“Now, you are not going to be any trouble, or raise the alarm, are you dear lady?”


His voice was soft, high-pitched, calm, and had an air that demanded obedience.  But I was damned if I was going to let him tell me what I was going to do – even though he had me with his arm round my body, his free hand over my mouth.


“Lady, you strike me as a peace lover – do you really wish me to do something to you to disturb that peace?”


I had just returned from a weekend away with friends, walked into the house, put my bag down, walked into the front room – and then he grabbed me from behind.  Somehow, my hat was still on my head.  It had been a pseudo-seventies theme, so it was a grey felt hippie hat, with a felt rose on the front of the crown.


My dress was grey as well - lighter at the top than the bottom, with red and green fabric flowers around the chest, coming down to just above my knees.  I also had on grey tights and knee length grey fabric boots with a short heel.


What do you mean – I like grey.  But right now I was still struggling in his grip, feeling the sweat on my body, and I was slowly coming to a simple conclusion.


He was just too strong, and yet he spoke so softly…


I stopped struggling, ad slowly nodded as he said “excellent, my dear – I have no particular wish to harm you, but I do wish to take your valuables – and, as a consequence, I regretfully have to make sure you cannot raise the alarm or stop me.  I am generous, however – give me your word you will not raise the alarm, and I will remove my hand.  Do we have an agreement?”


I nodded again as he released me, but at the same time he said “thank you – do not turn round, but move your hands slowly behind your back.”


I really felt I had no choice – the curtains were drawn, and even though his words were softly spoken, I could sense the steel behind them, so I did as he asked – and then I felt him take my wrists and cross them behind my back, before I felt the rope round them, holding them together as I felt the binding get tighter.


Whoever this man was, he knew what he was doing - as the rope went between my wrists, the bands constricted even more around the cuffs of my sleeves, and I knew I was not going to be able to move them apart.


I felt my long brown hair on my cheek, as I saw more rope – I saw it was white – going around my body above my chest, and then saw it pressing down on the grey wool as it was pulled tighter.  It also forced my arms against my sides – a feeling of restraint that was only increased as the rope went round my body again below my chest this time.


As he made the bands wider, tighter, he spoke of how I looked in my outfit, how much it suited me, how he hoped I had enjoyed my time away.  And all the time that feeling of helplessness was growing in me, as the bands got tighter, the dress stretched over my chest as the roses seemed to sit on top of, between my breasts…


There was a tug behind me as the ropes were tied off, and then I glanced to my side as more rope was wound between my arms and body.  He was tall – taller than me – and dressed like me in grey – a roll neck sweater, pans, shoes, gloves, and stocking pulled down over his head.


What he did made the bands of rope even tighter – on both sides – before he stood in front of me and smiled.  “I trust that is not too uncomfortable,” he said as he looked at me.


To be fair, it was not uncomfortable at all, but it was tight – even with the dress, I could feel the bands pressing on my body.  So I looked at him and said “no it’s not uncomfortable – but why should you care about that?”


“Well, you may be like this for some time,” he said with a smile, before he removed the hat from my head and put it gently on one side.  “Now – I need you to sit down on one end of the couch, then stretch your legs out along it.”




“So I may make sure you cannot get back off the couch.  Please, my dear, do as I say…”


I nodded as I slowly walked over and sat on one end of the three seater couch, and then turned and put my legs along the seat, watching as he reached into a large bag and took out two more lengths of rope.  He walked over, kneeling and placing one of the ropes on the floor before he doubled the other one over, and wrapped it round my ankles. 


It was the first time I had seen him – hell, anyone – secure my limbs, and it was fascinating to watch.  He fed the ends through the centre and pulled back as my ankles were forced together, the rope compressing the grey fabric before he wound it several times round them in neat bands.  He then tucked the ends round the top loop, separated them and took them between my legs, the bands tightening as they were compressed like my boots.


The ends were secured behind my legs before the masked man took the second length, and secured my legs together below my knees in the same way.  I tried to move them – with no success – before he helped me to lie down.  He even made sure my dress was still covering me, protecting my modesty as I lay on my side with my head resting on the arm of the seat.


Walking back to the bag, he took out a black cotton scarf, and I thought he was going to sue it as a gag between my teeth.  Turned out I was half right – instead of rolling it into a band and pulling it between my teeth before he tied it round my head, he folded it into a wad, before he said “open your mouth – I’m going to put this in, and I want you to promise not to push it put before I come back.”


