In Their Own Words –
Togetherness
Tonight on In Their
Own Words, we celebrate St Valentine’s day with some tales of events which led
to some – unusual outcomes. For our
first story, two women who discovered a mutual liking when one called to
deliver some misdirected mail…
I’d never really talked to or met Gerri in the two
weeks since she had moved in – I tended to keep myself to myself, if the truth
be told, but when a couple of what were obviously letters from the bank ended
up in my place by accident, I figured the only way to make sure she got them
was to deliver them in person.
I was still in my work clothes – a white elbow
length sleeved white top made of wool, a knee length green skirt with a zip at
the side from waist to hem, and black knee length leather boots. I have dark hair that is beginning to grey
slightly, but as I walked across the corridor, my door keys in my hand, how I
looked wasn’t exactly the first thing that was on my mind.
Knocking on the door, I waited for a moment, and
then Gerri opened the door. She had
short chestnut brown hair, and was wearing a top with long white sleeves and a
little bow at the neck. Over that was a
black silk waistcoat come corset, then a short black skirt in the same colour, stockings
and black leather ankle boots.
She seemed to have something on her mind however,
when she asked who I was and what I wanted.
I told her I lived across the hallway, and that I had some of her
mail. She looked at it, thanked me and
then took it from me, but I got the feeling she wanted me to go.
She then stopped, looked at me, and asked if I
wanted to come in for a few minutes.
Well, I accepted and came in – and then saw the man who had been
standing behind the door, grinning as he closed it and pointed a very real gun
at me.
Turned out she had returned a few minutes earlier
to find him in her flat, and she had been forced to hand over her
valuables. I could see the mess as we
were marched into the front room, and then he did something I was not
expecting.
He took out of a canvas bag a plastic zip tie, and
handed it to Gerri, instructing her to use it to secure my wrists together
behind my back! She looked at him, then
at me, and said sorry as she guided my wrists behind my back and secured them
together. She had a very soft touch…
Unlike the plastic strip, which dug into my bare
wrists as they were forced together. The
armed men then ordered me to kneel down, and lie on my stomach, before Gerri
was given a second strip, and she had to use it to force my ankles
together. She then lay on her stomach
next to me, the two of us looking at each other as the man then secured her
wrists and ankles with two more ties.
He then rolled us over, and before we could say
anything he was tearing strips from a roll of duct tape and slapping them over
our mouths, keeping us quiet before he grabbed his bag and ran out. We turned and looked at each other, as I
tried to get the strip round my wrists loose – but it was no good, they were
too tightly secured.
I stopped, panting through my nose and looking at
Gerri, the sweat stains on her blouse growing larger – and then she did
something very strange. She looked at
me, and said “urcuttuknw. Whtsurnmm.”
“Mllee.”
“Hllommlee,” she said as she wriggled closer, and
to my surprise placed her taped lips on mine.
To my even greater surprise, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips on
hers, as we shared a tender moment.
That seemed to last a glorious eternity before I
looked at her, and said “sss…
fnsssemtnguhr.”
She smiled – the tape crinkled – and shook her head
before she said “wnnddssrs.
Cmwfmmtkshn…” I watched as she
rolled over and sat up, and then began to scoot herself across the floor, as I
struggled to follow her.
Eventually, I made my way into the kitchen to see
she had managed to get hold of a knife somehow, and was using it behind her
back. As I came in, she managed to free
her hands, and rubbed her wrists before she cut through the tie around her
ankles, and then stood up.
“Give me a minute,” she said after she had removed
the tape from her mouth, and then she stood up, getting a pair of scissors and
cutting me free, before she peeled the tape away from my mouth.
“Hi – I’m Gerri,” she said with a smile.
“Molly – are you all right?”
She nodded as she brushed my hair from my face, and
said “so – I need to call the police, and tidy up. Want to give me a hand and then we can talk?”
I nodded as we stood up, and kissed each other…
For our second
tale, we go back to the Eighties, and how a secretary managed to get promotion
in the face of adversity…
At the time, I worked as the secretary to Glenda,
the head of HR for the company. We were
a small manufacturing company, and still paid most of our workers in cash at
the end of the week, despite the fact it was 1985. The money would be delivered each Friday at
one, and it was my job to make sure the envelopes were sorted and ready to hand
out.
On this particular day, it was cold, and I was
wearing a long sleeved coat dress with a winged collar, cream at the base with
brown stripes, that came down to my knees.
I also had a light creams silk scarf tied as a cravat round my neck, and
a pair of cream leather kneed length boots.
