Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Premium Member Kev Pickering51/Male/United Kingdom Groups :iconsweetkinks: sweetkinks
sweetly kinky
Recent Activity
Deviant for 6 Years
13 Month Premium Membership
Statistics 1,673 Deviations 2,028 Comments 215,888 Pageviews

Newest Deviations


Flash Player 8 is required to view SitBack. Get the latest version of Flash Player.

Vote in the new picture poll - see details at… 

6 deviants said Picture 3
4 deviants said Picture 8
3 deviants said Picture 6
1 deviant said Picture 2
1 deviant said Picture 4
1 deviant said Picture 5
1 deviant said Picture 7
No deviants said Picture 1


In a few days time, I have an interview arranged with Her Serene Highness Princess Carina Diana Huntingdown von Furstenheim, AKA Cari, AKA Miss Lynx.  So if you have a question for the student, model and face of Illux Glasses, add it as a comment - and watch this space...
  • Mood: Love
  • Watching: Masterchef


Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: strong language)
8 pm Central Time
Hilton Hotel

As Dominique was checking her equipment, her cell phone went off.  Looking at the caller ID, she smiled as she said “John – what do you have for me?”

“I have the address for Metz – and I called Carina.  She said to tell you she’s sent you a little present by e-mail, and to wish you good luck.”

“John, you are a miracle worker,” Dominique said as she opened her laptop, “anything else?”

“Just that Chet really does not like him – and neither do any of his friends.”

As Dom made a mental note of the address, she looked at the message from Carina.  “Very useful – thanks John, I owe you a drink when I next see you.”

“I’ll take you up on that – good luck Dom.”

Ending the call, Dominique downloaded the file onto a stick.  “Right – long time since I visited this place, so let’s see if anything’s changed…”

8 pm
The Village

"Hey,” Grace said as she dropped her bag in the chair, “sorry I'm so late, but I went and saw Pippa Ashley."

"I guessed you had Grace, so we held supper for you." Harriet called from the kitchen.  “I’ll serve up in a few minutes.”

"So how was she?" Sarah asked, looking up from the papers she was grading.

"Still rough and shaky, but better than I thought she might have been.”  Grace sat down and pulled her shoes off, saying “we had a frank and honest discussion."

"You know what it means when politicians say that don't you Grace? It means they had a blazing row, and that one side stormed out." Harriet wiped her hands as she came out from the kitchen.

“What was the Yes Minister quote?  Frank discussion meant there was a fight, full and frank meant they were cleaning the blood stains from the carpet?”

"I know," Grace smiled, "but in our case it’s a true description. I never realized what she had built up inside her over all those years."

"Oh?”  Sarah put her paper down and said “want to explain?"

"Pippa's mother was very ambitious for her children, till tonight though I didn't know that she had used me as something to whip Pippa with..."

"Whip?" Sarah asked.

"The old bitch used my success to point out to Pippa her inadequacies – well, only as Lady Ashley saw them."

"Now that's not only unfair, but downright hurtful." Harriet shook her head.

"I think her mother’s throwing me in Pippa's face constantly is why Pippa grew to hate me.  But I never realized how much that had hurt her until tonight…"

"Well as much as I loathe to say this, I do totally understand that."

"And so do I now Sarah." Grace shook her famous head of blonde hair. "It also explains the events of 15 years ago, and why I left my job in Devizes and moved to Harlow."

"Would you care to elaborate on that Grace?" Harriet asked.

"One day maybe, if Pippa gives me permission." Grace breathed deeply. "You know at the Greenwich show I said I'd cut myself off entirely from my previous life?"

"Yes, I remember that."

"Well it was only 99% true,” Grace said as she leaned back.  “For a few weeks mine and Pippa's path crossed back then, and something happened.  But Pippa and I need to talk about that first."

9.30 pm
La Salle Private Residences
1212 La Salle Drive, Chicago
20th floor

“Care for a drink, Randolph?”

Randolph Metz looked over to where his wife Marjorie was sitting, wearing a silk dressing gown over a pair of cream pyjamas.  Randolph was wearing an ornate smoking jacket over his shirt and trousers, a lit cigar in his hand.

“Why not?  Would you care for some wine, or something stronger?”

“How about a bottle of the ’92 Rioja,” Marjorie said, “if we have one left?”

“We have several – I’ll go and fetch one,” Randolph said as he stood up, heading for the kitchen as Marjorie looked at her magazine.  As he looked for a corkscrew, he didn’t hear the door to the apartment open and close, or the soft footfall on the carpet.

Marjorie did not hear it either – not until the leather gloved hand was clamped over her hand, and she felt the pistol against her head as the female voice whispered “Stay quiet, Mrs. Metz – I would hate to spoil your evening.”

“Shall I pour, my dear,” Randolph said as he came in, the bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other – only to stop as he saw the woman standing behind his wife.  She was dressed in black – including the balaclava over her head, allowing only her eyes and mouth to be shown – and held a .38 against Marjorie’s left temple.

“Good evening Mister Metz,” she said in a deep, west coast accent, “you may wish to very slowly put that extremely good bottle of wine and the glasses down, and then take a seat, hands on your head.  I have no wish to hurt either of you, but I will do so if need be.”

