In Their Own Words – One Street









It was an ordinary week in an ordinary street in an ordinary town – and yet for those six days, a series of events took place that made the people who lived in the area wonder if the police were any good at their stated job – to protect and serve.


The sequence started on a quiet Saturday evening, as fifty two year old Hattie James was sitting at home, watching a film on Netflix when she heard a noise in her kitchen...


I live on my own – if you don’t count Mister Tibbs, my cat, so when I heard the sound I thought it was just him knocking something on the floor.  I didn’t hear a smash or glass breaking, so I ignored it and concentrated instead on admiring Ben Affleck.


If I had investigated, would things have turned out differently?  I don’t think so – the chances were I would just have been quieter longer, so no loss in that sense.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.


As I said, I was watching the film, relaxing in my leopard skin smock top and leggings.  I hadn’t even taken off my gold leather boots, while my red hair was swept back after the dye job at the hairdresser that day.


So I was, as you can imagine, totally absorbed – and then I smelt and felt the leather glove on the hand over my mouth, and heard the voice say “Don’t say a word – do exactly what I say, and you won’t get hurt, understand?”


I was so shocked at what had happened that all I could do was nod, as the voice behind me said “when I remove my hand, open your mouth.”


I nodded again, and the gloved hand was taken away.  Well, I opened my mouth, hoping to scream – but instead a sponge was shoved into my mouth, and the voice said “close your mouth.”


“Hrrru,” I mumbled as my lips came together, and then some sort of tape was pressed firmly down over my mouth, keeping them together as the voice said “lie down, and put your hands behind your back.”


Well, I am not the sveltest of women, but I did as he asked, lying on the couch I was sitting on and moving my hands behind my back, before I felt the intruder cross them and start to bind them tightly together with rope.


“Hrrru?  Whtdduwnt?”


“All in good time,” the voice said as I looked over my shoulder.  He had his back to me, the hood of his top pulled over his head, as he took the rope around and between my arms.  Once he had tied it off, I watched as he crossed and bound my ankles together, taking more rope from his pocket, and then bound my legs below my knees.


“Roll over.”


Roll over?  Had he actually looked at me?  However, he was the one in charge, so I rolled over and looked at the scarf covering his face, only his clear blue eyes showing.


“I’m going to rob you – stay here.”


Well, I wasn’t going anywhere, so I settled for turning and watching Ben rescue the hostages in Iran.


A short while later, he came back in, and made me sit up, bending my knees and then taking a length of washing line under my legs and around my back, so that my knees were under my chin and the only way I was going to get off that couch was if I rolled off.


Not that I was thinking that a few minutes later, as he tied an extra length of rope around my waist, and then somehow fed it between my legs and under me, pulling it up and pressing my leggings against me before he tied it to my wrists.


“Have fun,” he said as he left the room, leaving me wondering what he was talking about.  As I tried to move around, however, I realised what he had done – and trust me, I was very distracted for a while after that, until the police arrived...


Hattie was eventually found by police some time later, and gave her statement, and that in a sense should have been the end of it – the police find and charge the intruder, and they get tried and sentenced.


The next afternoon, however, forty five year old Sue, who lived two doors down, had a surprise visitor of her own...


I remember it was a warm day – and the news about what had happened to Hattie a few doors down had reached my ears.  I wondered what sort of man would leave her like that, as I returned to my own house, going in and placing my bag on the table by the door.  I had been out to lunch, and had on a yellow dress with a zigzag pattern which was gathered at my waist and went down to my knees.  The sleeves were pulled up to the elbows, and as I went into the front room I kicked off a pair of funky brown leather boots I had been wearing.


Which was the last thing I got to do by myself for a while, as I was hand gagged and a voice said “Don’t say a word, understand?”


I nodded slowly, too scared and shocked to do anything and the voice said “keep those lips closed, and slowly put your hands behind your back.”


I felt I had no choice, as I moved my hands behind me, and I felt him arrange them so that my elbows were resting in my palms – and then I heard the tearing sound, as my arms were forced together, some sort of tape holding them in place.


