Turn and Turn About
Frances closed
her front door and sighed, putting her large shoulder bag on the floor as she
slipped her long tan coat off and placed it on the coat stand. It had been a – difficult – day at the
office, and she wanted to unwind, eat, shower, consider what she was going to
do next. The heels of her black leather
boots clicked on the wooden floor as she did so, punching through the silence
as she opened her refrigerator, took out a bottle of Chardonnay, and then found
a clean glass.
Looking at the
amber liquid as it filled the glass, she sighed again and thought of what she
had discovered. A senior admin assistant
at a firm of accountants, she was dressed fashionably but conservatively, in a
white top with black horizontal stripes, and buttons on her left shoulder, and
a long brown wrap leather skirt, the silver buttons shining in the dim light.
“What am I
going to do,” she said quietly to herself as she sipped her wine, and then
jumped as she heard the front door bell.
Putting the glass down, she walked along the corridor, seeing the figure
through the frosted glass before she opened it.
“Frances – can
I come in?”
“Sure,” Frances
said as she stood to the side and allowed her boss to come in. Cordelia had long blonde hair, and was
wearing a brown leather jacket over a tiger print vest top, black leather
trousers and thigh high burgundy boots.
“Going on a date?”
“Later – I
wanted to stop and talk to you first,” Cordelia said as she put her large
shoulder bag on the floor. “You left
very suddenly today.”
“I didn’t think
you’d noticed – want some wine?”
“No thanks –
I’m driving. So what happened?”
Frances looked
at Cordelia, before she said “I guess I need to talk to you first anyway – come
in, sit down.”
She walked into
the front room, Cordelia collecting her bag as she followed her, and sat on the
couch, leaning forward with her hands in her lap while her boss sat opposite
her, saying “Frances?”
“Boss, I was
checking the Broadstreet account today for Dennis,
and – I found something.”
“Oh – what did
you find?”
“The numbers
did not add up – someone was skimming from the accounts. And not just that one – I found four others
as well…” Looking at Cordelia, Frances
said “what do I do?”
“Have you told
anybody else?”
Frances shook
her head as she looked up. “I need to
talk to someone tomorrow, see what can be done…”
“No – no, I
don’t think you’re going to talk to someone tomorrow.”
Frances looked
at Cordelia as she reached into her bag, and drew out a pistol, aiming it at
her as she said “I wondered when I would be found out – guess I’m lucky to have
got to you first.”
“Cordelia, what
are you…”
“Oh shut up,”
Cordelia said as she stood up, “I’m on a good thing here, and you are not going
to stop me. I just need to make sure you
can’t raise the alarm. So you’re going
to take a little trip with me – you’re not going to cause me a problem, are
you?”
Frances shook
her head as Cordelia stood up, and slipped her jacket off, covering the young
woman with the gun the whole time.
“Good – lie
face down on the couch, and put your hands behind your back.”
“Cordelia, this
is…”
“DO IT!”
Frances saw the
anger in the older woman’s face as she stood up, and fearing for her life she
lay on the couch, turning her head as Cordelia put the gun on a low table, and
then retrieved from her shoulder bag a length of white cord.
“Look,
Cordelia, we can talk this out, you don’t need to…”
“I told you to
shut up,” the older woman said as she crossed Frances’ wrists, and then wrapped
the cord around and between her arms, securing them together so tightly she had
to bite her lower lip. Tying the ends
off, she then took a second length of rope from the bag, and tied her ankles
together, the rope making her leather boots squeak as it rubbed on them while
compressing the material round her legs.
As Cordelia
tied the rope off, Frances looked down, twisting her legs as her boots rubbed
together before saying “Cordelia, seriously, you are going to whhthhmmmmmm…”
“Told you to be
quiet, didn’t I,” Cordelia said as she shoved the cloth into Frances’ mouth, filling
the space behind her teeth before she removed a roll of duct tape, and wound it
tightly round her captive’s head, covering her lips. Frances was just glad her hair was up as she
was silenced more and more, before the tape was torn free and she was forced to
sit up.
“Chrrddhllnnnn…”
“Need to make
sure you really can’t get free,” Cordelia growled as she took a longer length
of rope from her bag, doubled it over, and then passed it round Frances below
her chest, pulling it tight as her arms were forced into her sides, and then
wrapping it round to form two bands that framed her chest. All Frances could do was look forward as her
arms were more and more secured, and the ropes tied off behind her. She was helpless, silenced – and afraid of
just what Cordelia was likely to do next…
The blonde gave
the ropes one more tug, and then reached round, squeezing Frances’ breasts as
she let out a muffled groan. “That
should be quiet enough,” she said with a smile as she picked up her bag and
jacket, and left the bound and gagged woman in her front room, wondering what
was going on before she walked back in.
“Up,” she said
as she forced Frances to her feet, and made her half jump, half shuffle across
her hallway and onto the now dark street outside. A large silver Daimler was outside, the boot
door open as Cordelia made her jump to the boot, and then sit on the edge
before she was tipped into the large space.
Grabbing more
rope form the bag, she secured Frances’ legs together below her knees, and then
bent her legs, binding her ankles to the chest ropes as the young brunette
groaned.
“We’ll take a
little drive – and then we have a little chat and see what happens,” Cordelia
said as she slammed the boot closed, plunging Frances into darkness as she
walked back and closed her front door, then got behind the wheel, looking at
herself in the rear view mirror before she started the engine and drove down
the dark street.
As she passed
the junction, a black van pulled out and followed her down the road, the driver
looking out through dark glasses…
The park was
dark as Cordelia pulled into the car park, smiling as she turned the engine
off. This would be a good spot to do
what needed to be done…
Frances felt
the car stop and lay still, wondering what was going to happen next…
“Right – to
work,” Cordelia said as she opened the driver’s door, and started to step out –
only to stop as she felt a cold disk against her side, and heard a male voice
say “we don’t want any trouble lady – step out slowly, hands in the air.”