“How did you get in?  The security cameras…”

“Have all been neutralized – and please, do not try to sound the alarm, or I will kill you both.  Remain calm, do as I say, and you both get through this.”

“You have some skill, to circumvent the alarms.  What are you going to do?”

“Actually,” she said as she reached into the pouch at her side, and took out a roll of duct tape, “you’re going to do it.  Take this, and tape your wife’s ankles and legs together.”

“Plsssddshhss,” Marjorie mumbled, the masked woman watching as Randolph knelt down and taped his wife’s ankles together, then her legs above and below her knees, and finally her thighs, moving her dressing gown open to do the last part.

“When I take my hand away,” the masked woman said, “do not speak, merely open your mouth.”  Removing her gloved hand, she waited as Marjorie slowly opened her mouth, and then pushed a red rubber ball in.

“Tape her mouth over,” she said as she looked at Randolph, his wife’s eyes wide as he covered her mouth and jaw with the tape.

“Good – now hand me the roll, and stand perfectly still,” she said as Randolph handed the silver roll over, watching as the gun remained in view of him and the intruder, while she pulled Marjorie’s wrists behind her and taped them together, followed by tape around her arms and body above and below her chest.

“Now, Mister Metz,” she said as she picked the gun up, “where is your safe?”

“It’s in my office – through there,” Randolph said, as he found himself unable to take his eyes off Marjorie.  The masked woman came round and turned the television on, then pushed Marjorie over so that her head lay on the arm of the couch she was sat on, her legs on the seat.

“Do not move – if I hear you move, I will kill him,” she said, Marjorie nodding and whimpering as she took Randolph by the arm and walked him through to the office.

“Where is the safe?”

“Behind that picture,” Randolph said as he looked at a portrait of him and his wife with tall, thin boy with a strange look in his eyes.  The intruder pulled a heavy wooden chair with armrests out, and made Randolph sit in it, taping his wrists and arms to the arms of the chair and his body to the chair back.

As she taped his ankles and legs together, he looked at her and said “You are a professional – what’s this about?”

“Robbing you – what do you think it is about?”

“That I get – but you came when we were still up, which shows admirable skill, courage – and purpose.  So what else is going on?”

“While I open your safe,” the intruder said as she turned the computer screen to face Randolph, and turned the main unit on, “I have a little something for you to watch.  Please do in silence – no need to upset your wife more than she already is.”

“What is it, a porno movie.”

“In a way,” she said as she pushed a USB stick into the unit, Randolph watching as she went to the safe, and looked at the mechanism.

“The fucking little bastard…”

“My purpose is not just rob you, Mister Metz,” she whispered quietly, “I desire words with your son on this matter.  Where is he?”

“You went to all this bother just to find him?”

“You went to a great deal of bother to hide him – but he is causing this girl harm and hurt again, and I want that to stop.”

“Did he…”

“No – but we believe he is running an escort agency and wishes to implicate this innocent young girl.  This must be stopped – so if you tell me where he is, I visit him, and you and your wife were robbed.  I would hate to have to take other measures.”

“Oh I’ll tell you where he is,” Randolph said, “if you make him pay.”

“Guaranteed – now, the combination?”

Marjorie looked up as the masked woman pulled Randolph in, the silver tape covering his mouth and the red ball stuck in it as he struggled in the chair.

“Do not move,” she said as she left him close to his wife, “enjoy your evening.”

She slipped out of the apartment, removing the mask and smiling as she walked back to the lifts, and returned to the underground car park…

11.30 pm Central Time
Morgan Park, South Chicago

Wayne Metz sat at his terminal, looking at the e-mails and transaction details as they appeared.  When his dad had cut him off after the incident at Northlands, that had been the final straw – but he had felt this was coming ever since the bitch had pulled that bait and switch on him in June.

So he had laid plans – the copies he had kept of the web pages helping him to set up the new site.  Getting ahold of the domain name had been simplicity itself – amazing what you can do with a little money to the right people – and he had everything ready.

What Northlands had taught him was the need to act completely behind the scenes – so as the new Madame Angel, he had recruited and screened his ladies as a woman working at distance, using voice modulator software to sound like a deep voiced woman when he needed to talk to them.

And so far, it was working well – and keeping that little whore’s face on there meant that, if they ever got busted, they’d go to Miss Anna Carlton instead of him.  One or way or another, he’d come out on top, and Madame Angel would pay for what she and her ‘friends’ had done – even that little trollop Sarah.

Standing up and stretching, he made his way out of the room and into the small kitchen.  Daddy’s money had set him up nicely here – bought the equipment, paid for the routing and the diversion needed – and he had more than recouped his costs now.

“I need to do some shopping,” he said as he looked at the empty room in his icebox, before taking a bottle of Bud and opening it.  As he walked into the room, he took a swig from the bottle – then stopped as he looked at the woman sitting in his chair.  She was tall – incredibly tall – with long black hair, and wore black clothing as well as short boots and gloves – but the pistol she was pointing at him was very real.

“Hello, Wayne,” she said quietly, “you have proved a very difficult man to find, but finally, we get a chance to meet.”