Exactly what sort of tape it was I found out next, as gloved hands took the silver roll around my upper arms, pinning them to my sides as they were held firmly in place, the grey clear on my top.


I was then pushed over towards a long couch, and told to sit down on it, and put my legs up on the seat.  As I did, I got a good look at the intruder – male, hooded top with the hood pulled up and a scarf round the lower part of his face, as he crossed and taped my ankles tightly together, then my legs below my knees.


“Make this easy on yourself,” he said to me as he tore the tape loose and pressed it down to the back of my legs, “where are your valuables?”


“Upstairs,” I said as I wriggled round, feeling my skirt rise up under me, “what are you going to do to me?”


“Nothing you will not like,” he said – and then he pressed his lips to mine, before he pressed several strips of the tape over my mouth.  I watched as he left the room, and then tried to force the tape off me – with very little success.


Actually, let’s be honest – with absolutely no success.  When he returned a few minutes later, all I had succeeded in doing was making my skirt ride up so the top of my pantyhose was showing.


Which was regrettable – because when he showed me the vibrator he had found, and slipped in into me switched onto maximum before he taped my legs together around my thighs, I had no way of fighting him, stopping him, or preparing myself for what was happening to me...



Again, Sue was discovered by police some time later – two incidents in twenty four hours, both women bound, gagged and left with, shall we say, a distraction?  The age seemed to go almost unnoticed of both Hattie and Sue – until the Tuesday afternoon, while they conducted house to house interviews, and Maggie had finished talking to the constable.  We let the sixty year old take up the story...


I’m retired now – have been for three months – so I spend the day at home working on my stories now.  I like blue, so I was dressed in that colour – a chintz style print top, with an old wool cardigan over it, and faded jeans.  I also had on a pair of knee length brown flat boots, the legs of my jeans tucked into them.


As I said, I was typing, so I had my glasses on, and spent a few minutes talking to the constable at the door, telling him what little I could of what I had seen the previous two days.  Which, as I say, was very little.  As I closed the door, I had no idea that a few minutes later, I’d have a lot more to say on the subject of interest.


My office is on the first floor of my house, so I walked back up and sat myself at the desk, looking again at my references on Victorian Criminals – and that was when I felt the cold disc on my back, the hand over my mouth, and heard the voice saying “very slowly, move your hands behind your back, and remain quiet.”


“Who are you,” I whispered, but the voice repeated “Be quiet” as the intruder took my cardigan off me, and then my hands were moved behind my back.  I felt rope around my wrists as they were secured together.  Once they were bound, more rope was wrapped around my arms and chest, sitting above and below my breasts as my arms were forced into my sides.


“Stand up and walk to your bedroom,” the voice said, and as I stood and turned I saw him.  Six foot, his head covered by the hood of his top, a scarf around his mouth as only his blue eyes could be seen.


“Your bedroom,” he said quietly as he waved his gun at me, so I felt obliged to walk with him into the room, the ropes rubbing and pressing on my chest as we went in.  I sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he crossed and tied my ankles tightly together, the rope rubbing on the leather as he did so.


He then tied my legs together below my knees, and I felt his fingers brushing over my thighs as he took the rope between my limbs.  I knew I wasn’t going anywhere – and he knew it as well, as he made me tell her where my valuables were.


It was once he had done that the fun began, as he knelt on the bed behind me and started to massage my chest reaching round from behind.  I gasped as he did that, and said “What do you think you’re doing?”


“Be quit or I’ll make sure you are quiet,” was his reply as he continued to squeeze my chest, and I said “I’ll scream – there are police outsddhmmggddwhatsths?”  I hadn’t been able to stop him pushing a knotted head scarf into my mouth, and tying it round my head.


All I could do was try to protest, rubbing my legs together as the leather squeaked, and he kept going, eventually making me react as well as I closed my eyes and sighed – which was when he suddenly left me.