I surprised myself by nodding as he pushed the wad in, feeling the cotton on my tongue as it filled the space behind my teeth, the edges sitting between my lips as he looked at me.


“Don’t move.”


“Fhhneee,” I mumbled as he left the room and walked up the stairs, and I tried to move – all I could really do was wriggle round, and the ropes held me like a trussed sausage.  So all I could do was lie there, feeling the cloth soak up the moisture in my mouth – and I wondered what was going to happen next.


What I was not expecting was the front door to open and close, and my daughter to say “hey Mum – you upstairs?”  I tried to call out, to let her know where I was -  but all I saw was a pair of red covered legs quickly walk up the stairs.


“What the…”


I groaned as I heard that, and then saw both of them walk back down, my daughter with her hands behind her head.  Like me, she has long brown hair, her’s dyed a red chestnut colour as it fell almost to the hem of the short camouflage material dress she was wearing.  A black shrug was over her arms, and her legs were in a pair of over the knee burgundy red suede boots with high heels.




“Your mother is fine, my dear,” the masked man said as I nodded slowly, “and you will be like her shortly.  Slowly, carefully, put your hands down behind your back.”


I could only watch as she complied, and he stood behind her, binding her wrists in the same way as mine.  He then bound her arms in the same way, and I watched as the material of her dress was stretched tightly over her own chest.


Well, not quite the same way – once he had made the two bands that framed her chest, he took the rope from behind her under her left arm, then pulled it up and took it round the back of her neck as he held her hair out of the way.  He then took it under the other arm, and back behind her as she watched me.


“Mum – how are you?”


“Hmfhhnn – htsnhtshbhd,” I said as I twisted round, feeling the ropes hold fast as the masked man secured the ropes behind her back.  He then made her sit on the floor in front of one of the armchairs, both of us watching as he secured her ankles ad her legs, the material of the boots actually lightening under the tight bands.


He then rolled up a second black scarf, and eased it into her open mouth, the edges sticking out form between her rouged lips as we looked at each other.


“I will return shortly,” he said quietly as he looked at both of us, and then walked out of the room, returning to the upper floor as we looked t each other.




She looked at me as I said “whhrwheehh?”


“Uhrrhrmm – thkhhnhrhrrhns,” she mumbled, and then she looked at me as she heard herself ‘clearly’ for the first time.  I nodded as I said “whhchnhttmhmshshns.”




I shook my head at that.






She looked at me for a moment, and then nodded as she started to slowly slide herself across the floor, using her legs to push herself over until she had her back in front of me.  I could see the intricate knots he had used to secure the ropes, as she looked over her shoulder at me and said “Whlll?”




She sighed and nodded before she said “shwwhtdhwhdh?”


“Spend some time together.”


We both looked to the doorway to see the masked intruder standing there, before he made my daughter lie face down on the floor, covering her bottom as he did so.  He then helped me to lie next to her, before he took two more lengths of rope from the back and pulled my ankles back – then secured them to the rope around my daughter’s chest.


He did the same to her – in the sense of securing them to my chest ropes, so that when she tried to move them the ropes moved on me.


That wasn’t the only thing he did though – he then gently pushed the cloth completely into my mouth, before I heard a soft peeling sound.  I saw him tear a long length of wide white tape from a roll, and then pressed it down over my mouth, covering my chin as he did so. 


I turned my head and watched as he did the same to my daughter, my eyes widening as I saw the shape of her lips under the tape that covered her lower face. 




I nodded as the masked man stood up and picked up the canvas bag, before he turned the television on and left us there.  We both heard the door open and close, before we started to struggle – both of us rubbing our legs as the ropes rubbed on our chests.


It was a strange, and not unpleasant sensation – but my own daughter doing this to me made it feel very unusual.  I could see she was confused as well, as we both stopped, panting through our noses as the sweat flowed down my head.






She nodded as she started to rub her cheek on the rug we were lying on, and I did the same – I could feel how wet the cloth was in my mouth, but until that tape as off, and that cloth out, all we could do was wait helplessly.


But he had been so gentle, worked so softly to secure and silence us…







Return to the Relative Peril index


Return to the main index