“Who are you,” Wayne said as he looked at her, slowly walking to the side, “and how did you get in here?”

“I would not look for the silent alarm Wayne – for one thing, I found it and neutralized it.   The same for your video recording cameras – all turned off, so that you and I could have a little chat, nice and private.”

“I don’t believe you – now answer my question,” Wayne said, “who are you?”

“Oh where are my manners – I am known as Dominique, and as far as you are concerned, Wayne, I am the sole reason you are not currently with the Chicago PD awaiting deportation to the great state of Texas.”

“What the hell are you talking about – deportation to Texas?”

“Yes – they like to keep things nice and formal down there when it comes to murder suspects.  They have the death penalty after all – so they tend to watch out for little things like…”

“MURDER?  Lady who the hell are you?”

“I,” Dominique said as she stood up, “am the head of security for the woman who protects Madame Angel.  So,” she said as she grabbed Wayne’s arm, “shut the fuck up and sit down.”

Wayne was pushed into the seat, looking at her as he said “Fuck – she knows, doesn’t she?”

“Oh she knows,” Dominique said as she stood over Wayne, “and my employer is very keen to ensure that Madame Angel remains as hidden as she is now.  But you’ve made her name known again – it is you isn’t it?”

“It’s me who what…”

“I’m taking the liberty of downloading your database,” Dominique said, “and I have copies of all your transactions.  All your – escorts will be contacted, and compensated for the fact the agency has been closed down.”

“You can’t do that,” Wayne shouted as he tried to stand up, only to be pushed down by Dom.

“Yes I can little man,” she whispered as she grabbed him between his legs, “and f that was all you had done, tried to ruin her, I would let you live.  But after San Antonio…”

“I’ve never been to fucking San Antonio,” Wayne screamed.  

“No – but someone shot and killed one of Madame Angel’s former ladies at the airport yesterday.  So, as I say, I am the only thing standing between you and a deportation charge to fetch the needle in Texas.”

Wayne visibly paled as he stammered “Nnnnooo – no way, I never paid anyone to murder anyone.  I wanted to bring that bitch Carlton down, yes – but I never killed anyone.”

“I didn’t say you did – I said you paid someone to…”


“Prove it.”

“Look, I’ll take a lie detector test, I’ll confess to the new Angelic Escorts, turn over my records – but I didn’t tell anyone to kill any whores!”

Dominique looked hard at the scared young man, and said “you know what – I believe you.  So here’s what’s going to happen – all your ill gotten gains are going to a charity that supports women who had no choice in being made to work and sell themselves.  Your records will be destroyed, and as I say your escorts compensated.”

“Still means you have no proof I was behind it.”

“Really,” Dominique said as she stood up.  “Take a look at your screen.”

Wayne turned round to see his monitors slowly start to change from his files to a picture of a fluffy bunny.

“As I say we have your records, Wayne,” Dominique said as she removed the USB stick and pocketed it, “and we’ll clean this mess up.  Go after Madame Angel again, and this will be as nothing – I’ll show you why I am the head of security for Madame X.”

“What about this Texas thing?”

“Not my problem – but you have a more immediate one.  Control?”

“We recorded everything Dominique,” a disembodied voice said.

“Oh – and before I forget, that video tape?  We shared it with someone tonight.  If I was you, Wayne, I’d start running – because your father wants a word with you.”

“Pops?  Oh fuck…”

“So disappear, rat – and pray you never see me again,” Dom said before she pistol whipped Wayne, watching as he slumped in the chair before she walked out of the office.

Taking out her cell phone, she dialed a number…

11.30 pm
The Richmond Mansion


“Heather, it’s Dom – the immediate threat has been neutralized.”

“And he won’t come back?”

“I made it very clear what would happen if he did.  The fund will have a substantial donation to it soon, but we need to compensate the other girls.”

“I’ll take care of it – so he was the one behind the new Angelic Escorts, but the other matter?”

“No – accept my word, he knew nothing of it.”

“Ties in with something Jan said.  When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow lunchtime – I have a breakfast appointment.”

“Good – come here, we can talk when you arrive.”

Putting her cell phone down, Heather breathed a sigh of relief and put her head on Sandy’s chest.

“So Doc is safe?”

“As far as Chicago goes, yes – but we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Tuesday 15th September
12.30 pm
St Angela’s – The Refectory

“All right then,” Pepsi said as she sat at the table, “we have the place, we have the time, we have the theme, and…  We have the invitations!”

She handed out the envelopes around the table, Becca and Nikki opening theirs and saying “Well, we know you’re in.  Who else is coming?”

“I’ve got the ones for Jeannie and Abs, but they scarpered – I think they have a show today, so I’ll get them to them later.  A lot of my friends from the village are coming as well – Mom’s taking care of those today.”

“Any of the Tween brigade,” Doc asked.

“One or two – I’m still thinking on them.”

1 pm
APCO Fashion Week Show, Waldorf Astoria

The ladies were sitting backstage, looking through the outfits and talking with each other as they did so.  

“Well, if it gets me away from school for the afternoon, I’m happy,” Jeannie said as she came in with Abby and Grace.  “Hey Maureen, Jordan.”

