In Their Own Words: Not a Barrier









This week, on In Their Own Words, five women who share more than the experience of being robbed, but also another far more fundamental thing.  We start with Kate, who came into her ground floor flat one evening to find an unexpected visitor...


I had been put for dinner with some friends, and so I had dressed up for the occasion – a black cocktail dress with lace top and sleeves, dark tights and knee length black leather boots.  It had been a very enjoyable evening, and one of my friends had driven me back, set my wheelchair up and helped me to get in.


I did ask him if he wanted to come in for a coffee, but he said he had to get home, so politely declined.  If he had come in with me, things could have been very different, but as it was...


I unlocked my front door, and pressed the button to open it, wheeling myself in before I turned and waved goodbye.  As my friend drove off, I don’t think he saw me as the hand was clamped over my mouth, and the door slowly closed...


“Normally, I would say don’t move,” a male voice said from behind me, “but somehow that seems irrelevant.  So do you promise not to scream and to do as I say?”


I slowly nodded as the other gloved hand reached round and removed my handbag from my lap.  “I’ve disconnected your phone,” he said quietly, “but I’m also turning off your mobile phone.  I need to make sure you don’t raise the alarm for a while.”




“Fair point,” the voice said as I heard him search through my purse, “but I’m taking no chances.”  He then removed my hand, and said “I’m going to take you to your bedroom.  I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to stop you raising the alarm for long enough to allow me to get away.  I promise I’ll call the police and let them know of your situation.”


“What do you mean, stop my raising the alarm,” I said quietly.


“Make sure you cannot move – well, use your arms – or call out,” the voice said as I was lifted onto the bed.  I could see him in the darkened room – older man, unshaven, and strong, as he lifted my hands above my head, and used some tape to secure my wrists to the head of my bed.  He then stroked my blonde hair away from my head, before he smoothed several layers of tape over my lips, covering and sealing my mouth.


He then left, as I looked up and started to twist my wrists round, trying to make the tape give way.  It took me a while, but eventually I was able to pull my left hand free, and peel the tape away from my mouth.  From that, I freed my other hand, and managed to push myself over to the edge of the bed and into my chair.


Wheeling myself into the front room, I saw the mess, but also managed to find my mobile phone and call the police.  He had stolen a laptop and a few small things, but at least I managed to free myself...


Kate’s story was a simple tale – but sometimes the binding can be far more stringent, even though the lady in question genuinely cannot move.  As an example, Gail works in a sports centre, which on the day she talks about was home to a gem fair...


I was working behind the reception desk, just doing my job, nothing out of the ordinary.  My identity card was on a lanyard, which was on top of my long blue scarf.  I was also wearing a floral print vest top, blue jeans and mid-calf brown fabric boots.  When I am at work, I wear these brown framed glasses with rectangular lenses, and on that day my brown hair was platted into a pigtail that came over my shoulder.


Anyway, the time came for my break, and I wheeled myself to the canteen for a drink and a snack.  It was when I was making my way back that I heard the noise in a room used to store gym mats and things – so I said “who’s there?”


There was no answer, but I could hear someone in there, so I opened the door and wheeled myself in – and then was pushed roughly in as the door was closed behind me.  I looked up to see a tall, burly man in front of me, wearing a stocking mask and with a gun in his hand.


“I told you someone heard us,” a second man said behind me, and then I felt a pair of hands as they pulled up my scarf, turned it round and pulled it into my mouth, my teeth biting down on the wool as they pulled the knot tight – very tight, as the end fell down my back.


“We don’t have time for this,” the man in front of me said as he produced a zip tie, like the one we use for securing files, and used it bind my wrists together in front of me.  And let me tell you, it hurt!


He then took a second strip, and used it to bind my ankles together.  The fact I was in a wheelchair seemed to have passed him by – or maybe he just treated all the women he tied up in the same way.  Anyway – the next tie went around my legs above my knees, and then one more linked my wrists to that third binding.


“Lock the brakes on this thing,” he said to whoever was behind me, as he picked up a bag and I saw the gun in his gloved hand – and then he walked past me without a by your leave, the door closing behind me.


It took me a few minutes to process my thoughts, and decide how I was going to try and get out of my predicament – which was when I looked down, and saw they had completely managed not to see my purple phone sticking out from under my thigh...