“What the
hell,” Cordelia said as she looked to her side, and saw a man dressed in black,
a pistol against her side as two more appeared with lengths of rope in their
hands.
“I said to get
out,” the man repeated, Cordelia nodding as she stepped out, her hands raised
in the air.
“Turn round,
hands on the car…”
Frances could
hear the muffled voices – was Cordelia working alone, or had she partners she
had just met up with? Just how much
trouble was she in – and why did she feel excited despite everything…
“What the hell is
going on here? Is this a hijack,” Cordelia
said as she put her hands on the car roof, feeling the man frisk her down as
another looked in the front.
“She’s got a
piece in her bag.”
“Take the bag,”
the man behind her said before he forced Cordelia to put her hands behind her
back, crossing and holding them together as the third man started to bind them
together with rope, taking the cords around and between her arms as he secured
them. It was tight, and as she wriggled her
fingers Cordelia was trying to consider her options.
“There – stand up
straight.”
She felt she
had no choice, but as she saw the rope passed round her body, and pulled tight
under her chest as her arms were forced into her sides, she glanced to the rear
of her car, wondering what her own captive was feeling. She could feel the pressure on her own body
as the rope was wrapped round, framing her own chest as it was forced out, the
tiger print stretching over her breasts.
Cordelia
remained calm, even as the man fed the rope under the lower band on her left
side, and pulled it up, making her gasp as he took it round the back of her
neck, and then under the other side, pressing down on her…
“Who are you?”
“A good
question – and we will answer hat later,” the man said as she was turned round,
and she saw a compressed sponge ball in his gloved hand. “Right now, you need to be quiet, and open
your mouth.”
“No way,”
Cordelia said as she clamped her mouth shut – and then she felt the man behind
her as he pinched her nose closed, waiting as long as she could before she
opened her mouth to breathe – and the sponge was pushed into her mouth,
expanding behind her teeth as she closed her lips.
She then
watched as he peeled the backing paper off a strip of brown sticking plaster,
shaking her head, but it was no use, as he pressed the plaster firmly over her
mouth, and then smiled.
“Take her to
the van,” he said quietly as her arms were held on both sides, and she was
walked over to a waiting black van, the side door opened as a fourth man looked
out. Cordelia was forced to step inside,
and then sit on a mat as the men lashed her ankles and legs together, above and
below her knees, with more rope. She
struggled, but it was useless, as two of the men sat watching her and the other
two got out.
“Here,” the
leader of the group said as he searched in Cordelia’s handbag, and passed her
car keys over, “follow us. I’ll inform
the team to cleanse her residence.”
“Got it…”
Frances felt
the engine start again and the vehicle move off. What on earth was happening now…
As the van came
to a halt, Cordelia stared at the men, wondering what exactly was going on as
she heard doors open and close, and then the side door of the van opened. She could see what looked like a warehouse
outside, as two men dressed in white stepped in and lifted her out, placing her
on a gurney.
“As requested,
George,” the man who led the team said as he spoke to a large African
gentleman, Cordelia looking up as he smiled at her, “where do you want her?”
“Take her to
processing – she will be a lot for tonight,” George said, “have her home
cleared. Welcome to Objects of Beauty,
Cordelia – we have an exciting new opportunity for you…”
“NNNNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Her muffled screams faded as she struggled on
the gurney, the two men smiling as she was pushed away. George watched before he said “good work John
– is this her car?”
“It is,” John
replied as he walked over, and then they heard the thumping. “Is someone inside?”
“Open the boot,”
George said as the man popped the lid, John opening it up as Frances stared at
both of them.
“Well,” George
eventually said, “this is a little unusual.
Help her out of there, release her from her bonds, and then bring her to
my office, so I can understand what exactly is going on here.”
“Not a lot?”
“Not yet,”
George said as he walked off, John removing the ropes holding Frances’ legs and
then helping her to stand as he cut the tape away.
“What… What happened?”
“That is a good
question… What’s your name?”
“Frances…”
“Well, Frances,
let’s get you untied, get you a drink, and then you can tell George what
happened…”
George sat
behind his large desk, his hands together and his chin resting on his
fingertips as he listened to Frances.
“… The next thing I know, the boot opens, and
you two are looking at me. What is this
place anyway?”
“An auction
house for those with particular tastes – so Cordelia was skimming funds from
your company?”
“Looks like it
– what sort of tastes?”
George looked
at John, and said “Objects of Beauty specialise in supplying female workers and
companions to gentlemen and ladies of taste and discretion.”
“A slave
auction?”
“We prefer to
call ourselves a clearing house,” John said quietly, “and the fact we have told
you this means you have a choice to make.”
Frances nodded
as she said “so when you said I am not a lot…”
“At the same
time, we cannot let you just leave and tell the police, so as John says, you
have a choice to make – be a lot, or come and work for us. As it is, I have an opening – if you are
interested.”
Frances looked
at both of them, and said “go on…”
“Onefifty onefityfive onesixty… Going
once… Going twice… SOLD!”
Cordelia could
only watch from the gurney she was strapped to as she was wheeled off, the Arab
gentleman smiling as she was taken backstage.
“The
purchaser?”
George looked
at the tablet, before nodding. “You will
be very happy there – prepare her for transport.”
“NHHHLKPPPPPMMMMMMMMMMMM,”
she called out as she looked round, and then stared at Frances.
“Safe journeys,
boss – I’ll let the firm know you quit when I hand in my resignation,” she said
quietly, smiling as she watched her captor being taken away…
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