“I am never going to get used to you calling me that,” Maggie said as she and Marnie sat down.

“How’s college, girls?”

“Getting used to that,” Marnie said with a smile.  “So what’s the plan for today?”

“We’re about to find out,” Carina said as she sat with Judith, watching as Alice McKinnon came out.

“Listen up ladies.  First up, thanks for coming.  Next up, we’re going to shake things up.”

“Oy vey,” Little Holly said, “this is going to be fun.”

“Look,” Alice said as she looked round wearing a grey coat dress and heels, “I know I’m breaking the custom of recent shows, but honestly 25 minutes, each girl walks just one outfit, those kind of shows are starting to get horrid.”

“Alice has been watching videos of old time shows again darling.” Mandy drawled in Karen’s ear.

“So just for me, you will all be doing at least two outfits, many of you three, There will be a short intermission, and if it’s not PERFECT,” Alice said as she looked round, “kiss all of your discounts at my stores bye bye.”

“Ouch!” Talya Somoroneva, gulped, “that could cost me a fortune.”

“Well then no one fuck it up…”

“Can I remind you that the same rules apply to you Bats.” Karen laughed.

“I’ve told her that,” Duncan smiled at his wife. “She messes up she pays full price.”

Mandy and Angel were looking through the racks of clothes. “I adore these clothes darling…”

“And I have to agree with Mandy, to think this all started with the doodles you were making at the Dior Retrospective.” Juliette smiled.

“Is this one of Kylie’s?” Abigail said as she held one of the dresses on her rack up.

“It is,” Alice smiled, “that girl will one day be a top designer.”

“Bats can I protest.” Cecelia Chancellor moaned in her posh English voice.

“Well, best to get it out of the way early, CeeCee,” Grace said with a laugh.

“I have nothing against darling Judith, but I draw the line at her modeling with me, I feel old enough having walked with her mother and her grandmother in shows…  But to work with the granddaughter of someone I worked with as a mere child?”

“Well quit like you said dearest CeeCee,” Karen and several of the models in her group started to laugh hard as they looked at the veteran model.

“Alright, alright, now I remember saying it,” CeeCee shook her head, “Let me change it to Great Granddaughter of anyone I’ve worked with…And Carmen you DARE ring one of your great grand kids to come here…”

“Who me darling?” Carmen smiled innocently.

“No Jane Bats?” Juliette asked.

“No,” Alice said, “I asked, but Gisele is still sticking to her decision she made in April to call it quits after 20 years in the biz.”

“Well with a quarterback like Tom as her husband, it’s not like she needs the money,” Missy said as she entered the backstage area.

“True,” Juliette replied as she kissed her agent.

“Alright ladies,” Bats yelled out, “we are now on the clock, places please, hair done, makeup done, then you all get to rest.”

“I hate to say it,” Jeannie grinned, “but I think I just found the one thing worse than a Mary Thomas show…”

“I heard that, Jeannie Brewster,” Alice said with a smile.

“I wish Jo were here…”

“Well then, you’d better thank Coach on your behalf.”

“JO!”  Abby and Carina hugged their friend as she came in.

“You made it,” Mandy said as she kissed Jo on the cheek.

“Yeah – it took the combined efforts of Ju, Missy and Alice, but I got the night off.  But I have to be back for eight tomorrow – so someone arranged a helicopter for me.”

“Minor expense,” Missy said, “and the cost?”

“Sponsorship for the team this year,” Jo said with a grin.  “So what are we doing?”

“So what’s been worthwhile so far?” Jo asked Abby as they sat together a short while later, having their hair done.

“Well more shows then ever, but with Grace as dean the school has been a lot more understanding.”

“Well I bet she’s walked a good few shows herself?”

“She has, as for the clothes, it’s been the usual mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly…Ooohh and I need to tell you.  Letty got to make her debut as a model.”

“Letty?”  Jo turned her head slightly.  “As in Letty Kinman?”


“Well with best regards to a girl I love as a dear friend, poor Letty hasn’t got a great face.”

“Maybe not, but she’s only an inch shorter then I am. Angie was supposed to be doing a double with me at the Factory Door show.”

“What happened?”

“She had a wreck and broke her leg driving cross town. So Erica is having a fit when he spots Lets who had only come to give me a ride. Anyway with her wearing a slightly higher heels then me, and me whispering all she had to do, it rather went well.”

“Still…her face?”

“Done by a professional, she looked really pretty good.”

“Oh knowing Letty she hated it…”

“Pretty much, but she said it gave her insights for her essay she’s writing on the effects of adrenalin on the human body.”

“Well good for her, how about the others?”

“Well - Carina and Ingy, probably know the routes to and from school blindfold, they have worked hard fitting classes and shows. Mags and Marnie have both done fewer shows, but some high impact ones, even Holly has walked a couple of shows.”

“Sounds good – and Jeannie?”

“Lapping it up as she always does,” Abby said with a smile.

“I heard there had been a couple of incidents locally as well.”

“Could be – but on the good news front, that issue we had with our mutual friend has been resolved in part.”