I fell onto my side and tried to look for the phone – he’d taken my glasses off and left them in the office – but it was ages before a policewoman finally found me...



That someone was specifically targeting older woman on this one street was becoming more obvious – and it also seemed the break-ins were leading to steadily more intimate contact with the person the intruder found.

It could be argued had the police realised, it would have prevented further intrusions – but two days passed with no incident.  Then, on the Thursday, fifty eight year old Faith was clearing her room when someone interrupted her...


I was planning to go out and meet the girls – a night out, a few drinks, nothing serious.  The clothes I had chosen to wear were nothing special – a round necked chocolate coloured top with some sparkle on the front, black jeans and felt ankle boots with tassels.


Anyway, I was putting some earrings in when I saw him – hood over his head, scarf round the bottom of his face, and pointing a gun at me.  I slowly turned round and raised my hands, as he told me to lie down on the bed and put my hands together as if I was praying.


I moved slowly, talking to him to keep him and me calm, but as I lay there I knew what was coming – especially when I saw him take a long length of cord from his bag and lash my wrists together, taking the rope around and between them, and then taking my hands above my head as he tied the ends to my headboard.


He then took a large handkerchief from his pocket, and made me open my mouth before he stuffed it inside, and then covered my mouth with strips of white tape.  As I wriggled round, trying to speak, my top rose up a little as well, exposing my belly.


He then walked to the bottom of the bed, and tied one end of another length of cord around my ankle, pulling it to the side and securing it the leg of the bed.  Once he had the other ankle secured, he looked at me and stroked his hand up the inside of my leg, before he started to search the room.


I was powerless to stop him, unable to prevent him finding and taking my valuables – but that wasn’t the only thing that happened.  As he looked at me, struggling on the bed, he suddenly started to grope my chest, making me yelp in protest as his hands sank into my breasts and started to massage them.


Nobody had touched me there in years – and I realised how much I had missed that when I started to arch my back, unable to stop carnal lust taking over as I wriggled round.  I didn’t even complain as he pulled my top up, and started to massage my chest where my bra was on – or even when he eased that up and started to kiss my firm nipples, while his hand...


That was when I got worried – when his hand stroked up between my legs, and I moaned loudly.  I got even more worried when he unfastened my jeans and pulled them down a little – and then left me.


When he returned, he had my electric toothbrush, which he switched on – and then ran over my chest, making me wiggle and moan at the same time as I responded.  It was when he stuck it into my panties, and I felt it on my sex, that I really started to moan loudly.


That was how he left me, tied to the bed, and that damned thing working me into a frenzy time after time, until the battery ran out.   It was morning before someone came in and found me – and I had finally gone to sleep, unable to keep myself awake any more...



Now police were becoming aware of what was going on – but they still had not connected this with the previous three incidents.  Even as they were investigating this, however, the intruder struck again, at the home of forty three year old Joan...



I had finished my breakfast, and was preparing to head off to meet friends for the morning, when I saw the police cars arrive on the other side of the road.  To be honest, it didn’t occur to me to ask – I just looked at myself in the mirror, and wrapped the long patterned scarf so that it hung in front of me, crossed just above the top of the opening of my brown smock top.  I was also wearing a pair of matching knee length leggings, and brown wedge sandals – and my glasses of course.  I could not forget my glasses.


I smiled before I went into my kitchen to fetch my handbag – and that was when I saw the young man.  He looked at me with his clear blue eyes, over the scarf covering the lower part of his face, and then pointed a very real gun at me.


Pulling a chair away from the kitchen table, he looked at me and said in a quiet voice “sit down please, hands on your head.”


I walked forward slowly and sat down, placing my hands on my head as she reached round, and pulled my scarf round my neck.  He did something behind me, and then he pulled the scarf tightly on my mouth, and said “open wide.”


Well, I did as he asked, the material going into my mouth between my lips as he pulled it tight, and then passed the two ends round my head, taking them between my lips against before he secured them behind me.  I held my tongue down, and filled my mouth – so that when he tore the end from a roll of white tape, and used it to cover the scarf, he sealed my lips and mouth so tightly I could not speak.


