Boys Will Be Girls – Together
“Now, can I trust you two to play quietly in here,” Karen’s mother said as she looked at her two children.
“Yes, we’ll be good,” the thirteen year old girl said as her ten year old brother nodded. Karen was wearing a white summer dress with a light blue check, held up by a thin string halter neck and with a short, tiered skirt. Tommy, her brother, was wearing a white t-shirt and shorts.
“Good,” their mother said as she left them and closed the door, Tommy grinning as he said “can we play our special game now?”
“Sure, Lady Penelope,” Karen said as she opened a cupboard door, and took out a light blue petticoat dress with two buttons on a band at the front. As she did so, Tommy stripped out of the t-shirt and shorts, before he allowed his sister to put the dress on him. He then sat down and put on a pair of white low heeled shoes over his white sock covered feet, and a pair of white lace gloves on his hands, before finishing his outfit with a white floral effect hat.
“Very nice, Your Ladyship,” Karen said with a smile, “allow me to introduce our guests for today – Miss Barbara and Miss Cindy.”
“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Tommy said, “I am Lady Thomasina, and it is my pleasure to…”
“And what do we have here?”
Karen turned suddenly to see a young man, a stranger, standing at the door to the room. He was tall, and dressed in black – but she could also see the lengths of rope in his hands.
“Who are you,” Thomasina said as she looked over.
“Me? I am the bad robber who has come to steal your nice things,” the man said, “and that means I have to make sure you two fine ladies cannot raise the alarm or call for help. So, I want you both to turn round, and put your hands behind your back. I promise you, I will not hurt you.”
“You will do me first,” Thomasina said as he slowly turned and put his hands behind his back, Karen watching as the man swiftly bound his wrists tightly together. He then walked round and made sure Karen’s wrists were firmly tied together behind her back, before he said “all right – both of you, sit against the wall and stretch your legs out.”
“”Do you think Mother is all right,” Thomasina said as he sat down.
“Your mother is talking to my friend – she’ll be fine,” the man said as he knelt down and put Thomasina’s ankles together, before binding them with cord as well, and then he did the same to Karen. Standing up, he pulled form a pocket a white scarf and rolled it into a band, before he said to Karen “you first – open your mouth, and then bite down when I have tied this round your head.”
“Okay,” she whispered as she allowed the man to gag her with the rolled up scarf, Thomasina watching as the corners of his sister’s mouth were pulled back while he secured the ends at the base of her neck. He then opened his own mouth, tasting the silk as a second rolled up scarf was pulled between his own lips and then round his head before he closed his mouth over it.
“Now don’t move,” the man said as he left the room, Karen and Thomasina looking at each other as they heard footsteps and talking – and then the front door opening and closing.
“Whtdhwhdh,” Thomasina said as he looked at Karen – and then they both heard the shuffling noise outside, before the door opened and their mother came in backwards. She turned herself round and looked at them, the scarf in her mouth darker at the corners of her mouth, as Thomasina blushed…
Watch with Mother
Sally came out of the kitchen and looked at her two sons standing in the hallway. Both were wearing grey blazers and shorts, with a white shirt and blue and black striped tie under the collar of the shirt, grey socks and black shoes. Stephen was eight years old, with light brown hair cut in the same style as Peter Noone, while his six year old brother Geoff had darker brown hair.
She dried her hands and looked at both of them. Sally was wearing a white sundress, as she said “so, do either of you have any homework today?”
“No Mum,” Geoff said with a smile, “we have no homework tonight.”
“All right then – take your satchels upstairs and change, and I’ll get a snack ready.”
“Okay Mum,” Stephen said as they both picked up their leather schoolbags and headed up the stairs, Sally shaking her head as she went back into the kitchen. She put two glasses on a tray, and poured orange squash and water into them, and then put some biscuits on a plate, before she suddenly stopped and looked straight ahead.
“We’re ready. Mum,” Stephen said as he came down the stairs, Geoff following him as they walked into the front room – and then stood still.
“Boys,” Sally said quietly as she looked at them, “I want you to sit either side of me, and do what this man tells you to do.”
“And what do we have here – boys or girls?” The man was short, with greying hair and a slight paunch under his black jumper – but he also had a knife which he had against their mother’s throat.
“Don’t hurt our mum,” Stephen said quietly as he stood there. He had changed into a floral print dress, with white collar, hem and cuffs, while Geoff was wearing a yellow dress with cap sleeves, the top half with panels like a jacket. Both boys were also wearing white bobby socks and shoes.