“Tell me later,” Jo said with a smile.

4 pm
The Richmond Mansion

“You wanted to see me,” Doc said as she came into the kitchen, where Heather and Sandy were sitting.

“Yeah – I spoke to Dom last night, and again this morning, and she has news for you.”

“Was it him?”

Heather nodded as Sandy said, “Angelic Escorts has ceased trading again, and we got Master Metz not only to compensate his ladies, but to donate all other gains to the Mazengwe fund.”

“And the bastard himself?”

“Dom paid a visit to his parents first – robbed them, and showed his father a certain piece of film.  He knows if he crosses you in this way again, Dom will finish the job.  In the meantime, he’s so scared of his father, he’ll keep quiet.”

“I still want him dead,” Doc said, “but did he order Kerry’s death?”

“Dom doesn’t think so, and I agree.  Jan says there is another possibility.”

“There is?”

“Ed Mitchell has disappeared – Heather is trying to track him, and Jan is doing what she can.  The website is gone, but for the moment, stay vigilant.”

“Ed?  He wouldn’t – would he?”

“We don’t know,” Sandy said, “so be careful.”

6 pm
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel

“I can never seem to eat that much at these things,” Carina said as she looked at her food, “how on earth do you manage it Jo?”

“Hey, I have a meet this weekend – I need the energy,” Jo said as she cut into her chicken and ate a piece.

“So diaries out,” Kate ordered as the models picked at their dinners, then reached for their bags. “So who is where, other then London, Paris and Milan before Christmas?”

“Well those of us who are college girls return mainly to our studies.” Ingrid got her book out.

“Same with those of us still at school.” Jeannie pulled her diary out.

“And those of us who teach.” Grace smiled as she glanced round the private dining room, she’d missed this sort of thing where the girls collapsed, unwound, gossiped, and some of them even ate some food.

“I’m doing a couple of small fashion weekends, places like Philadelphia and Atlanta, going to check out the local talent.” Juliette sipped some champagne.

“Is that as Pelican looking at models, or Juliette looking at Designs?” Kate Upton asked.

“A bit of both,” Juliette said with a smile, “with taking ownership of Norstar, I thought I’d go look at prospects.”

“Sounds an idea darling,” Mandy drawled.

“Well Stick and I have a deb season to prepare for.” Angel looked at the list of events she was committed to.  “What I hadn’t realized is all the other things that go along with the balls.”

“Tell me about it – and I need to make a decision about school next year,” Abby said.  “I’m torn about five different ways at the moment.”

“Your mother pushing the Sorbonne?”

“Nothing wrong with the place,” Juliette said with a smile.

“True – but there are attractions in other places…”

“Like Cornell,” Jo said, ducking the bread roll as Abby threw it.

“Going back to what you were saying, Ju – when the deal goes through, then can you now give Missy orders?” asked Agyness Deyn.

“Not if I want to keep living.” Juliette laughed.  “We’re very much the silent partners – Missy will be the front of house manager.”

“So Pru what is it we all here about pending nuptials?” asked Sasha Pirovarova.

“Well, ladies, the rumours are true,” Pru Stratton said as she showed them her hand, with the single diamond surrounded by gold, “Jerry popped the question two weeks ago, and we’re trying to set the date for next year.”

“Congratulations,” Grace said as she looked at the ring.  “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

“Well, you will all get invitations,” Pru said with a smile as Alice came in.

“Right – places ladies.  We have a show to do!  Final make up and hair, and then we get started!”

7 pm
The Village

“Hey,” Pepsi said as Ama came into the main room of her apartment, “what brings you here?”

“To deliver my acceptance to your party,” Ama said, “I trust all of us are coming?”

“Yeah – so far so good,” Pepsi said with a grin.  “Alex?”

“Is also coming – he has started to look for a suitable costume.  I still have the costume from the Curragh weekend.”

“Well, at least your boyfriend is coming – blooming exams,” Pepsi said with a huff.  “Hey – while you’re here, want a drink?  I want to ask you a question.”

“Of course,” Ama said as she followed Pepsi into the kitchen.  “You know Jan Carter is my other mom,” Pepsi said as she handed Ama a bottle, “well, her daughter Katy knows now.  The problem I’ve got is that I want to invite her to my party.”

“Well, that sounds good,” Ama said as she took a drink, “but what is the problem?”

“Her posse – they’re growing up, but at different rates.  She and two others are discovering boys, but the other three are wondering what’s going on.”

“So the issue becomes, do you invite Katy alone, Katy and the two friends, or all six, correct?”

“In a nutshell,” Pepsi said.  “What do you think?”

“You are, perhaps, asking the wrong person Pepsi – I did not grow up as you and the others did.”

“I know – but I’d still like to know what you think.”

As they walked back into the main area and sat down, Ama said “do you remember when we first met, at the party?”

“At that party at the Waldorf – yeah, I remember.”

“I knew nobody there, except for Mom and Maisha, but you welcomed me and Maisha, brought us both into your circle and made us welcome.  So, logically, can we not do the same for all of Katy’s friends, and make them feel just as welcome?”

