawn tightly together.


“Just shut the hell up,” the voice she had heard earlier repeated as she grunted at the tightness of the ropes, “and you’ll get along just fine, Caroline.  We’re going to take a little trip, and then you will discover a whole new job and life for yourself.”


“But I ... Fuck, that hurts - but I don’t want to go anywhere.  What about my boyfriend, my friends...”


“They will find a letter from you in your emptied flat,” the voice said as Caroline was forced onto her knees, and she saw white rope pass over her head before she felt her arms been pulled firmly into her side, “saying you just need a complete break, and you’ll be in touch when you’re ready.  After all, it’s not the first time you’ve done that, is it Christina?”


Caroline’s eyes shot open at the mention of that name - it was one she had left behind when she was sixteen, and had run away from a very aggressive and threatening situation at home.  “How the...” she grunted as the ropes went under her arm to tighten the coils around her chest still further, “How the hell do you know about that?”


“Spoilers,” the voice said as Caroline felt her feet been pulled back, and the tension as they were held in place.  Behind her, the masked man was using a rope to attach her bound ankles to the ropes around her waist.


“Right,” the voice said as Caroline saw a gloved hand holding a large rag in front of her, “Time to be quiet - open up, Christina...”





George looked at the last sheet of paper.  “I was wondering if these would be required as well,” he said as he smiled at Derek.  “These I am sure we will be able to supply to you...”





“Rough day,” Janine said as she watched Annette walk into the kitchen, leaving her laptop bag on the table as she ran her hands through her blonde hair.


“You have no idea,” she said as she but her arms round Janine’s waist and rested her chin on her shoulder.  “That smells good, what is it?”


“Spaghetti Marinara,” Janine said as she rested her head on Annette’s.  “Why don’t you go and get changed - it’ll be ready in a few minutes.”


“All right,” Annette said as she turned Janine round, placing her lisp tenderly on her partner’s mouth.  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  She left the kitchen and walked to the bedroom, taking off her peach jacket as she did so before unzipping and letting the matching skirt drop to the floor.


Reaching down to pick it up, she opened the closet door and took out a hanger, placing both garments on it before she took off her camisole top.  Closing the door, she looked at herself in the mirror, in her peach coloured bra and slip.


That was when she noticed the masked man standing behind her, seconds before a gloved hand was placed over her mouth...




Janine placed the two plates of steaming pasta on the table, before taking the Alice band out of her dark hair and running her own fingers through it.  It had been a slightly better day for her at the legal office she worked in, but not much so.  She unbuttoned the top buttons on her black silk blouse before calling out “Dinner’s ready.”


“Excellent,” she heard a male voice say, “I’m starving.”  She did not recognise it, but as she slowly turned round she saw a man standing there, dressed in blue overalls with a stocking pulled over his head, smiling a she pointed a gun in her direction.


“Don’t stop,” he said calmly, “finish taking your blouse off.  Your partner is talking to a friend of mine just now, and will join us shortly.”


Slowly, Janine reached up and unfastened the buttons, pulling the blouse out of her red knee leather skirt and holding it in her hand.


“Let it fall to the floor,” the intruder said quietly, “and then take your skirt off.”


“What do you want,” Janine whispered as she pulled the zip down and stepped out of the skirt as it fell down, “If you want money, we have it.”


“Come here,” the man said as he motioned with his hand, “and turn round.”  Janine walked over, as she watched Annette been pushed into the room by a similarly garbed man, her wrists pinned behind her back.


“What’s going on, Janine,” Annette said as her partner stopped in front of the first man, turning round as the blonde was forced to sit on the settee.


“I don’t know,” Janine replied as she felt her wrist been crossed behind her, and then the rope biting into her bare skin, “You don’t think...”


The second man looked at her, in her grey bra and knee length slip, before saying “We’re not interested in either of you - at least not in that way.”  As he said this, he took a strip of cloth from his pocket and looked at Annette.  “Please,” he said quietly, “open your mouth so that I can gag you.”


“It’ll be all right,” Janine said as Annette looked over at her, “Let’s get this over with so that they can take what they want and leave us alone.


“Very sensible,” the man behind her said as he gave one last tug on her wrists and took a similar length of cloth out of his pocket.  “You open wide as well, and then we’ll tell you what’s going to happen.”


“All righmmmm,” Janine said as the cloth was pulled between her teeth, forcing her tongue down as she closed her red lips over the band of material.  Taking her by the arm, he guided her over to the settee, sitting her next to Annette as the other man sat at the table.


“Well, ladies,” he said as he poured two glasses of wine, “First my friend and I would like to thank you for cooking some dinner for us.”


“Urwelcmubstrd,” Annette grumbled as Janine put her head on her shoulder.


“Once we’ve eaten this beautiful looking meal, then we’re going to take you on a little trip - I think you’re going to like it.  Someone will be by later for your stuff....”






The door opened as Annette and Janine looked up from their position on the floor, their legs under them as they mewled through their gags.


“Oh yes,” Derek said with a smile, “They will be perfect as my new maids.”


“Excellent,” George said as he closed the door.  “We will deliver the complete contingent within the week.  It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Derek.”


“Always a pleasure, George,” Derek replied as they shook hands.







One month later.


Delia blinked as the hood was pulled off her head, the bright sunshine making her eyes hurt after the long journey in darkness.  Looking round the room, she found herself in the company of seven other women, all dressed in white short sleeved dresses, white tights and flat shoes, with their arms pinned behind their backs as they sat in the wicker chairs.


There were two men there, both casually dressed in shorts and open necked shirts, but obviously in charge - the gun belts around their waists testified to that.  One of them walked over to Delia and stood behind her, fastening some sort of choker around her neck before he removed the band of white tape that was covering her mouth.


“Where am I?” she said as she worked her lips, watching as one by one each of the women had a black velvet collar attached round their necks, and the tape gag removed to a general rising call of questions.


“Enough, ladies,” a smooth cultured voice said, and they turned to see a tall, thin, Grey haired man walk in, the pleats on his trouser legs impeccably pressed and his shirt open at the neck.  “You are here to serve me - that is the all of the answer.  Your duties will be explained in due course, one by one, by me.”


“But where are we,” Caroline said as she tried to twist her arms free.


“Your new home,” the man replied before turning.  “Start with the cook,” he said as one of the two other men came and started to untie Delia’s wrists, “I need some dinner at some point..."








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