Generations – Family Honour







The Daughter


Honouring our elders is an important part of our society, so when it was my grandmother’s sixty fifth birthday my mother had arranged to take her out for the day, while I prepared a meal at our family home.  Sadly, my father and grandfather had both passed away, so it was only going to be the three of us – but we were family, and we were together, and that was what was important.


I had the meal prepared, and was looking out of the window for their arrival with anticipation.  For the evening, I was smartly if casually dressed – a black sweater, short grey herringbone skirt, black leggings and my over the knee black leather boots.  A sliver necklace with a diamond pendant was around my neck, and I had my ring on my finger – a surprise to tell my mother and grandmother about when they noticed.


But, as I say, I was awaiting their arrival – only I have to say with regret they were not the first people to come into the house and greet me that night.  I heard the noise coming from the kitchen, and wondered what had caused it as I left the front room and walked in – only to be grabbed from behind and a leather gloved hand to be put over my mouth as I tried to process what I was seeing.


There were three women in the kitchen, smartly dressed in black jackets and skirts, with white blouses, dark tights and soft leather black heels – but they also had leather gloves on their hands, and dark glasses on.  One of them, a dark skinned woman with reddish hair, looked at me and smiled – then she raised a gun and told me to put my hands on my head, and walk back into the front room.


Obviously, this was some sort of robbery – but I was still surprised to see three women performing the act, and she had a gun, so I complied, placing my hands palm down on top of my head and then walking slowly into the front room, the three women following.  The one with the gun spoke with a West Indian accent, but she was most persuasive.


As we walked in, the second woman put a large bag on the floor.  She was smaller, more slender with light brown hair, and spoke with an American accent as she asked me if anyone else was in the house.  I shook my head, but I had to be honest, so I said that although I as alone for now, I was expecting my mother and grandmother to arrive soon.


I thought that might make them leave, but instead the third woman, a blonde, nodded as she said they knew – and they were ready for them, but first they had to ensure I could not alert them to their presence.  I was then told to sit down on the couch, and put my heels up on the coffee table, crossing my ankles as I did so.


I knew what the implications of what they were saying was, but I had no choice, save to watch with my hands still on my head and watch as the Burnette took from the bag a length of white rope, doubled it over and then wrapped it round my crossed ankles, taking the ends through the middle and then pulling back so that they were forced together.


She worked quickly, wrapping the rope around my ankles in neat coils, and then taking them under the last band before she separated the ends and took them between my legs, making the binding even tighter before she secured the ends together and tucked them into the ropes.


I then watched as she used a second length of rope to secure my legs together below my knees, the rope rubbing on my boots as she wound it round.  It was fascinating to watch her immobilise my legs, taking so much of my attention I barely noticed as my arms were taken behind my back by the blonde, and my wrists were secured in the same way as my ankles.


I only became aware as the ropes were tied off at my legs, an di felt my jumper been pulled against my body – the blonde was now tying a much longer length of rope around my upper body, below and above my chest, forcing my arms against my sides so that I truly could not move.  I did try to wriggle round, but she was strong, so I had no choice but to wait as she completed immobilising me.


And when they were done, I was truly unable to move very much – if I tried to move my legs, it was as if they were fused together, the only sound the soft squeak of leather on leather.  As for my arms, that was useless – especially when they used two smaller lengths to tighten the bands between my arms and my body.


They had been calm, soft spoken, collected, and treated me with dignity – until the point where I saw the dark skinned woman folding a large blue and gold headscarf into a pad, and she told me to open my mouth and allow her to push that in.


I shook my head then, but I explained I had a reason – I suffer from Asthma, and as such did not want anything in my mouth that could prevent me breathing.  The three women looked at each other, before she shook the scarf out, rolling it instead into a thick band as she told me to open my mouth now.


As I did, she pulled the scarf between my lips, the soft silk pressing down on my tongue as I closed my lips over it, and she tied it round my head, the brunette lifting my hair out of the way as she did so.  I was grateful they had done that – I knew they had to try to silence me, but I was afraid of what might happen if I genuinely was not able to breathe in and out through my mouth.


