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|Storycodes: F/f; burglar; captive; bond; cloth; gag; chairtie; drug; robbery; mast; climax; cons/reluct; X||
|Afternoon Call Uto F/f; burglar; captive; bond; cloth; gag; chairtie; drug; robbery; mast; climax; cons/reluct; X|
It was after 4:00 p m on a cool Autumn day in a quiet shady suburban street. A mature woman in her early forties was walking briskly towards a certain address. She wore matching grey jacket and skirt, white blouse, expensive looking black leather gloves and shiny black shoes. Her narrow brimmed hat fitted snugly and she carried a full, polished leather briefcase.
She looked like a typical business woman making her way home after a day at the office. Just the impression she wanted to create. The short thick hair which framed her face and looked like a wig (it was) and the heavy tinted glasses she wore also tended to disguise her. All of this was intentional. She was of average height with a full figure which exuded fitness and physical strength.
Her name was Beryl and she was a professional thief. No common housebreaker, instead she was one who stole to order for clients who paid greatly for the service. She was on such a job now. Or assignment as she preferred to call them.
And this one seemed very simple and straightforward, so much so that she that she had opted to work alone rather than with a partner as she usually did. It simply involved the removal of some legal documents from the household of a middle aged retired lady who lived a somewhat secluded life. A quiet easy going old dear, mostly out of touch with the real world she had been told. Even the safe she kept them in was a museum piece. This anyway, was the information Beryl had been supplied with and also borne out by what she had been able to find out for herself. She always liked to do her own research before an assignment, regardless of what she was told beforehand.
So here she was. She stopped outside the target address, noting with approval it was in a quiet part of the street, that it was set well back and there were several trees and shrubs in the front yard to shield her entry from prying eyes. A quick glance around (no one in sight), Beryl walked smartly up the path to the porch and front door.
She pressed the door bell. Almost at once she heard footsteps walking firmly and purposefully up the hall inside. The door opened quickly and there inside stood the object of this particular assignment. The woman was about the same height as Beryl herself, slightly less solid and looked as if she took care of herself. Late forties, early fifties perhaps. Short wavy brown hair and a bright smile. Not quite the old ditherer Beryl had been led to believe. She wore a white blouse, similar to her own, a neat brown pleated skirt and sensible shoes.
"Good afternoon," she said brightly and pleasantly, "Can I help you?"
'Well, to work', thought Beryl. And the first move was to immobilize this woman.
"Indeed you can," she said, dropping her briefcase inside the door.
She stepped forward, forcing the woman backwards, clamped a black leather gloved hand over a mouth that was starting to open in astonishment and then seized her upper arm firmly with her free hand and spun her round so that she was facing the side wall. Keeping her gloved hand firmly over the woman's lips (she was already trying to scream), Beryl used her free arm to pinion her captive's arms to her sides. She had to do this one armed but she was obviously stronger and somewhat younger than her opponent and had the advantage of surprise. And during this she also managed to kick the door closed behind her with one heel.
The woman struggled for a while and tried to kick back with her heels but Beryl was clearly her superior here and would certainly win any fight between them. After a few moments of frantic striving she calmed and finally stood in her captor's iron grip. It was as if she realized the inevitable and was not going to waste her strength in something she knew was hopeless.
Beryl appreciated this. "That's right darling," she whispered in her ear, "Just take it easy and it'll be better for both of us. I don't want to hurt you but I have some business to transact in this lovely home of yours. Just let me get on with it and I'll soon be on my way. Now," she said, "I'll take my hand away, (she exerted some pressure with her gloved fingers to show which hand she meant) if you won't make any loud noises when I do. Nod your head if you agree." At once the woman moved her head slightly. "Good, I'm glad you're being sensible." She removed her hand.
The woman was silent for a few seconds, moving her lips soundlessly as if to restore circulation. Finally she said, "I don't keep much money in the house and there also isn't much in the way of valuables. I think you've probably made a mistake."
Beryl smiled, "Let me worry about that darling."
To which her captive retorted, "And I'm not your darling either."
"As you wish Madam. Anyway, to business. I'm sorry but I'll have to tie your wrists. I hope you'll be continue to be sensible. Will you?"