It took me a fair bit of shifting of bodyweight to get it between my legs, and then some upper body work on my part to pull it up between them, before I could raise the alarm...


Kate was unable to stop the robbery, but her testimony and description of the man who bound her did eventually lead to the arrest and conviction of the men responsible.


There are a surprising proportion of women who fantasise of being taken captive, and physical incapacity is not a barrier to dreams.  Nor, as Rachel discovered in our next tale, need it be...


I broke my back in an accident – I was cycling down the road when a lorry suddenly trend out, and hit me in the back.  So for the last two years, I have been forced into this wheelchair, and there are some things I miss – like walking to the shops, or just walking actually.


Anyway, I still like to look good, so the day all this happened I was wearing a white top with a fractal pattern and a black collar, as well as comfortable grey jeans.  I also had on a brown leather biker jacket, and over the knee brown suede boots with the legs of my jeans tucked in.  I had been to my gym for a workout – just because I now have a pair of useless legs, it does not mean I am weak elsewhere – and was dropped off outside my house by the ambulance.


I looked at the ramp leading to my front door through my glasses, and pushed myself along as the door opened – a nice little electronic device I had installed.   So I went into the kitchen, and put the kettle on before I slipped my coat off and hung it on a low hook by the door.  A few minutes later, I had a hot mug of coffee and a sandwich on a tray, balanced on my lap as I wheeled myself through to the front room.


I put the tray on the table, and manoeuvred myself onto the couch, before I turned the television on and picked up my plate, took the sandwich in my hand, put it to my mouth – and then saw the young man standing in the doorway, smiling as he pointed a very real gun in my direction.


“Sorry” he said as he looked at me, “I had hoped to be gone by the time you got home.  My bad luck – and yours.  You’re not going to try and run, are you?”


“You have got to be joking,” I said before I laughed – and then he saw the wheelchair. 


“Ah – well, nevertheless, no sudden moves, all right?  I don’t want to hurt you, but I do need to stop you raising the alarm.”


“So what are you going to do, tie me up?”


“Sadly,” he said as he looked at me, and held some ropes up, “yes.  Normally, I would not do this to someone who has...”


“Legs that don’t work?  Why – because we’re weak?”


“That was not what I meant...”


“If I was able bodied, what would you do?”


“Make sure you could not move and stop you calling for help.”


“Well, do that then – or you afraid?”  I have no idea why I said that, except there was an excitement ignited in me just by seeing him.


“All right then,” he said as he walked in, “eat your sandwich – I’m going to tie your legs together.”


“Well, if you must,” I said, but as I ate I watched as the man wrapped some rope around my ankles and bound them tightly together.  Not that I could feel it, but from the way the suede was compressed under the rope as it went around and between my legs I knew it was.  He then tied my legs together below my knees, taking the rope between my legs as well so that I could see the way they were secured.




“Well, I’ve had something to eat and drink at any rate,” I said as I put the cup and plate down, “now what?”


“Now – lean forward and put your hands behind your back.”


As I did so, he crossed my wrists behind my back – and now I could feel how tight the ropes were, as he bound my wrists together.  I could feel the bands holding them, and he certainly knew what he was doing.  He then helped me to sit up, and wound a much longer length of rope around my arms and chest, pulling them into my sides as he passed the rope round above and below my chest.  As he did so, he pulled each pass tight, and I was surprised at the way it felt as it forced my breasts up and out.


“Problem,” he said as he pulled the last pass tight, and then tied the two bands together behind me.


“No – just...  different...”  So as he then passed the rope over one shoulder, under the lower of the two bands, and then yanked it up, I gasped out while he took the rope back over the other shoulder.  I had heard that, for people like me, we do get more sensitive in other areas – but to discover it in that way...


“There,” the man said, “how does it feel?


“Tight – oh tight,” I whispered as he looked at me.


“Good – now to keep you quiet,” he said as he brushed my blonde hair away, and took my glasses off me, folding the legs and laying them on the tray.  “Open your mouth as wide as you can please.”


I nodded, distracted as I wriggled round by the ropes, and opened my mouth – then realised he was pushing a pair of my panties into the space behind my teeth.  I was just glad they were clean, before he took a roll of white tape from his pocket, and wound it round my head, covering my lips and keeping me unable to do more than mumble and moan.