“Then do what I tell you kid,” the man said quietly, “sit either side of her, and put your hands together in front of yourselves.”
Stephen looked at his younger brother, and said “do as he says” before he sat on the left side of Sally, Geoff sitting on the other side. They could see that her wrists were tied together with brown twine, which had been taken down and wrapped round her legs above her knees, and then down to her ankles.
“Oldest first,” the man said as he stood in front of Stephen, “hold your hands up.”
“Okay,” Stephen said quietly as he held his hands up, palm to palm, and watched as the man took a roll of brown twine from his pocket and wrapped it tightly around and between his arms. He then lowered Stephen’s hands and wrapped the twine round his legs above his knees, and then knelt as he tied his ankles together before cutting the twine with his knife.
He then moved over as Geoff slowly raised his hands, the man smiling as he made sure he was as tightly bound as his brother, the twine digging into the bare flesh of his wrists and legs.
“Who is he Mum,” Stephen whispered.
“An escaped prisoner – if we let him do this, he’s going to take a shower, and take some of your father’s clothes, and then leave us alone.”
He nodded as the man stood up, and then turned the television on, turning the sound up as The Herbs started.
“Don’t move,” he growled as he left them, the curtains drawn over the windows.
“Mum, I’m scared,” Geoff said quietly.
“I know – so am I, but we need to be brave together,” Sally said as she looked at them, their bound legs dangling over the edge of the couch.
A while later, the man came back, wearing a change of clothing and with three socks in his hand.
“What are they for,” Sally asked.
“this,” he said as one by one he balled up a sock up pushed them into their mouths, leaving them as he took the money from her purse and walked out of the room…
The Tea Party
“Where shall I sit,” Philippa said as she stood in the centre of the room. Her dress was made of silk, a dark olive colour with a hexagonal print. The short sleeves had a thin white trim, as did the collar, and there were lace panels at the sides of the flowing skirt. Knee length white socks, black slippers, and a large straw hat with flowers round the rim completed the outfit.
“Next to your mother,” the woman said as she indicated a wooden chair, As Philippa sat, she put her ankles together and to the side, sitting as she looked at her mother. She was wearing a red slip dress and heels, and smiled as the woman took from a large handbag a length of white rope.
“Put your arms through the back of the chair,” she said, Philippa nodding as she did that, and then watched the woman walk behind the chair. She could feel the rope as she bound her wrists tightly together, and then secured them to a rod in the chair back. She then saw more rope as it was passed round her waist, pulling her against the chair back before it went round again and again, securing her in place and her arms to their sides.
“Are you all right, Mother,” Philippa said as she looked to the side, her mother nodding in reply. She had long blonde hair, unlike Philippa’s long dark hair.
The woman then went back to the handbag, and removed two more lengths of the white rope. Kneeling in front of Philippa, she bound her ankles together, the rope going round and between her legs and over the white socks, before she made sure they were also secured to the front leg of the chair. As she folded the skirt of Philippa’s dress back and began to bind her legs together below her knees, she looked again at her mother – bound to the chair in the same way, and with the red chiffon scarf that had been round her neck now pulled between her lips, the red band round her head.
Her mother nodded as the woman stood up, and walked behind Philippa. She nodded as she saw the rolled up brown silk scarf, and said “do you have to do this?”
“Oh yes – open your mouth as wide as you can.”
Philippa knew she had no choice, as she opened her mouth and felt the silk on her tongue as it was pulled into the space. Closing her lips over it, she felt the pressure on her cheeks as the band was tied tightly round her head, allowing her only to mumble as the woman stepped back.
“Very nice – enjoy your tea, Ladies,” she laughed as she saw the teacups and pot on the low table. Philippa and her mother looked at each other – this was meant to have been a private time for both of them, when they could let their true personalities out, and not be Philip and his father…
My memories of Sundays at my gran’s house always followed a very similar pattern. We would go to Chapel in the morning, and then my parents would leave me with gran while they went on to whatever it was they were doing that day.
My gran was great – in her early sixties at the time, usually wearing a white coat dress and an apron over her skirt. We would have a sandwich, and then it would be time to prepare for the afternoon.
That meant I had to take off whatever clothes I was wearing, and then stand there in my underpants while Gran fetched the outfit of the day. The day I am thinking of, that was one of my mother’s old dresses, a white lace one with sleeves that came over the elbows and a wide skirt.
Yes, a dress. I didn’t mind really – I treated it as part of the game we played every Sunday. So I put the dress on, Gran watching as I did so, and then slipped on the white shoes she had brought as well.