As for Glenda, she also had on a dress – hers was
taupe, with a white collar and cuffs on the sleeves, as well as tight burgundy
leather boots. Anyway, I was in her
office, taking a letter when the telephone rang.
“The wages are here,” she said as she put the phone
down, “and they need someone to come down and collect the envelopes. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course,” I said as I left the room, putting my
pad down at my desk and then walking to the reception desk. The courier was waiting there, as I signed
for the cash bag and then walked back to the office.
That was the way things tended to get done at the
time – before I was married, I worked in a supermarket in my home town, and
once a week one of us had to accompany the manager as he took the cash bags to
the post office to cash up!
We were in the building, however, so it should have
been more secure. Tell that to the two
men in overalls who were in the office with Glenda when I walked in. she was sitting on the floor, her arms behind
her back, and I could see the twine they had used to bind her ankles together.
“Took your time,” one of them said as Glenda looked
at me, and I could see the fear and panic in her eyes. “Money – now!”
“All right, all right, take the bag,” I said as I
handed it over, memorising as much as I could of both of them, “I’m not going
to give you any trouble.”
“What are you doing,” Glenda called out, “those are
the wages!”
“And they can be replaced – if they hurt us, that’s
a different matter,” I said quietly as the man took the bag, and the second one
walked behind me, yanking my arms behind my back as I felt the rough twine he
used to tie my wrists together. It hurt
– and he wasn’t gentle – but I wasn’t going to let him see how scared I was.
He then pushed me over towards Glenda, and ordered
me to sit down. As I did so, I saw
Glenda was starting to panic, and her breath was coming in short gasps. “Are you,” I said quietly, and as she looked
at me, the panic was clear in her eyes as she nodded.
I felt the man using more of the twine to bind my
ankles together, as I said “my friend here is asthmatic – she needs her
inhaler.”
The other man looked at Glenda as she nodded, and
said “ha… Ha… Handbag…”
He looked in and took out a brown inhaler, shaking it and putting it to
her mouth as he pressed down on the top.
Glenda breathed deeply in, and then said “thank you” as he stood
up. “We need to keep you quiet,” he said
as he looked round, and took our woollen scarves from the coat rack. “This means you’ll be able to breath – the
sticking plaster would be a problem.”
“thank you,” she whispered before the white scarf
was pulled between her lips and tied at the back of her head, and I tasted the
brown wool of my own scarf. We then
watched as they stuffed the wages bag into a carrier bag, and walked out of the
room.
As we sat there, I felt for Glenda’s fingers and
gripped them, looking at her as she nodded.
We were there for an hour before we were discovered, and the police took
our statements. A week later, Glenda
offered me a promotion to assistant head of HR…
Often, people who are
brought together in these circumstances have the chance to deal with old hurts
and situations, and to clear the air – albeit in silence…
My step-sister and I had, shall we say, not got
along very well. Ever since my father
had married her mother, following the deaths of their partners, it had been
tense. It should to have been – we are
of the same faith, and both seek to serve Allah in our lives – but it was. In the end, it took a masked man to bring us
together.
We were at home on this particular afternoon, me
sitting at the kitchen table as I completed my essay for my course, my sister
in the front room. We were both suitably
and humbly dressed – a light brown hijab was worn by both of us, and I was
wearing a white Fair Isle sweater and blue jeans, the cuffs of the legs turned
up and covering my short black leather ankle boots.
As for my sister, she had on a black blouse over a
roll neck sweater, leggings and knee length black leather boots. She was quiet – which I liked – until the
front doorbell rang.
“Can you get that please,” I called out – our
parents were out, and I wanted to finish the paragraph I was typing. She called something out, and as the ringing
continued I heard her walking towards the front door.
The next thing I heard was her calling out
“SISTER!” in an agitated voice, and as I jumped up and ran into the hallway I
say a man, a mask covering his head so that I could only see his eyes and
mouth, as his gloved hand covered her mouth and he held a gun to her head. He asked if anyone else was in the house, and
when I shook my head he ordered me to go into the front room, and close the
curtains.
I did not want my sister or myself to come to any
harm, so I did as he asked, watching as she was marched in with him. He then told us both to kneel in front of the
couch she had been sitting on, and to put our hands behind our backs. According to him, he needed to “make sure we
didn’t get in his way.”
As we did this, we looked at each other, wondering
what he was going to do. That was
answered when I watched him put her hands together behind her back, and then
use some silver tape to secure her wrists together. It was a strange sound – the ripping and her breathing
– especially as he then used the tape to secure her ankles together, and her
legs around her thighs.
