Waiting for Janet
Well, from what I can see in the mirror, I make a fairly passable attempt at a sausage like this. I’d say something, if it wasn’t for the bitch in brown sitting opposite me with a big grin fixed on her mouth, and the stuffing in my mouth that’s making it impossible to do anything except grunt through my nose. The rope is cutting into my wrists, but they way they are fixed together behind my back, as well as to the ropes around my arms and chest, mean I can’t do anything to relieve the pain. My arms are stiff, and the coils that encircle my top and gullet hold them firmly in place, as do the ropes around my legs. There are coils clearly visible against my ankles and below my knees, the creases in my tan suede boots showing, as well as over my grey leggings above my knees. Yup, a sausage just about describes it...
At any rate, that little lady opposite me seems to be enjoying my predicament. Well, she would – she was one of the ones that got me in this position, her and her three friends. They burst in about an hour ago, just as Cassie and Betty were about to leave for their party. Instead, they... She just stood up and looked round me, checking all the knots and tugging to make sure I felt it, before sitting back down and playing with the gun she has on her person. Like I said, not a lot I can do except sit, and try to figure out what exactly happened.
So, an hour or so ago, I’m standing in our hallway chatting with my twin daughters. Not identical twins, mind you, but the same birthday and everything. Cassie takes after me – fuller body, wavy brown hair and a love of scarves. She’s wearing a long sleeved white top with a v-necked lilac sweater over it, a pair of denim shorts and thick black leggings, with black Ugg boots over her feet. She’d just tied a thick woollen scarf around her neck, and was waiting for Betty to come down the staircase.
As for Betty – she takes more after her father, as in she’s blonde, blue eyed and thin as a rake. The metallic style top she’s wearing sticks to her upper body like a sheath, and the red leather skirt she’s wearing creaks every time she moves, but she manages to pull it off somehow, despite the glasses she needs to wear.
Where was I? Oh yeah – they were about to go out to a party when the door bell rang. I’d been expecting a delivery which was running late, so like a fool I opened the door and...
I can hear them upstairs now, the other two little madams, throwing things on the floor while they’re doubtless looking for things to take. Miss Brown over there lifts her wrist to her masked face as if she’s looking at a watch, but it’s not as if she’s been impatient.
Where was I? Oh yeah – I opened the door and these three barged in. As well as the little bitch over there, two other women came in, one dressed in black and one in green. Apart from the colour, they were all identical – sweaters, pants with legs tucked into short boots, gloves and balaclavas over their faces, and guns in their hands. The one in Green also had a large holdall, which she carried into the front room as the other two hustled the three of us inside. Once there, the one in black closed the curtains while Miss Brown made us all kneel down on the floor and put our hands behind our heads.
I looked over at the girls, wondering what was going to happen, when Miss Green opened the bag and pulled out three white washcloths. I have to admit I stared at them, wondering what they were going to do with them, when I felt my hair been pulled sharply behind me. I opened my mouth to complain, but before a single word could come out she had pushed one of the clothes into my mouth, the edges sticking out as I tasted the cotton. The same thing happened to Betty and Cassie, before Miss Black told me to being my hands round and threw something at me.
It was a bandage, like the one I had strapped round my thigh after I had that accident at Aerobics class. Anyway, Miss Black told me to start wrapping it round my mouth and jaw, to “keep my f**ing mouth quiet” as she put it. Well, the language was stronger, but that’s not important. What was important was Miss Brown put her gun to the back of Cassie’s head, and said she would pull the trigger if I didn’t start.
Well, what choice did I have? I loosened the end, placed it next to my cheek and started to wrap the bandage round. Keeping it tight more out of fear than anything else, so that my cheeks bulged as I passed it round again and again. Eventually, I came to the end, and Miss Brown took that end and taped it in place. Miss Black then told me to shuffle round so that I was behind “the young bitch on your left.”
I could hear the suede of my boots squeaking on the carpet as I moved behind Cassie, guessing what might be coming next. As I had suspected, a second bandage was thrown to Miss Brown, who gave it to me and told me to do exactly the same thing to Cassie. I had no choice, and mumbled “sre” as I started to...
