In Their Own Words – No Problems

This week, In Their Own Words returns to the topic of how those who have mobility issues have dealt with the prospect of being part of a hostage or a robbery situation, often through a surprising beginning.

Take, for example, the story of Diane…

I had been out for a trip to the country, and for some stupid reason I had worn an old Russian fur hat on my head, covering my long black hair, and even worse (in retrospect) a fake fur wrap round my neck that looked as if it had ahead on either end.

Looked like. Anyway, I wheeled myself into my house and removed the heavy coat I was wearing, revealing the blue and white shift dress I was wearing with a grey cardigan, grey leggings and knee length black leather boots.

Which was when the two women confronted me. They were both dressed in black, wearing dark glasses – and one pointed a gun at me as the other whispered “so you like to wear innocent animals?”

I would have said something, but I was so shocked about the fact someone had broken into my cottage that all I could do was mumble – and then I saw the coil of rope the second woman had in her hands, as she walked over to stand behind me.

The next thing I knew, the rope was pulling my arms against my sides as she wrapped it round my upper body, going down in a spiral as her partner put the gun down – then held my wrists together as the rope was used to bind them together as well.

She then wrapped the rope round my upper legs and the seat of my wheelchair, then down my legs before she secured my ankles together. Ten minutes – ten minutes and I was immobilised in my chair, watching as they took my hat and wrap off me.

“We’ll dispose of these – once we have your valuables,” the one who had carried the gun said before they stuffed a cloth into my mouth, the edges sticking out from between my lips as I sat there. I was too shocked, too scared to do the obvious thing and spit the cloth out, call for help.

One of them stayed in the room with me, while the other went and searched the rest of the house, taking all my valuables in a pillowcase before they stuffed the hat and wrap in there as well.

After they left it took my an age to manage and move myself somehow to where my panic button was – it was almost dawn the next day before the police arrived…

For twenty year old Karen, it was the end of a very bad day when she was shown a little kindness…

I had just broken up with my partner, and I was feeling like shit as the taxi dropped me off outside my block of flats. I was wearing a black sheer top that had fleece sleeves over a white t-shirt, and blue jeans with the legs tucked into a pair of over the knee black fabric boots with stack heels. I looked up as I wheeled myself up the ramp and through the door, then took the lift to the second floor and let myself in.

I just wanted to cry – but that was shocked out of me by the hand that clamped over my mouth as I went into my bedroom. A soft male voice whispered into my ear, telling me to be quiet, and not panic. When I nodded, I looked to the side and saw this handsome man kneeling there.

He said he didn’t want to hurt me, but he had to make sure I could not raise the alarm while he took my jewellery and other things. He also asked if it was him who had upset me – and I had to admit it was another “little thief of a man.”

That made him laugh, as he lifted me out of the chair and sat me on the side of the bed. There was a canvas bag on the floor, from which he drew out a length of white cord and knelt on the bed behind me.

As he tied my wrists together, I asked him if he was afraid I was going to run off. That made him laugh – but he said he was still going to make sure my legs were secured as well as my upper body.

That amused me slightly, so as the rope pressed my arms against my sides, and stretched my top so much you could clearly see the top underneath, I asked him why he felt he had to do that. He said he had two reasons – one, professional standards dictated he had to do that.

It was the other reason he gave that really made me raise an eyebrow – he said it would be disservice to me to treat me any differently than anyone else he robbed.

That was something I had not considered, so I watched as the white rope was pulled tightly round my ankles, and then round and between my legs below my knees. I could see the fabric of my boots seeming to get lighter under what was undoubtedly tight bindings – I could tell from my arms and wrists, if not my legs.

The man then helped me to lie on my side, before he pressed some tape down over my mouth – having first stroked the hair from my face, and told me how beautiful I looked, and how he regretted doing this to me. Was it flannel? Possibly – but it was nice to be appreciated, even as he ransacked my drawers and took all my valuables.

He even called the police to let them know where I was…

Christmas may have passed, but for Rebecca one night just before was a silent one…

It was Christmas Eve, and I was putting the finishing touches to my tree. It’s only an artificial one, but I wanted it to be ready before my fiancé came for dinner that night.