I remember thinking as I watched that the tape
would damage her boots, and then just how stupid a thought that was – he was
making sure we would not be able to move, and I suspected we would not be able
to speak either in a short while. That
was confirmed as he wound the tape tightly round her head, covering her mouth
and silencing her – and I was glad we were both had covered heads, as I
suspected that tape would be very difficult to get off our hair.
He tore the tape from the roll and smoothed it down,
and then she turned her head and watched as I was secured and silenced in the
same way. There was now no way we could
really talk to each other – and that was made even more impossible by the fact
he then made us sit back to back, and wrapped the silver tape round our upper
bodies to hold us together.
When he had finished, we were sitting in front of
the couch, both of us turning our heads and watching as he left the room. The way he had bound us, we could feel each
other’s hand – so, as I heard my sister start to cry, I took hold of her
fingers with mine and tried to tell her it would be all right.
Of course, I could only mumble, but she heard me,
and she gave my hand a squeeze in response.
Such a small, simple thing – and yet it meant so much to both of us, as
we had to listen to the sound of him searching the rooms on the first floor.
He came down a short while later, with one of our
handbags, and stuffed it into his rucksack before he left, leaving us alone,
trying to talk to each other, and each wondering how we would get free.
We were fortunate, however – our father returned
shortly after, saw and released us, and then called the police. And the first thing my sister did when we
were both free and able to stand? She
hugged me, and thanked me for keeping her calm…
Our first tale
showed how, even in these circumstances, a relationship can be started. But it can also be strengthened, as the last
tale showed – and this one also reveals…
We had been out for a Valentine’s meal, Anna and
I. I was wearing her favourite outfit –
my sheer red see-through blouse over a black bra, the short black pleated
skirt, and red suede ankle boots with a platform soul and heel. Anna is older than me, and the senior partner
in our relationship, so she was dressed in black – a short black sleeveless
dress with a silver stripe at the front, and knee length black fabric boots,
which also had a platform soul and heel.
We had already been out for a meal, and then went
to a nightclub, but there was something about my partner that just seemed –
off. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly
what it was, but she had something on her mind, and I was determined to find
out what it was.
So when she said she was going to the restroom, and
walked across the dancefloor, I followed her a moment later – just in time to
see someone drag her out through a side door.
I shouted and followed her – and that was when everything went black.
When I started to open my eyes, I had a thumping
headache, and my mouth was as dry as a desert – and it felt as if I had
swallowed some cotton wool. It took me a
moment to focus, as I wondered why I was so stiff, and why I heard a moaning
noise when I tried to move my arms – and then I saw her face in front of me,
and the fear in her eyes – as well as the passion when I tried to move
again. She had a black scarf tied
between her lips, and I could see from the way her cheeks were puffed out it
was keeping something in her mouth behind it.
Which would explain the way my mouth was feeling as well, and why I
could not speak…
We were lying on some sort of mattress, with our
arms wrapped round each other – and as I looked over her shoulder, I saw the
ropes that were holding us together, round our chests, waists, and legs. My wrists were crossed and tied together
behind her back with rope – and I could see they were also attached to another
rope, that seemed to go between her legs…
I then felt something rubbing between my own legs,
and as I groaned out I moved my hands as well – which made her groan, and I
realised not only were her wrists tied behind my back, but what they were
attached to, and what mine were attached to…
I could also see her ankles, as securely tied as
the rest of us, were pulled to the side and secured to whatever this mattress
was lying on, and I suspected mine were the same. As it was, we were very closely bound, and
our chests rubbed together – which, along with, shall we say, the additional
stimulation meant I was feeling rather giddy.
She was looking at me, and then very slowly started
to move her wrists up and down behind me.
Well, you can imagine how that made me feel, so I returned the favour as
we slowly started to arouse each other – a fact added to as we kissed, both on
the lips and each other’s neck as best we could.
Eventually, however, the inevitable happened and I
started to shake, my partner doing the same as we both called out in the most extreme
pleasure. We looked at each other,
before I reached up and started to try and ease the scarf out from between her
lips.
It took time, but eventually I was able to ease to
out, and I watched as she used her tongue to force out a – well, it was my panties! I knew what was in my mouth, as she said “I’m
sorry – they kidnapped me, and then snatched you. I had to watch as they knocked you out, and
then…”
I nodded as she said “I need to say something to
you – and perhaps it’s best you cannot shout out yet.” Looking into my eyes, she smiled and then
gently kissed my lips, before she said four very simple words.
“Will you marry me?”
I stared at her, and then slowly nodded – as we
heard shouting, and then the door was thrown open.
“In here!”
