I’m not really sure how much more of this I will be able to take before I go over the edge – the feelings that are coursing through me right now are indescribable, and mingled with more fear than I really want to admit at this time, but for the sake of Patty I mustn’t show just what I’m feeling. She’s only seventeen, and too terrified to even move, afraid of what it may do to her.
And I cannot say I blame her either. After all, when she came home with me and my flatmate an hour or so ago, I think this was the last thing any of us expected to happen – and yet here we are, the two of us in this room, and Betty – well, hopefully the same as us elsewhere, but we have no way of knowing.
Betty and I share this student flat, and Patty had come down from our parent’s place to spend the weekend. Apart from the fact we both have long wavy brown hair, we don’t look that much alike – I’m small, and slightly dumpy, and she’s as thin as a rake. I like to wear browns and autumn colours, she likes denim and leather. Take tonight, when we went out to dinner – I had put on a brown smock top with a light floral print, leggings and knee length brown suede boots with a small heel, while Patty had on a blue denim blouse and leather pants, with black ankle boots.
As for Betty, she had put on a grey jersey dress and knee length boots – and there they were, on the floor by the door, where the two men had forced her to leave them before they…
I’m getting ahead of myself – and as I look at Patty, I try and reassure her it’s going to be all right. As I move though – oh sweet Jesus the way that makes me feel…
Anyway, we got back to the flat at about nine, and I unlocked the door to let them in, closing the door behind me – and then it started as we walked into the front room.
There were two of them, both wearing jeans and jumpers, and black gloves on their hands. They didn’t have anything covering their faces – but what they did have were guns in their hands, and enough of a menacing manner to make it clear that they were in charge.
Patty whimpered – which just seemed to make them angrier, as one of them went to hit her. I stood in the way, however, and said that she was just a kid, and she was scared.
That was when one of them said he would show her something to be scared of – and produced from a black bag yards and yards of rope. Betty screamed when she saw that – making the second man say something very threatening indeed as he grabbed her arm.
She was made to sit and watch as Patty and I were told to stand facing each other, and our arms were guided behind our backs, my wrists crossed as I felt one of them wrap rope tightly around them to hold them together. Patty was standing crying in front of me, so I kept talking to her, telling her not to be afraid, that everything was going to be all right.
Betty tried to do so as well, but it was more difficult when I saw the man take the rope around Patty’s body under her chest, and pull hard, forcing her arms into her sides as her chest was forced out.
It was worse for me though – as my arms were constricted to my sides, and the rope went above and below, I could feel the material of my top stretching tightly over my chest, and I could see it forced up and out. Even more so when the guy started to wrap the rope under one arm, round the back of my neck and under my other arm, the same thing happening to Patty as we both gasped.
Such lovely looking ladies, the man behind me said as he reached round and squeezed my chest and then I saw the other man grope Patty. I think I said something about laving us alone at that point, which only made them grope us harder, and then make us both kneel on the floor facing each other.
We then watched as they made Betty stand up, and ordered her to remove her dress and her boots. As one of them watched her do this, gun in hand, the other started to make knots at regular intervals in two lengths of rope. We looked at each other, wondering what he was going to do, but when he knelt behind me, wrapped the rope around my waist and then pulled it up between my legs, forcing the knots to press through the fabric of my leggings, I let out a yelp of surprise.
So did Patty, especially as he tied the ropes to our wrist and then pulled them up, making it rub – well, you can guess where it rubbed.
Which is why we’re trying so hard not to move now – I can’t speak for Patty, but I can feel how damp it is between my legs, which makes it even more sensitive.
Anyway – while he was doing that, his friend had started to bind Betty as she stood in her grey pants and bra, the rope pressing into her bare flesh as her upper body was secured as tightly as ours. She pleaded with them, asking why they were doing this – and that’s when they told her, as I tried not to move my hands.
You see, Betty’s dad is a director of a big financial company, and worth several million pounds in his own right. The two men had decided he was going to share some of that money with them, but they weren’t going to kidnap her as such – just hold her hostage until he paid up. As for us – we were collateral damage, I suppose. What they said was they’d call him, and she’d talk to him, and arrange a place and time to leave the money – in exchange for her.
Well, she said it wouldn’t work, but then they said exactly what they would do to us if she didn’t cooperate, which got us agitated as we tried to move, which made the ropes – well, we stopped fairly quickly, as I was made to go and lie face down on the couch, and Patty to lie on the rug on the floor. I watched as my sister’s ankles were crossed and tied tightly together, and then her legs below her knees, barely aware the same thing was happening to me as well.
Then they produced three sponge balls, and for a moment I wondered what they were for – until he pulled on the rope between my legs, making me yelp and open my mouth and allowing him to push the sponge in, pressing my tongue down and expanding to fill my mouth.
“WHhhh,” I moaned as a length of white tape was pressed firmly down over my mouth, and I watched Patty getting the same thing, while a rope was tied between Betty’s legs.
They them frogmarched her out of the room, and that was the last we saw of her up to this point. We just lay there. Patty rolling onto her side and trying to move from time to time – but each time, that rope rubbed that little bit more, and it started to feel more and more sensitive between my legs.
We’d heard her talking to her dad, and then nothing but muffled moans – but they had been getting more frequent and louder, until – holy fuck, did she just scream?
I started struggling like mad to get free at that, my boots squeaking as they rubbed against each other, the ropes caressing and rubbing against my chest, my breath coming in nasal gasps as I try to get free, and that one rope – that one damn rope rubbing against me and…
Oh sweet Jesus! I gasped and arched my back as I came despite my best efforts, and then collapsed onto the couch, panting as I watched Patty. She was writhing round as well, her pants the thing squeaking now before she screamed into her gag and then relaxed, looking at me.
One of the men came in, with something I’d never seen before – he must have found it in Betty’s room. Two of them actually, like little tampon tubes, with a quite buzzing coming from…
The dirty little… I never knew she had them, but as he pulled at the waistband of my leggings and pushed one of them against my crotch, under the fabric and rope, I close my eyes and moan out loud – matched by Patty as he pushes one under her crotch rope and pants as well.
He does something else – tears off another strip of tape and presses it down over my eyes when I close them, so that I cannot see or speak. All I can do is lay there and enjoy the experiences coursing through me, accompanied by the sound of Patty going through the same thing.
Again and again and again…