He then took my arms from my head and held them against the back of the chair, using the tape around my wrists and elbow to make sure they were held tightly in place.


He did the same for my legs, putting them against the front legs of the chair before he taped my ankles and below my knees to the wood.  On its own, that would be enough to keep my body there – but he didn’t stop with that.


I was powerless to stop him as he pulled my top up and over my head, and then taped my body to the chair back, forcing my chest up, and then pulled my leggings down to the front of the seat, and raped my thighs to the seat.


And then he started – using his lips on my neck and chest, massaging my chest as he did so, making me turn from fear to an altogether different feeling.  I don’t know if it was the fact I could do nothing about it, or how gentle he turned out to be, but when he moved his hand down between my legs, and played with my sex, I found myself gasping, painting, desiring more and more...


When it happened, I screamed into the gag, and then sat still, eyes closed, panting as I heard him go upstairs and help himself to my things.  When he came back, he checked the tape, and then left me alone, to try and get free...


Joan’s experience, when it was discovered, finally made the local forces realise they had a home intruder on their hands who was getting bolder.  It was too late, however, for forty two year old Alice...


It had been a long day at work, and I was just glad to be back.  I work in a local legal office, but I like to be a little daring, so I was wearing a turquoise top with a square yoke neck and buttons on the front, with elbow length sleeves.  IT was tucked into an over the knee skirt which had a Japanese horse print on it, tied with a little bow at my waist, and a pair of black leather boots.


What I really wanted was a quiet night – guess I got that, eventually, but...


I closed the door, went in – and felt the leather gloved hand over my mouth as I was told by a male voice not to scream or raise the alarm.  I could see the gun in front of me, so I nodded slowly as I was told to stand still, and put my hands behind my back.


After I did this, I felt some sort of cord being tied around them, as they were forced together, the rope biting into my skin as it went around and between my arms.  I was too terrified to move, as they were held tightly together, and I felt him putting my ankles together, and then securing them in the same way.


“If this is a robbery, I don’t have much,” I whispered quietly.


“I know, I already looked,” the voice said, “and I want to show you.  Jump to the stairs.”


He wasn’t kidding either, as he made me jump to and up the stairs, and then into my bedroom.  I could see the open drawers, as he said “you are going to do whatever I say – stand still.”


I wondered what he was going to do, but was totally unprepared for him untying the bow at my waist, and pulling my skirt all the way down, repealing my thong and not a lot else.  I could feel his gloved hands on my legs as well, before there was more rope, pulling my legs together below my knees and holding them together.


“What...  What are you going to do,” I said quietly, as he pulled the rope between my legs, and I felt him stroking them again.  He stood up behind me, and then took hold of my top, pulling it up over my head and down my arms – and I suddenly wished I had found a clean bra that morning, as he started to massage and grope my naked chest, and I could feel him.


“Oh my god,” I whispered, “please...”


“Shh,” he said as he removed my glasses, and set them to one side – and then I saw him picking up my scissors.  Two snips, and I could feel the cold air – and then he was holding the g-string in front of my mouth, saying quietly “open wide.”


I could taste my fear on them as they were pushed into my mouth, and then the tape was wound tightly round my head.  He then used more rope to bind my arms to my sides, taking it above, below and between my breasts, making them far more prominent and accessible to his hands – and as he pulled me towards him, I could feel his own excitement.


“Hmgdssnnn,” I said as he made me kneel on the side of the bed, and then I heard the zip as it was pulled down, and the pants fall to the floor, before...



When he was done, he made me lie on the bed, pulling my ankles back and securing them to the chest ropes, and then he left.  My boyfriend tried calling, and when he couldn’t get an answer he came round – finding me alone, defiled, petrified...


As suddenly as the home invasions started, they ended.  Was this a one off?  Did what he did scare him off?  Or is he out there, plotting, planning...







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