The woman nodded. Did she give the faintest of shrugs as well? As if her unexpected visitor was a tiresome eccentric whose odd traits had to be endured. Beryl looked at her. Where was the reclusive woman she had been led to expect? She released her grip and the other simply stood there, facing the wall. She even put her hands together behind her back.
Beryl decided she should get this over with quickly. She knelt, quickly unclipped the briefcase and took out several rolls of torn sheet. Part of the equipment for an assignment was an old bed sheet (usually bought at a second hand shop), torn into wide strips, folded and used to tie people up where necessary. Such bindings could never be traced.
She crossed the woman's wrists and bound them with one of the shorter lengths of sheet, wrapping them round several times, cinched the bonds from top to bottom and finished with an expert reef knot. She repeated the process above her elbows using a longer strip, tying her around the body and under her neat breasts. She wound the strip tightly, pulling her arms firmly against her sides and finished by cinching tightly under each armpit. She bound carefully because she took pride in her neatness and liked to make sure there were no twists in the strips which could be uncomfortable later. After all, the woman was being so co-operative, standing there so quietly and not moving.
She was just tying another strip around her waist and wrists which would fasten her hands to her body when her victim spoke again. "I thought you were only going to tie my wrists? You've got me wrapped up like a package."
"Permit me my methods dear," murmured Beryl, "But I know what I'm doing. Oh, sorry. You don't like intimacies, do you? Anyway, time to move to your study." Picking up the briefcase she took her captive by the upper arm and steered her down the hallway. She did not have to be pushed or dragged.
The study was at the far end of the hall. The woman did not comment that Beryl seemed to know this. It was a square room with a large desk covered with papers and other items. Clearly a working study. A large framed armchair with leather seat and back, obviously for visitors, stood in front of it. And, wonder of wonders, in the corner was the old safe she had been told about. Incredibly, it was wide open and on the top shelf (where she had been told it would be) was what appeared to the brown manilla envelope containing the papers she had come here for. Beryl could not believe her good fortune. She would not even have to open the old relic!
She propelled the woman toward the leather armchair. "Sit down Madam. You might as well be comfortable."
The bound woman eased herself into it. "I think I can guess why you've come," she said, "And I can also guess who's sent you. You probably don't know that yourself."
Beryl looked at her. This indeed was true. She never knew who paid for the items to be stolen and vice versa. Both client and thief dealt with an intermediary. It was considered best this way. Her regard for this lady was increasing by the minute. She had been misinformed. This was no dithering old soul, out of touch with the real world. However, best get on with it and get out of here.
She took another strip of sheet out of the briefcase, knelt at the woman's feet to tie her ankles. Her captive obligingly pushed them together. She bound them carefully, once again avoiding twists and then cinched them as she had her wrists. The final binding was above the knees. Beryl lifted the pleated skirt out of the way, noting her victim had very nice legs. She bound the woman's thighs with the usual care, even overlapping the strips as she wound them round.
Her prisoner watched this with silent interest. Finally she said, "You're very neat. Like hospital bandaging. Were you ever a nurse?"
Beryl was taken aback. Circumstances permitting, she was usually polite, even courteous to people she had to tie up. Sometimes even a touch of humour if she felt it helped. But if this woman thought she was going to discuss her life story, she had another think coming! "You can't expect me to answer that," she snapped. She finished the bond with a double reef knot, pulled the skirt back down and stood up.
"You're too noisy Madam. Time to gag you," she said sternly.
It was the woman's turn to show concern. "That's quite unnecessary," she said in a pained tone of voice. "You know I'm not hysterical, and I promise you I won't scream. There's no one to hear anyway."
"Perhaps so," replied Beryl, "But I can see the corner of your neighbour's house through those window blinds. They could hear you."
"They're not there at the moment," was the the retort.
"Maybe. But, once again, permit me my way of doing things."
She reached into the briefcase and took out a prepared gag. It was a folded narrow strip of sheet in the centre of which was tied a wadded pad to go in the mouth. This last had been thoughtfully moistened. She held it in front of its intended recipient's face and said jocularly, "Gaggies time. Open your pretty mouthies."