I’ve been in this wheelchair since a riding accident some years ago, but I still like to dress fashionably- so that night I had on a whit jumper with a yoke collar that came down off my shoulders, black leggings and red knee length suede boots. It was as I put the last bauble on that a voice behind me said “Allow me to put the star on.”

“Thank you,” I said as I held it out - and then I turned to see someone dressed as Santa Claus standing there, complete with white beard. He also had a sack – and a pistol in his black gloved hand which he pointed at me as he put the star on.

“You’re no Santa,” I remember saying.

“Of course not – after all, my sack is empty,” he said as he looked at me, “save for these.” And with that, he drew out and put on my lap a roll of red tape, some red rope – and a set of fairy lights.

“What are they for?”

“To light up your life – and tie you up,” he said as he took the first length of red rope, and made me lean forward as he took my hands behind my back, and lashed my wrists together. I could feel the pressure on my arms – and even more so when he used a much longer length to force my arms against my sides, and frame my chest.

As I wriggled round, he knelt down in front of me and crossed my ankles, the rope compressing the suede as he bound my ankles together, and then he secured my legs together below my knees. I obviously could not feel what this was doing – and I wasn’t going to use my wheelchair now – but he smiled as he manoeuvred me so that I was against the wall, facing my tree.

“Okay, so I’m stuck here,” I said, 2and I guess the tape is for my mouth, but the lights?”

“Silent night, dear lady.”

“What does that mean – oh, that’s what you mean.”

He had started to wrap the lights round my body and the chair, holding me loosely against the back support and the seat, before he plugged them into a wall socket and switched hem on, so that the lights started blinking. He then tore strips of the red tape from he roll and pressed them down over my mouth, so that I could not call out – and then he turned the lights off.

Well, two sets of lights were still shining – the tree lights, and my binding lights. I could hear him in my bedroom, and he then left – but boy, did my fiancé get a surprise when he let himself in…

Toni had an encounter with the man called the Selfie Snatcher by the press…

I was leaving the faculty building – or intending to at any rate, when I stopped to look at myself in a mirror. My dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail on top of my head, and I was wearing my black leather jacket over a black top, a long black silk skirt with white polka dots, and high black Ugg boots.

Anyway – yes, I caught a look at myself, and then wheeled myself over into a quiet corner. Looking round, I took my mobile phone out, and took a selfie…

Bear in mind, this guy was best known for striking in your home – so the last thing I expected was to feel a pressure against my back, and hear a voice say “good – take the cloth I am handing to you, and push it into your mouth.”

“What the…”

“No fuss – I’m not going to hurt you, we’re just going to take a trip. Now, put the cloth into your mouth.”

I’m not sure if I was more scared or excited, but I took the white cloth, opened my mouth and gently pushed the cloth in until; I could close my lips over it. There was then a peeling sound before he pressed something down over my mouth – and when I glanced in the mirror, I could not see anything no there.

I also could not say anything, so I had been gagged – and then he took the arms of the wheelchair and started to wheel me towards the rear entrance of the building. It was he strangest feeling 0 I could not talk, and nobody stopped us!

When we went out into the deserted car park, he wheeled me to a large car, and then used some rope to secure my wrists and ankles together. Opening the rear door, he lay me along the back seat and then covered me with a blanket, before closing the door. I could hear him opening the boot, and putting what I presumed was my wheelchair in, before it was closed and then we drove off.

All sorts of things were running through my head at that point, as the journey continued – but then the car stopped, I heard him taking my wheelchair out, and then he lifted me into the chair and wheeled me into the building.

I stared at my friends who were gathered there, as they shouted “SURPRISE!” Turned out it was an actor they had hired to get me to a surprise birthday party.

And I only wanted to mildly lynch them after that…

Of course, sometimes it is not that obvious when someone is in distress – take the case of Suki…

IT was not possible for me to avoid this meeting, despite everything that was going on at home. The events there started earlier in the morning, and as my minder wheeled me into the presentation all I cold do was smile and do my part.

I had worn the appropriate clothing for the occasion – a peach coloured dress with a white lace top and a long pleated skirt, long black boots, and a blue blazer. I smiled and said what had to be said, all the time my minder watching and nodding as she smiled – she was dressed professionally as well, in a smart trouser suit with a white blouse under the jacket, and high heels.

As time went on, I have to admit, I was feeling more comfortable, only shifting slightly in my wheelchair – and feeling certain things as I did so. It’s just I could not exactly share what those feelings were.