The telephone’s ringing, and Miss Brown stands up and puts her finger to her mouth. The thumping upstairs ahs stopped as well as we listen to the answering machine kick in.
“Cassie? Betty? Girls, if you’re there pick up the phone – you’re not at the party and I’ve got some wonderful news for you!”
I recognised the caller as Janet, a friend of the girls from college, and wonder why she’s ringing here.
“Oh come on you two – I want to tell you before I tell anyone else – listen, I’m coming round, give me half an hour and then I’ll tell you everything. Kisses!”
As the phone goes dead, I hear the thumping start again, and hope to god they’re out of here before she arrives. At least we don’t have long to wait, and as Miss Brown stands up and walks to the doorway I try to remember what else happened...
After I had secured the bandage around Cassie’s mouth, I thought they were going to make me do the same thing to Betty. I was horrified when I saw Miss Green take a set of handcuffs out of that bag, and throw them to Miss Brown who caught them before handing them to me. “Cuff her,” Miss Black said, and Cassie actually whimpered as I helped her to put her hands behind her back and fastened the steel rings around her wrists. Only then did Miss Black nudge me to move over, and repeat the process on Betty, the tears streaming down her face as I did so.
As the metal click resonated around the silent room, I was forced to my feet and marched round to face the girls. As I was walked round, I could see Miss Green unravelling a length of rope, and knew what was coming next as I was turned round and saw both of my daughters. Tears were coming out of Betty’s eyes, but Cassie looked more angry than anything.
Anyway, my own arms were pulled behind my back and I felt them been drawn together by the rope as Miss Brown bound them. Fortunately I was wearing a long sleeved jumper under the gillet, but even so the rope was tightly constricting my wrists, and I balled my hands up to stop the pain as they were pulled together. Even worse, I then felt my elbows been pulled together, and as my arms were pulled back my chest strained against the thick woollen fabric.
As I saw the longest length of rope I had ever seen taken in front of my face and around my chest by Miss Brown, Cassie and Betty were forced to stand up by the other two. “We’ll take care of them,” I heard Miss Black say as they were marched, screaming through their gags, out of the room and up the staircase. For my own part, I could feel my arms been pulled tightly into my side as the rope went round my chest, above and below my breasts, so that the strain against the fabric of my top was more than I had felt in my youth when I used to wear much tighter clothes.
I just glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece – ten minutes have passed, and Miss Brown hasn’t moved at all. The thumping has stopped, and I can hear muted voices upstairs, so hopefully they’ll be on their way soon.
Anyway – once she had tied my wrists so that they were fixed to the ropes around my chest, Miss Brown here made me sit on the couch, and after shaking out yet another length of rope she knelt at my feet. Looking at me as if she was daring me to do something, she passed the rope around my ankles and pulled them together. I still had my boots on after coming in from the boutique, with the cuffs that slightly covered my knees, so I silently thanked myself for that as my ankles were pulled together more and more tightly. At least the leather offered some protection, even if they squeaked as the rope went between my legs and was tied off. A second loop around my calves below my knees made sure my legs were even more tightly secured, as did the one over my thighs and my leggings. Eventually the Brown Bomber bitch stood up, checked each knot again, and then sat down in front of me.
I moved myself around a bit, more out of curiosity then any hope, however faint, of getting loose, but the squeak of leather and cotton was all that produced. I then sat still for a while, trying to hear if the girls were all right, but so far there hasn’t been any sound from them.
I just looked at the clock again, and fifteen minutes have passed since the call, but there still seems to be no movement. In fact, Miss Brown over there just keeps checking her watch, as if she’s waiting for something to happen...
The next thing I hear is some muffled screaming – well, it’s loud and does not sound nice, as the footsteps on the staircase herald the return of Misses Green and Black. They both walk in, dumping a couple of pillowcases on the table, as Miss Brown goes over to join them, and they start talking together in low whispers. I sit still, trying to hear what they say as the clock chimes to show another five minutes have passed – which mean we should only have ten minutes for them to get out and Janet to come and rescue us.
If only they’d put their ill gotten gains into that bag and just leave...