“One more thing,” he said as he helped me to lie down, and then gently rolled me over, pulled my legs back and tied my ankles to the ropes at my back.  I still, obviously, felt nothing in my legs – but it did make me gasp as the ropes tightened on my chest.


“So – happy I treated you like anyone else,” he said, as I looked at him and nodded.  “Good – I’ll call the police in due course.  Until then.”


That was when he left, and I squirmed my upper body round – because I was getting excited for the first time in years, as the ropes and my couch rubbed on my chest.  By the time the police arrived, I had had two orgasms, and felt so relaxed...


Rachel could well be the exception rather than the rule – for Claire, it was a very different experience.


I’ll never forget that day – I work as the assistant manager of a local bank, and I was in my office when I heard the commotion outside my office.  Looking up, I could not see anything outside the door – but then, the door only had a small window higher up, so been in my wheelchair the chances were I would not see anyone anyway.


So when the door was thrown open, and a man wearing a ski mask and brandishing a gun said “get the hell out here!” I was taken completely by surprise.




“Are you blind,” I said as I wheeled myself round, and as he saw me, sitting in my wheelchair, wearing the blue uniform dress with a black scarf round my neck, and knee length black leather boots, he stared at me for a few moments.  He then said “don’t get cocky with me – put your hands on the wheels.”


“You’ve got the gun,” I said quietly as I did just that – and then he produced two zip ties.  Later, I learned the rest of the gang had used them to secure the wrists and ankles of the rest of the staff, before they had been gagged – but in my case he used them to secure my wrists to the wheel rims that I used to push the chair along.  He didn’t bother to do anything to my legs – but he did take the scarf off from my neck.


Actually, it would be more accurate to say he yanked it off, and then stuffed it into my mouth, before he came round and disconnected my computer, and took my handbag with him.  The way he had secured my wrists, there was no way I could move my chair more than a few inches, and the scarf stopped me calling for help.


It was over as quickly as it had started – I could hear them threatening the other staff, and then nothing until the police came in...


Finally for this week, Antonia relates the tale of what happened when she was getting ready to go to an awards ceremony...


I had finished dressing, and had just put on a wide brown leather belt with a swan buckle around the waist of my denim coat dress.  I had also put on a pair of brown knee length leather boots over my dark tight covered legs, and was just fastening a necklace round my neck when I heard a noise behind me.


Before I got a chance to find out who it was, a leather gloved hand was clamped over my mouth, and a female voice said “Redundant as this may sound, do not move, understand?”


Oh I understood – and I nodded slowly as the voice said “good – when I take my hand away, open your mouth as wide as you can.”


The hand was removed, I opened my mouth – and then felt as well as tasted the silk as a scarf, which had been rolled into a band and a knot tied in the middle, was pulled behind my teeth, forcing my tongue down and trapping my long blonde hair as the band was pulled round my head.  I could feel the ends as they were secured at the base of my neck, before my hands were taken around the back of my wheelchair and she started to use rope to secure them together.


“Ndwhhrrwldernt,” I mumbled as I felt the rope biting into my wrists.


“Oh something tells me you would find a way,” the woman said as she tugged the rope between my wrists, and then passed some rope round my waist, pulling me even further back into the chair.


She then walked in front of me, and I saw her for the first time – wearing a black jumper and stirrup pants, soft boots, gloves and a black domino mask over her eyes.  She smiled as she held up some more rope, and then secured my ankles tightly together, taking the rope around and between my useless legs.  She then tied them together below my knees as well, before she started to search the room, putting my valuables into a bag and then leaving me in the room.


Well, I struggled like mad, but the ropes just would not give – but that was the idea, to stop me moving after all.  So when she came back, and looked at me, I could see a strange look in her eyes.


“So helpless,” she said as she reached down, and unbuckled my belt, pulling it off and to the side, “And yet I can see you are curious.”




“About this,” she said as she kissed my neck, and then stroked her hands down my body.  And she was right – I was curious.


Curious to see what my girlfriend would do next, as she slowly unfastened my dress...


And with that, we bid you adieu for another week from In Their Own Words...






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