"There's no need to use baby talk, I'm not a child," the women said tartly. But she did open her mouth and even relaxed her jaw which would make entry of the gag easier.
Beryl stood behind her, easing the wadded mass into her mouth as gently as she could. The woman was being so co-operative she felt this was the least she could do. This done, she tied the two strips firmly and securely at the back of her neck. At last, her victim was securely bound and effectively gagged. She looked at her handiwork. The woman, apparently quite relaxed in the soft leather armchair, looked back at her.
She then took the brown envelope out of the safe and looked at the papers inside. According to the information she had been given they were exactly what she had set out to get. The woman continued to stare calmly. She was not writhing and struggling against her bonds, not mewing and trying to scream through her gag the way tied up people frequently did when they saw their property about to be removed. Was that even a faint smile around the corners of the wadded gag?
Beryl thought events over quickly. She had gained entry easily, secured and bound her captive without difficulty. Gained her objective without even having to open the safe. The whole operation had gone smoothly and easily. Too easily. The woman's very passiveness was suspect. Beryl decided to change her strategy.
She put the envelope down, walked behind the armchair and untied the gag. She eased it out of the woman's mouth with the same care as she had eased it in a few moments before. There was a carafe of water and glasses on the desk. Beryl half filled a glass and held it to her mouth while she drank a few sips. She then wiped her lips with a tissue from a box also on the desk. "Thank you," she murmured.
"Now," said Beryl sternly as she picked up the brown paper envelope and held it in front of the woman, "These documents are fakes, aren't they?" Her captive looked blankly. "Well, aren't they?" She snapped.
The faint smile which had been at the corners of her mouth when she was gagged reappeared and spread across her face. "One of three very good copies," she admitted, "The originals aren't even in this house. Honestly, if I had any items of real value, do you think I'd keep them in an old museum piece like that?" She glanced towards the old safe.
"It wouldn't hold up a professional burglar for ten minutes. But it fits in with the picture of a dotty old soul, hopelessly out of touch with the rest of the world (just the words Beryl had been told) which is what the world seems to want to think of me. But," she continued, "They are good copies, and worth something as such. And they were in exactly the place where you were told they were. By taking them you're filling your part of the bargain. They'll have to pay you something. You did just what they asked."
Beryl had by now completely revised her opinion of this lady. And she found her knowledge of her work perturbing. The woman continued. "To make this look like a real burglary, there are some banknotes in the green box on the bottom shelf. About enough for a week's household requirements. Just in case," she smiled again, "The dotty old girl forgets to go to the bank. And there are one or two items of value in the bedroom but that's just about it." Another smile. "But you'll at least get something for your trouble."
Her captor was thinking fast. This called for a real change of plan. But she knew what to do. She looked at the safe, not at the bottom shelf but at the second where there were some letters... and some photographs. She took one out and looked at it. It showed her captive... and another woman in an affectionate pose. She recognized the other woman and was glad she had done her own research. "This is your friend Clarice Cable isn't it."
"You've done your homework I see," the woman laughed.
Beryl wished she had done as much homework on her as she had on her associates. She pressed on. "And you're both of the Sisterhood. I know. You both enjoy each other's company, intimately."
The other was silent for a long while and then, apparently realizing there was nothing to be gained by denying what was known to be a fact replied, "We are. We have been so for many years. She was married for a while but she divorced. He was a wretched man. I, as I suppose you know, never married. Good men are hard to find."
To which Beryl remarked very quietly, "Don't I know it."
The woman went on. "Clarice has been in a convalescent hospital for some time lately and we haven't been together for many weeks." There was genuine sadness in her voice.
Beryl, still thinking of completing her assignment successfully, smiled, "Perhaps I can help you."
She knelt suddenly at her feet and began to undo the leg bindings, working as quickly and efficiently as she had to tie them up minutes ago. First the ankle bonds, then the thighs. Lastly she pulled off the woman's sensible black shoes, placing them neatly beside the desk.
"Now," she said, standing up, "Up you get, darling, and I'm sure you won't mind the use of a term of affection or two, now." She seized her under the armpits and hauled her to her feet. "Just stand with your legs slightly apart. There."