We both turned and looked at the police officers,
as she said “oh thank god,” and then looked at me with love filled eyes…
The happy couple
were wed several weeks later. Of course,
sometimes when this happens to people, it can be rather – less serious…
“Well, that’s another fine mess you’ve got me into,
Estelle?”
“Oh I’m to blame am I Olivia,” I said as I looked
at her. She nodded – and then we both
burst out laughing as they but the electric toothbrushes to our feet…
Perhaps I should backtrack – Olivia and I are twin
sisters, and live together in our house.
On this particular evening, we had our nieces Angela and Abigail staying
over – and as it was a girly night in, we were all dressed in nightwear. I was wearing a yellow onesie with black
polka dots, while Olivia had on a pink one with the same pattern. As for the girls, they were wearing animal
onesies – Angela a sheep one, and Abigail a cow one.
Anyway, girly night in – pizza, drinks and bad
movies, and then we moved on to play Spin the Bottle, which might have been a
mistake. When it pointed to Olivia, she
said dare – and that was where we made our big mistake, when the girls said
they could make us laugh, and we would not be able to stop them. She just looked at me and said “do we accept
the dare?” – and yeah, I was the one who said yes.
How was I to know they would then tell us to lie on
the floor, and used some lengths of cord to tie our wrists behind our back, and
our ankles together? How was I to know
they would then go to the bathroom, and return with their electric
toothbrushes? And how the heck was I
meant to know they would then turn them no and run them over the soles of our
feet?
So yes, they did succeed in making us laugh and not
been able to stop them…
Finally, a tale of
a mother-daughter love, and how it meant they could be there for each other…
I walked down the street, listening to my music as
we went along, and looking forward to spending some time with mum that
afternoon. My grey nylon jacket was
open, allowing the warm air to go over me, and covering the black blouse I was
wearing. My old jeans were very
comfortable, as were my white baseball boots.
Anyway – I smiled as I walked up to the front door of
the house I grew up in, opened it, walked into the front room – and said “Oh
shit…”
Mum was sitting on one of the chairs from the
dining table, wearing a short sleeved white t-shirt, jeans and brown suede
ankle boots – but her arms were round the chair back, and I could see that her
ankles were tied to the legs of the chair with white rope. Bands of rope also held her legs to the chair
legs, where they met the seat, and around her chest and waist as well as she
looked at me.
“Hi,” she said with a sigh, “I’m really sorry love,
but…”
“Who did this to you,” I said as I walked over, and
looked at the knots. They were small,
but tight and complex. Very complex…
“Oh – I see you have a visitor.”
I turned suddenly to see a young woman in the
doorway, wearing a black leather jacket and leggings. “Who are you,” I said as I stood up, “and why
have you done this to my mother?”
“To keep her out of the way while I robbed her,”
she said as she took a flick knife out and opened it, looking at me as she said
“and I guess I need to make sure you stay with her and don’t raise the alarm until
I’m long gone. Take one of the chairs
rom the table, and sit next to her, with your hands on your head.”
“Do as she says, dear,” Mum said, and I didn’t want
her to be hurt, so I took a second chair and set it next to her, sitting with
my hands on my head as she picked up the rest of a coil of rope, cut a long
length off, and started to tie my chest and back to the chair.
“So what happens when you’ve finished,” I asked as
she pulled me firmly into place, and secured me to the chair, before she cut
some more lengths of rope off, and secured my legs and ankles to the front legs
of the chair.
“I keep you both quiet,” was all she said as she
took my arms down and around the chair back, and I felt the rope on my wrists
as she tied them tightly together, then to the chair back. I tried to move them, but Mum said “don’t
bother – you won’t be able to. It’s best
just to let her do what she’s doing – things can always be replaced.”
“Quite right,” the girl said as she looked at both
of us, and then left, returning with a roll of sticking plaster and a pair of
my mother’s ankle socks. She balled them
individually up, and then said “you both need to be quiet now – open wide.”
“You can’t be…”
“She is,” Mum said, and then she allowed the girl
to push one of the socks into her mouth, and then to cover her lips with a long
strip of the plaster. She then did the
same to me, both of us looking at each other as she turned the television on.
“I’m sure someone will come soon,” she said as she
left the house, and we had to watch as The Sound of Music started. I watched Julie Andrews as she ran up the
hill, and…
“Thhllslrlffwfthsndfmssc.”
I looked at Mum, who winked at me as she started to
sing along. Well, that made me laugh,
and then I joined in, as we mumbled along to the songs. It was as the film ended that the police came
in…
That’s all from In
Their Own Words for this week – until next time…
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