She nodded – and then she passed the band of white cloth round my head, covering my mouth as she secured the ends at the base of my neck. You see, my Gran was famous – Rebecca Holding, the writer of the Penny Parker Junior Detective stories, and I was the model for some of the scenes in those books, usually when she was held captive.
Once she had gagged me, she took a strip of white cloth, and took my hands behind my back, using the cloth to secure my wrists together while I watched the television. IT was Sunday afternoon on BBC12, so it was an old Ealing comedy – Passport to Pimlico I think.
Anyway, this time I was being held captive while a gang robbed the house – so I sat on the couch and watched as she used another band of cloth to tie my ankles together, before she left me to watch the film while she sketched me – and then went to write an outline for that part of the book.
Only – well, that was not what happened that day. Oh it started like that – I smiled under the cloth as she did a sketch, and then walked out of the room. Only she didn’t come back when I expected her to. In fact, the film had finished, and I had to sit through another program before she jumped in.
Yes, jumped. She also had a band of white cloth covering her mouth and tied round her head, and her hands were behind her back, while I could also see the band of cloth round her ankles.
She sat next to me and rubbed my head with hers, before we both watched the television. It was only when my father called to collect me that we were released – and she told me about the man who had robbed her while I was waiting…
“That was your father,” Deborah said as she came into the room, “he sends you all his love, and he looks forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“No, not like that Philip,” Deborah said with a smile as she looked at her seven year old son. He had short blonde hair, like his eleven year old sister Abigail, a sister he loved and adored.
She had a dark green ribbon tied in a bow in her hair, and was wearing a summer dress – white with a green trim and two bows on the front, held up with thin white bands over her shoulders and with a flowing skirt that came to just above her knees. She was also wearing flat green slippers.
Philip’s dress was similar, with orange bows and trim, while his hair was pulled back and an orange bow tied in that as well. He was wearing orange shoes with white socks, and the biggest smile on his face. When his father was away on business, Deborah allowed him to be just like his sister in every way.
Their mother was wearing a pale yellow jacket and matching skirt, with matching heels, and smiled as she looked at them playing with each other. Standing up, she left the room – and then stopped as the leather gloved hand was pressed firmly over her mouth…
“Well now, what do we have here?”
Both Abigail and Philip looked over to see a thin man standing in the doorway, wearing a blue boiler suit and something over his head so they could only see his eyes and mouth.
“who are you?”
“Me? I’m the man who has to make sure you two young ladies can’t move or speak,” he said as he walked in, Philip seeing the leather bag in his hand.
“Where’s our mother?”
“With my friend,” the man said as he put the bag on a chair. “Now, do was I say – kneel in front of the long seat, both of you, and put your hands behind your back.”
“Do as he says Philip,” Abigail whispered, her brother nodding as they both knelt down. He looked over his shoulder as the man took from the bag two lengths of thin white cord, and then knelt behind them, before he took Abigail’s wrists behind her back and started to bind them together with one of the lengths.
“Does it hurt,” Philip whispered, Abigail shaking her head before he felt the man taking his own hands behind his back, and then the cords as it was pulled tightly round them. He felt the man take the rope around and between his wrists, and then one final tug as the rope was secured. He tried to move his arms, but could not as he heard the man walk away and then come back.
He was surprised to feel his ankles being forced together, and looked back to see the man was binding them together with more white cord as well. He saw the man take the rope between his legs, and then tie the ends off, before he moved to the side and did the same thing to Abigail.
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
“So am I,” Abigail said in reply, “but we can do this together, all right?”
Philip nodded as the man then made them sit back to back. He felt Abigail take hold of his fingers and smiled as the reassuring touch, before he saw the man kneeling by his side, and then the long rope as it was passed round both of them, at their waists and then round their upper arms and body, holding them together and unable to really move.
“Where’s our mother?”
“Safe,” Philip heard the man say in reply to Abigail, an then he heard a funny peeling sound, before Abigail fell silent.
“Dhtnehrreee,” he heard Abigail say in a strange, muffled way before he saw the man next to him, peeling a length of sticking plaster away from the roll. He then felt the adhesive on his skin as the man pressed it over his mouth with his gloved hand, and realised what had happened to Abigail as he stood up.
“Now, don’t move, and you’ll be fine,” he said as he left the room. They could hear movement, talking, but as he felt his sister’s hand on his, Philip knew he was with the person he wanted to be with…
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