Quickly, she knelt again at the woman's feet and after removing both black gloves, slipped both hands under the pleated skirt.
"Just what are you doing?,"asked the captive uncertainly.
"Let me handle this," smiled Beryl. "Believe me, I know what I'm doing."
She ran her bare hands caressingly up both legs until she reached the knickers above. These she deftly loosened and began to slide downwards. This time the woman's only comment was, "Ohh," followed by a sigh. With her underwear finally on the floor she quietly stepped out of them when requested. The panties were placed neatly on top of the shoes. "Now sit down again," hands on arms again, she was gently lowered back into the armchair, where she relaxed on the soft black leather.
"Now, just lie back and let me please you," smiled her captor. And relax she did. She lay back with both eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. A gentle, practiced hand made its way under the pleated skirt, caressed the inner thigh and reached the orifice above, which was already starting to moisten.
Beryl was very adept and went to work skillfully on the woman's private parts. Within seconds she was breathing heavily, in minutes, moaning softly. Her partner played with her, teased her, drawing her out. The moans became louder, more frequent, finally very loud. Unexpectedly, she climaxed, heaving and shuddering. And very noisily. Beryl trusted there was no one to hear.
Eventually the subject of her ministrations subsided and lay back spent and exhausted, breathing softly. "Enjoy it ?" inquired her temptress.
"Yes, Oh yes.... and thank you,thank you," was the whispered reply, "It's been so long since.." The woman's voice trailed off. She lay motionless with both eyes closed. Beryl stood up then stooped and picked up the two discarded lashings.
"Well," she said in businesslike manner, "It's time I was on my way."
The woman's eyes opened. "On your way? Oh yes. I suppose you must." Her arms still bound, she sat up. "Tell me, how am I to be left? I suppose I'll have to be made secure while you get away. Will I be bound and gagged? Drugged?"
Beryl smiled, "I don't like leaving anyone tied up unless I'm certain they'll be found in a reasonable space of time. Which I don't think would think would happen in your case."
"Quite right," the woman said, "I hardly ever have callers." She was amused, "'Dotty old lady, no one ever comes to see her.'"
"And," Beryl said, "I don't like making anonymous calls to the police. Too often they think it's a hoax. And take their time getting there, if they come at all."
Beryl reached into her briefcase and brought out a wide bottle with a very substantial cap, and a soft cloth. The woman looked doubtful.
"Hospital grade chloroform," her captor assured her, "The best. You'll sleep like a baby for nearly two hours, and, there'll be be no nasty after effects. Trust me."
"I suppose I'll have to," said the intended patient.
Beryl saturated the cloth then held it firmly but comfortably to her captive's face. She in turn appeared apprehensive but then began to breath in the anesthetic and lost consciousness in a few minutes. Soon, she was fully out to it. Beryl had not told her all of the truth. It was true that it was top grade anesthetic and there would certainly be no ill effects but the woman would not be unconscious for anything like two hours. She had only been given enough for about fifteen minutes. Her captor then produced a prepared surgical needle and deftly and efficiently injected her in the neck.
This was a truth drug which always worked best when the subject was in a totally relaxed, calm state of mind and body, as she now was after the delicate servicing before. There had been a reason for had seemed like a generous gesture at the time. The drug took effect and within minutes she was ready for some expert probing questions.
Beryl learned the original documents were in a concealed wooden drawer in another room (the woman had not been telling the truth about them not being in the house) and several other pieces of information which be of some future use. She left the room for ten minutes and when she returned she had them and some other items. She typed out a short note on the desk typewriter and left it on top of the brown envelope on the desk. Then, she untied the strips binding her captive's arms and stowed them carefully in the briefcase. She was not going to leave anything behind.
Finally, her assignment successfully accomplished, she stood ready to go. She straightened her suit and picked up her briefcase. "Well darling, time to go. Normally I never see the people I visit again, but, in your case, after what I've learned about you." She paused. "I wonder. Let's just say au revoir." She bent down, kissed the sleeping woman on the cheek and walked out of the room.
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