As they keep talking, I wonder just what the other two have done to my girls. If they’re have as securely bound as I am, then I’m not surprised they can’t talk or move, but I didn’t see either of them take any rope up – so what the hell did they use? Anyway, the time is ticking away, and hopefully they’ll be on their way soon. After all, they don’t want to be caught by Janet – from what I heard Betty say of her, she’s a martial arts master and her father is something very highly placed in....
Oh shit. Miss Green has just started to open the bag again, and she’s taking out more coils of rope, unravelling them and folding them neatly on the table. There’s also another cloth, and two bandages this time. As she continues to lay them out, Miss Brown just turns and smiles at me, as the sickening feeling that is growing in my stomach tells me that they have no intention of leaving – not before Janet gets there, at any rate. What the hell was it Betty said her father did – something in banking, or...?
The front doorbell rings, and the three women move as one. Miss Brown picks up her gun and comes to stand behind me, the cold metal pressed against my temple. Miss Green stands behind the door, a length of rope taut between her gloved hands, while Miss Black goes to open the door.
The next few minutes seem to pass like a blur. I hear someone say “Who the hell are...” before Janet or who I presume is her, is pushed into the room and forced to lie face down on the floor. She’s a tall girl, in her early twenties by the looks of things, and wearing a black leather jacket over a turquoise short sleeved top that comes over her crotch. Her leggings are cotton, with a multicoloured swirl pattern, while a pair of knee length leather boots covers her lower legs. She barely has time to glance up at me before the cloth is stuffed in her mouth, and as Miss Green binds her wrists and arms Miss Black continues to gag and blindfold her. Miss Brown calmly takes the gun away from my temple, walks over and begins to pack the pillowcases and other items into the holdall, as the other two force Janet to stand on her feet. They start to frog march her out of the room as Miss Brown picks up the bag, turns and waves at me, and then follows them out, turning off the lights as they go.
I sit still, listening for any sign that they may still be there, but it’s only silence. The only sound I can barely hear is some moaning from upstairs, and I wonder how long it is possible to sit there and bear the fact that my babies are...
Actually, who am I kidding? I have to do something, so I slowly try to push myself onto my feet, eventually succeeding as I stand still for a few minutes to get my balance. After a while, I try shuffling along, but my legs are too well secured, so instead I start taking little bunny hops, stopping each time to get my balance before I move another short distance.
It seems to take forever, but eventually I manage to reach the doorway and rest my body against the wall. I can feel the sweat under my armpits, and my socks are starting to feel damp, but I press on, taking short hops until I manage to reach the bottom of the staircase. Allowing myself to sit down, my legs complain as the ropes tighten in my seated position, but I ignore that and put the soles of me boots firmly on the bottom step. Pushing hard, I mange to slide my bottom up one step, and move my feet onto the next step.
As I repeat the process again and again, I can hear a muted call getting louder. As I reach the turn in the stairs and look over to my left, I realise where the noise is coming from. Cassie is sitting on the hallway landing, her wrists pulled above her head and the handcuffs secured to a door handle by a pair of stockings. Her ankles have also been bound together with a pair of stacking, and secured to the railing, while her legs are bound together above and below her knees with more pairs. Her boots are on the floor next to her, and the mascara stains on her cheeks are black and streaked.
It takes what seems like an eternity, but eventually I reach the top of the stairs and scoot on my bum over to Cassie, placing my head on her shoulder to show her I understood. Looking at her, I realise she’s motioning with her head towards the bathroom, the door of which is ajar. I try to say “Is Betty in there?” but all that comes out is a mumbling. Cassie seems to understand, however, as she nods and motions that I should go in there. Pushing myself up against the wall, I start to shuffle again towards the door, and once again I can hear muffled noises from inside.
It’s a good thing I’m standing as well, otherwise I’d never have seen Betty, just heard her skirt squeaking on the enamel as she sat in the bath. Her wrists were held to the shower bar bay strip of towelling, which had been cut from one of the large bath towels in the room. Similar strips were around her ankles and legs as she looked up at me with her pleading eyes. Turning myself round, I sit myself gingerly at the edge of the bath, as close as I can to her, and urge her to try and sit up and move her head closer to mine. Eventually she does so, and I start to try and pull at the bandage around her mouth, hoping and praying...
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