Pepsi nodded.  “I guess so – girls gotta grow up some time, and I want Katy there.  All right – we’ll send invites to all six.  Thanks Ama.”

“You are most welcome.  Now, about the game on Thursday night…”
War Zones - Part 6
Dominique investigates the Metz family, Pepsi plans a party - and there's a show in New York
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: sexual themes)
Every one of us has their own way of working in this business, and their own peculiarities in terms of taste and so on.  It’s not as if we’re clowns, and have our make-up recorded on an egg in the stores – but if you get known enough in the trade, people can tell who did a job from the reports.

Now, me – I am known for targeting homes where the female in residence is older.  Like many others, I take care to ensure they are well secured and silenced while I am about my work – not exactly MILF, but more MILT – Mothers I Like to Tie.

What can make it even more fun is if I enter the house, and find said lady is trying to recover their youth by dressing in a way they think can help them regain their youth.  Now, sometimes, that works, sometimes it doesn’t, but...  Well, better if I give a few examples.

Take the woman I called on a few months ago in South London.  I make sure I plan for my visits, and arrive at a suitable time, but in this case I got lucky.  She had just got back from a visit, and had left her front door open – so I walked in, closed it behind me, and walked into her front room, taking her totally by surprise as she sat on the couch.

And she was certainly dressed in a style a few decades below her age – she was in her early sixties, but was wearing a leopard print pinafore dress over a black roll neck sweater, tights and knee length black leather boots with a block heel.

Now, I always have a little something with me to persuade them to be quiet – usually a .38 which looks good in my hand, and certainly in this case it helped keep the woman quiet – all she did was run her fingers through her greying blonde hair as she looked at me.

I spoke quietly but firmly, telling her to kneel in front of the brown upholstered couch she was sitting on, put her head on the seat cushion, and her hands behind her bag.  In my free hand was a holdall with my supplies, so as she did this I put the bag down, took out some rope and then tied her wrists together behind her back, making sure I cinched the binding by passing the cords between her arms.

I then made her sit up, and wrapped some rope around her upper body, trapping her arms against her side as the two bands framed her chest.  That made her dress stretch over her body, but it wasn’t revealing – a fact I am sure she and I were grateful for.

I then took a roll of silver duct tape from my bag, tore off several strips and pressed them down over her mouth.  It wasn’t the most effective of gags, true, but she had been very cooperative, and the look in her eyes was enough to tell me she was not going to cause any trouble.

I helper her to stand up and then lie on the comfortable couch, before using more rope to bind her ankles together, and then her legs below her knees.  I got a little thrill as I heard the rope rubbing on her leather boots, as well as her legs rubbing against each other, before I left her and proceeded to search the rest of the house for valuables.

When I came back, she had certainly been trying to move – the skirt of her dress had risen a little too high.  She watched as I walked forward, shaking her head and moaning in fear, but relaxed as I did nothing more than pull her dress down.

And that was when I would have gone – had I not heard someone gasping behind me, and I turned round to see a dark haired girl in her twenties standing behind me.  Now, I said I preferred the older lady in the house – but age is not a barrier to what I need to do.

And besides, this grill was the opposite to the other woman – while she was lying on the couch, twisting round in her younger person’s clothes, the new arrival was wearing a pink cardigan over a grey blouse and black skirt, black tights and heels, with a black silk bow in her hair and wearing a pair of granny specs.

She was suitably astonished, and I took full advantage of that, holding her arm as she stuttered and tried to say something.  I had plenty of rope, so I sat her in an armchair, and tied her wrists together in front of herself, and then some rope around her upper body to hold her arms in place.  More rope around her ankles and her legs below her knees, and then a length of rope from her wrists to her legs so that they were held in place.

She didn’t even do more than whimper as I taped her mouth over, and then removed her glasses, folding them and placing them to the side before I left both of them to enjoy some personal time together.

It was a good haul that day, a nice pleasant visit with no long lasting harm beyond some time bound and gagged.  It was also a pleasant afternoon visit, but I can visit at any time of the day or night, and often it can be the evening visits that prove the most illuminating.

Come with me to Birmingham, and a December evening as I manage to unlock the kitchen door of a nice semi detached villa and walk in.  It was furnished in country style – you know, dark wood cabinets, hidden hood over the hob, things like that.

Now, the kitchen light was off, but the light in the corridor wasn’t, and I could hear music up the staircase, so I slowly walked up, trying to make as little noise as possible, and looked in one of the bedrooms.

She was, by my reckoning, in her late forties, with long brown hair that had streaks of grey running through it as it lay over her shoulders.  The black jersey dress she had on was certainly figure hugging, and short, given it barely managed to over her bottom as she looked in her wardrobe.

Her legs were in a pair of sheer, shiny hose, and over her lower legs she was wearing a pair of black fabric boots that were studded with sequins, making it look as if there was a galaxy of small stars shining under the ceiling light.  They had a four inch stiletto heel as well, so I had to make sure she didn’t use them on me, as I walked behind her, and then put one arm around her waist and my free hand over her mouth.