Eventually, however, the meeting came to an end, and I exchanged some social pleasantries before my minder said it was time to go, and wheeled me out to the minivan she had brought me in. As she did so, I shifted round again – and I felt what I had on under the dress moving as well.

You see, it had been six in the morning when my husband had answered a knock on the front door, and then the two of them had come in. Both were smartly dressed, and they were armed – as one of them held my husband and I at gunpoint, the other woke up my sixteen year old daughter and forced her into the bedroom, still wearing her pyjamas.

The woman then made my husband sit me up and move into the wheelchair while the man made him and my daughter lie face down on the bed, and started to bind their wrists and ankles with rope. The woman then said I had a meeting to go to – and I was going, so she wheeled me to the bathroom and ordered me to shower.

When I came out, she took a long length of soft rope and wrapped it round my body, framing my chest in bands before she lifted me slightly and fed the rope down between my legs, then pulled it sharply up behind me. My – condition – meant I could feel the rope rubbing there as she tied it off, and then took me back into the bedroom.

My husband and daughter were now tightly bound with rope, their ankles secured to the foot of the bed, and tape pressed down over their mouths. I had to dress as the woman then took me to the meeting – but not before she had secured my legs together below my knees, and made sure my skirt covered that binding.

Now she was locking my wheelchair into place in the van, before she took more rope and forced my ankles together as well. She then made me put hands together in front of me and secured my wrists together, and then tied them down to my ankles. She then pulled a rolled up scarf between my lips to keep me quiet, before she said “now, let’s go to your offices – I want the contents of your safe…”

The police finally found Suki in her offices when her husband managed to free himself and contact them.

Finally, a love story…

My name’s Carol – I’m twenty one, and I recently met my life partner in very unusual circumstances…

I was making my way down the high street late one Saturday afternoon, wearing a padded jacket with a fur lined hood over a blue jumper, faded jeans and grey suede boots. I had leather gloves on my hands – just as well, because I needed the extra grip to steer my chair – but I was happy as I made my way along with the wool scarf round my neck.

I was going into the local arts shop to check on sales of my designs – but as I opened the door, I didn’t see the “CLOSED” sign – or anything else, until I saw her sitting there.

She was wearing the same style of jacket with me, but with the hood down and around her neck and her black hair swept back, the same style of jeans, but short grey boots – only her gloved hands were tied to the wheels of her chair with rope, and she had rope holding her ankles together, her legs below her knees, and around her upper arms.

She also had white tape over her mouth, as she looked at me and said “GHTTHHTTTH!”

“Too late,” a masked man said as he appeared from the back of the store, and pointed a gun with the barrel cut off at me. “Get over there, next to the lassie, and sit very still.”

I didn’t have a choice, did I? So I wheeled myself over, and looked at the girl as she mumbled “hmshrhheee,”

“It’s all right,” I said quietly as the man put the gun down and put my wrist against the wheel of my chair. There was a rasping sound as he secured my arm to the metal – and I was never so glad I had my padded coat on, so it took most of the pressure on both sides as he made sur e I could not move my hands away.

He then knelt in front of me and used another zip tie to secure my ankles together, a fourth for my legs below my knees – and my scarf was pulled tightly round my upper body to make sure I could not move at all.

“Whstthsurhnhm?”

I looked at the other captive girl and said “Carol – what’s yours?”

“Jhhh.”

I nodded and then swallowed as I saw the long strip of tape in his gloved hands – a strip which was then pressed firmly down over my mouth. IT stuck to the contours of my face, making it all but impossible for me to talk as a second man looked out.

“Lock that door, we don’t need any more interruptions.”

He walked over and locked the door to the street, and then pulled all the blinds down before he went back through.

“Hhh.”

I looked at the other girl and said “whhtth?”

“Uhrrcuhhtt.”

I blushed as she said that before I felt her taped lips on my cheek, and I turned to return the kiss. It was unexpected, but it felt right to do so – and she seemed to think it was as well as we continued to kiss each other.

I later found out her name was Jo, and she was the temporary manageress – so when the masked men had come in, she had felt she had no choice as well. As for them, they robbed the bookies next door – it was nearly midnight before we were found and freed.

But we met for a drink the next night, and well…

That’s all from In Their Own Words for this week – until next time…

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