The redhead then took my legs and swung them round, the blonde moving my head so that I was lying along the couch, my head resting on the armrest – just as the lights shone through the curtains, and I knew I was not going to be alone for much longer…



The Mother


“Well, I have had a good day,” my mother said as I parked the car, and turned the engine off, “so what awaits me for this evening?”


I smiled and looked at her, saying “it is a surprise mother, shall we go in?”  She nodded as we both got out of the car and I wrapped my coat round myself.  My coat was purple, and I was wearing it over a brown patterned dress with short sleeves, and a large bow at the front under the neckline.  The dress had a pleated knee length skirt, while my lower legs were in a pair of knee length brown laced boots, with a suede leg and leather front and sole.


As for my mother – well, turning sixty five did seem to have liberated her to be herself, and if truth be told she was dressed more like my own daughter then me – her hair was also dyed red as opposed to our natural black.


At any rate, I opened the door and we walked in, my mother waiting as I closed the door behind myself and took my coat off.  “It’s very quiet,” she said, and she was right – it was quiet, and the reason it was quiet became very clear as we entered the main room.


My daughter was lying on her side on the long seat, her head on the armrest, but she was not able to say much – her lips were closed over a rolled up blue and gold scarf which had been pulled into her mouth and tied round her head, her hair falling over it.


That was not all – There were bands of rope holding her arms to her sides, and her legs together, as she looked at both of us and mumbled “hmssshreee…”  Obviously, something had happened before we retuned – and the other three women who were in the room.  They were in business dress, and wore dark glasses – a dark skinned redhead, a thin brunette and a blonde.


“Did you do this to my daughter,” I said – and my answer was received as the blonde nodded, and then held a gun in her gloved hand as she pointed it at me.


“I did – and I will do the same to you, but first I need to ensure your own mother is comfortable somewhere.  Please, take her from the room.”




“It is all right,” she said as the brunette took her by the arm, a small bag in her hand, “we obviously have to do as they say.  Do not antagonise them.”


I nodded slowly as she was taken out of the room and up the stairs, as the blonde sat down.  “Come with me,” the redhead said as she picked up another bag, and took me by the arm, “I need to discuss a small matter of business with you.”


I really had no choice as I was walked down to the office I maintain to the rear of the house, the woman opening the door and escorting me in before she closed the door behind herself.  I had a computer set up at a desk there, with a seat that had a back support with a cushioned area.


“Sit down,” she said quietly as she indicated the seat, “and put your hands on your head.  I am going to secure your waist to the chair and your legs, and then you will conduct some business for me.”


“What are you going to do to my mother?”


“She will be safe and secure.  Now, do as I ask.”


I did as she asked, watching as she removed from her bag a doubled over length of rope, and wrapped it round my waist, forcing me against the chair support as it pressed on me.  She knotted then rope behind me, an di looked down as she took my legs round wither side of the seat support, putting my ankles together and then using the remaining rope to secure my ankles together.


I could see my toes pointing to the floor as the rope pressed on my ankles, and I knew I was going to be staying in that seat for some time as she stood up and by my side.  “Now then, I want you to log into your accounts, and then you are going to so a transfer of funds for me.  While that takes place, you can also give me the combination to your safe.”


“I have a choice?”


“Indeed you do, you can refuse – and then I ask my friend to have a word with your daughter…”


The threat was implied, but I got the message, as I started to type on the keyboard and logged in, then accessed my accounts.  I was made to transfer a not insubstantial amount to an address I was given, and then told her the combination to the safe, watching as she opened it.


“Thank you,” she said, and I felt she meant it, “but now, I need you to put your arms behind you.”  As I did this, she took more rope from the bag, and tied my wrists tightly together – then ran rope from my wrists to my ankles, so that I could not move them at all.


She then wrapped more rope around my upper arms, forcing them against my sides, so that I was truly immobilised – and then she took a grey scarf out and folded it into a wad, before she told me to open my mouth.


It tasted strange as she pushed it in, making sure the silk was behind my teeth as it pressed down on my tongue, and I closed my lips over it.  She then peeled the backing paper from a strip of brown sticking plaster, and pressed it firmly over my mouth, the strip going from cheek to cheek – but it kept my mouth covered, and effectively silenced me.


I watched as she emptied the contents of the safe – money and jewellery – into her bag, and then looked to the door as the brunette looked in.  The two women then left, and I listened as the doors opened and closed – and then to see if there was any other noise.