Oh my lord did she struggle!  She reached up and tried to pull my hand away, and I was glad I had thick leather gloves on, because her fingernails could have caused some serious damage.  She also, as I figured she might, tried to stab her heels into my feet, but I managed to keep them out of the way as I made her walk to her bed and lie face down on it – long enough for me to take my little persuader from my jacket pocket as I sat across her back and show it to her.

Well, the sight of the metal barrel soon made her stop struggling, as I made her hold her hands above her head, took some rope from my other pocket, and bound her wrist tightly together, before tied them to the metal headboard.  Now she may not have hurt me much, but she had tried to escape, so I figured that deserved a little punishment – which led me to tie some rope around her waist, and then pull it up and between her legs, making her already short skirt ride up as it pressed on her – well, her very sensitive parts.  Tying it off, I then went back to my bag, got some more rope out, crossed and secured her ankles together, and then secured her legs below and above her knees.

Well, the language that was coming out of her mouth while I was doing that was most unladylike – so I had to put a stop to that, didn’t I?  A pair of panties from her drawer was the first thing to use, and then one of her quite frankly large collection of scarves pulled between her lips helped to teach her the benefits of silence.

She took it as a begrudging lesson though – so when I pulled her ankles back, and secured them to the rope coming up from between her legs, it provided as she tried to escape enough of a distraction to grab her attention, as I helped myself to her things.

So much of a distraction, in fact, she was moaning for other reasons by the time I left the house, and got out of the front door.  No idea how long she was left like that, but I’m sure it proved more entertaining in the end than any party she had planned to go to.

That’s one of the things I get out of this line of work, you see – a sense of fulfilment at a job well done, and if the woman is nice and helpful, well I will reward her.  But you still find those who want to recapture that lost youth – and one night comes to mind which made that clear for two people.

This was in Newcastle, party capital of the North East, and it was spring – the time of fresh new life and budding beauty.   The woman I was planning to visit ran a high class jewellery store in the main Georgian arcade – late forties, always conservatively dressed, with hair that for some reason she dyed ginger red.  Anyway, the evening I chose to visit wasn’t particularly special, an ordinary May evening in every respect.  They lived in a place called Gosforth, to the north of the city, in a semi-detached which I had no problem getting into with my toolkit.

It was only when I walked into the front room that I realised something was very different.  The lady of the house was there, and I heard her call out “You nearly ready Mum?”

“I need a few more minutes,” I heard an older woman call down – which told me there would be two women for me to restrain later.  Well, I had come prepared for such eventualities, and I put my bag quietly down, pausing only to put a length of rope in my jacket pocket and take out my little friend.

Feeling ready, I walked in – but what I saw was not a mousy shop owner who was likely to meekly do whatever I said.

Oh it was the same woman, with the same ginger hair – but her outfit was anything but ordinary.  She was wearing a shocking pink vest and black leather trousers, but over the legs of the trousers were a pair of thigh length pink leather boots, the white laces at the front running from foot to top and tied off in a double bow.  The heels on the boots were real killers as well – but fortunately, in this case the sight of me holding a gun and pointing it at her was enough for her to keep nice and quiet.

I motioned to the drapes at the window, and suggested she may wish to close them, but as she walked over I could hear footsteps on the stairs – so I stood by the doorway and watched as her mother came in, looked at her at the window and asked what was wrong.

Ah yes, her mother – you could tell from the face, even if she had long white hair, but she was dressed in black – black sweater, black leather pants, and black thigh high patent leather boots with a zip up the back of the leg and three inch heels.  As she turned and saw me, she almost fainted, but instead walked over to join her daughter as I looked at them.

So there we were – two women, one in her late forties, the other probably seventy, dressed like young clubbers.  Well, there was only one possible thing I could do with these fetish fans – go all the way.

I handed the daughter my length of rope, and told her to tie her mother’s wrists together behind her back, hands palm to palm, and to make sure she made it tight.  Now, I guess they had expected this, what with the armed intruder holding a gun in front of them, so I watched as she doubled the rope over and secured them together.

I then made them both turn round as I took a second length of rope from my pocket, and bound the daughter’s wrists together – and then told them not to move as I fetched my bag from the hallway, opened it, and took out two more lengths.

Their gasps as I forced their elbows together with the new lengths of rope were quite nice, especially from the mother as I passed the rope around and between her arms.  I then passed more rope around their arms and upper bodies, framing their chests in the bands before I made sure it was cinched – for the mother, with the rope under her arms and around the back of their neck, and for her daughter as a rope bra, the rope going between hr breast and around the lower band.

They were starting to pant a little at this point, as I made them kneel on the floor and cross their ankles, using more rope to secure them together, and then to bind their legs below their knees as well as around their thighs.

As they struggled, the rope rubbed on the leather, and the sound was like music to my ears.  So when I tied crotch ropes on both of them, and heard the gasps as the leather was pressed on them, it was even more wonderful – but I knew I had to make sure they could not make any noise while I looked around.

So I made them both, at gunpoint, open their mouths and pushed a sponge into their mouths, making sure their teeth and lips closed over the stuffing, and then took from the bag a roll of white medical tape – which I wrapped tightly round their heads, sealing the sponge in and covering the lips of both of them.

I then made them both lie on the brown carpet, and hogtied them, leaving them in the darkened room while I had a look round the house.