Eventually, I heard a noise on the stairs, a regular thumping, and then the sound of someone coming as I looked to the room door…



The Grandmother


Those who speak on European fashion are quite correct – sixty is the new forty, and I personally believe sixty five is the new twenty.


My daughter had taken me out to lunch and a show that afternoon, and we were heading to her place for dinner with my granddaughter, and I was dressed as I wanted to be – a black leather jacket over a white blouse with black polka dots, a red leather short skirt, fishnet stockings and knee length black leather boots, as opposed to my daughter’s brown outfit.  I even had my hair dyed a fiery red – all to advertise the fact I felt young again.


So when we walked into the house, and I saw my granddaughter bound and gagged on the couch, I knew it was going to be a different evening.  The three women seemed to be treating her, and us, with respect, as the brunette one took me by the arm and whispered “come with me, honoured mother, and I will make you comfortable.”




“It is all right,” I said as I looked at my daughter, “we obviously have to do as they say.  Do not antagonise them.”


She nodded as I walked out of the room, whispering to my captor “you show remarkable manners for a westerner.”


“I act, on this occasion, on behalf of one of the Honoured Fathers,” she whispered, and I understood what she meant.  She was on a mission for one of the leaders from home, and I could only obey as we walked into my daughter’s bedroom.


“Please, remove your jacket,” she said as she closed the door, “and then put your hands behind your back.  It will be necessary to ensure that, as much as possible, you stay in this room.”


“I trust you will take due consideration of my age,” I said as she folded my arms behind me, placing my elbows in the palms of my hands, before she used white tape to secure my arms there, and then round my forearms.  I had expected rope, but this was just as tight, and made my hands and fingers useless.


“Well, this will certainly be more comfortable,” I said, and I actually smiled.  You see, I was finding this rather exciting, and I was secretly hoping my daughter and granddaughter did not find out how excited I was feeling.  I watched in the mirror as she round the tape around my upper arms and body, so that there was a white band keeping my upper body secured.


“You are skilled” I said as I sat on the bed, watching as she knelt down and put my ankles together, then wound the tape round them to secure them.  I recognised the tape – from a club I sometimes attend – and was secretly grateful it would not truly damage my boots.  They cost over 500 pounds, after all…


The brunette also wound the tape round my feet to secure them, before she tore it, patted it down, and then taped my legs together below my knees.  “I apologise for the fact you will need new tights,” she said as she then taped my legs together above my knees.


“A small expense, and you show true humility in that.  I presume I am going to be kept quiet as well.”


“Yes, you are, and I need to put something in your mouth.  Do you have any preferences?”


“I am sure you will think of something,” I said with a smile, and watched as she selected a pair of ankle socks from my daughter’s sock drawer, and balled them into a pad.


It tasted of fresh lavender on my tongue as she pushed it into my mouth, the material filling it a sit sat on my tongue and behind my teeth, and then she wrapped the white tape tightly round my head to keep it in before she looked at me. 


“My colleagues will have finished – be of good health, honoured mother.”


I nodded as she left the room, the door slightly ajar as I heard her walk down the stairs.  There was further conversation, and then the sound of the front door opening and closing before there was silence – and the chance to meditate, to reflect on my position.


When I opened my eyes, it was time to take action – so I managed to stand up and hop to the door, the tape crinkling with each jump.  I then pushed the door open and jumped along the corridor, before sitting at the tape and sliding down one step at a time.


When I reached the bottom, I paused and then pushed myself up.  These were obviously professionals, so I knew the first thing to do was to check my daughter – and she would be in her place of work.


Such was indeed the case – they had tied her most effectively to her chair, and her mouth was covered in brown sticking plaster, something obviously underneath.  She looked at me, and nodded to show she was all right, so I turned and made my way back to the front room.


My granddaughter was there, not moving as the radio played, but she looked at me and nodded.  I could see the scarf between her lips was darker, soaking wet, as I jumped over and knelt next to her, then turned round.  If someone was going to call for help, it had to be her, and the way to do that was to try and get the scarf from her mouth.


My hands may be useless, but I still could try and hook a finger under to ease her gag out…









Return to the Relative Perils index


Return to the main index