I did find a lot of nice things – but when I was in the daughter’s room, I found two other things that I thought would add to their enjoyment after I left.  So when I went down, and checked the ropes, I slipped a little vibrator into the pants of each of them, under the crotch rope, and left them squirming, the leather rubbing on the ropes and their legs as they were teased....

I certainly left them to be happy that time – and in a way they deserved it, for thinking they could carry off the look of a twenty year old at twice or three times that age.

Of course, these days the lines of fashion get blurred so much that for the older woman, they may often find the clothes they wore as a young woman are back in fashion again.  Not so true of the last tale – those clothes are always an eclectic branch of fashion anyway – but...

When I was a kid in the eighties, the Laura Ashley country girl look was in.  You know, lace and frilly blouses, dresses and skirts that looked as if they were made from floral curtains, things like that.

Well, the house I visited last week had as the lady of the house a woman in her early sixties, who was the head of HR for a medium sized local firm.  She was about five four, and when I had observed her grey hair was cut in an untidy bob.

Anyway, I arrived when she was not home, so I left my supply bag on the floor in the front room, behind the door, and started my search upstairs.  I managed to find her valuables, and place them in a number of bags which I carried downstairs and placed in the side of my bag – then I heard the key turn in the front door, and the door itself open and close.

Hiding behind the door, I saw the lady of the house walk in, wearing a very fetching pair of brown glasses.  She was wearing a green cardigan over a white lace top, and a knee length purple skirt with a floral pattern, the edge of a black and white polka dot underskirt peeking out from under – but she then had on a pair of black tights with a lighter check, and mid length brown mock croc leather boots.

A real mixture of new and old – but she was the lady of the house, so I clasped my hand over her mouth and pulled her against me, telling her not to scream and not to struggle.

This time I did not need my little friend, her nodding and mumbles under my gloved hand telling me all I needed to know.  There was an old wooden rocking chair nearby, so I told her to sit in the chair, rest her hands on the arm rests, and not to move.

I used a ball of twine to tie her wrists down to the armrests, as well as her arms at the elbows, and then tied her ankles together, as well as her legs below her knees, before I used a rolled up scarf as a cleave gag, and left her there while I made my way out of the house.  She had done all I asked of her, so a simple restraint just to give me enough time to get away.

So here I am now, paying another visit – this time in Chinatown, as I look down on the dark haired Chinese grandmother in the office of the restaurant.  She is wearing a peach silk long sleeved collarless blouse, faded blue jeans and straight black leather boots, but her blouse is stretched over her chest by the ropes above and below her breasts, the bands pulled together behind her with the rope that also holds her bound wrists up her back.  There were also bands of rope around her ankles, and her legs below her knees, as she looks at me over the white tape that I have pressed down over her mouth.

The safe door is open, and the contents in my bag, but I smile as I pick that up and put it over my shoulder.  As I walk out, the breeze from the closign door make my skirt brush against my legs, as I walkd down the stairs and into the street.

Maybe hittiing small businesses will add extra excitement – after all, who would suspect a young well dressed woman of doing this?
Mutton as Lamb
You know the saying - and i apologize in advance if i offend anyone in this tale of a home invader who likes his victims to be older...
Monday 14th September
8.40 am
St Angela’s

“Hey,” Nikki said as Doc joined her and Becca, “what happened to you yesterday?  I thought you were coming to the cinema with us?”

“I’m sorry about that,” Doc said with a smile as Abby joined them, “I got called on a family trip, and forgot to let you know.  Mea culpa…”

“Right you three – inside.  Time to knuckle down and enjoy more Middle English.”

“Oh deep deep joy,” Jeannie said as she wheeled herself in, the girls following as Grace came to the gates, looking for one car in particular as it pulled up.

“Pippa,” she said as she walked to the car, “I heard what happened.  Are you all right?”

“Getting there,” Pippa Ashley said as Poppy got out of the car.  “We’ve both got some bruising, and I can’t say I’ve slept that well the last couple of nights, but we’re getting there.”

“And how are you Poppy?”

“I’m fine Mrs. Brand,” Poppy said as she put her bag over her shoulder, “I just want things to get back to normal.”

“Well, if you need someone to talk to at any time, come to my office, all right?”

Poppy nodded as she went in, Grace looking at Pippa as she said “You must both have been terrified?”

“We were – the worst thing of all is they didn’t say a damned word at any point.”

“Oh my,” Grace said quietly, “you don’t have to answer, but were they dressed in grey with white faces?”

“Yeah - how did you guess?”

“There’s an infamous gang of home invaders in the UK who operate that way – I hope they haven’t come over here.”

“They might have,” Pippa said as she looked at her watch.  “I need to get going – Grace, I’ll see you around this week?”

“A couple of evening shows – but maybe, yeah.”

“Good – stay safe,” Grace said as Pippa drove off, before she walked back into the school.

9.15 am

“Alright girls,” Sarah said as she stood at the front of the room, “are you beginning to understand why Chaucer is considered the first important writer in the English Language?”

“Slowly Miss.” Jeannie smiled.

“Well it’s got me to read The Decameron as well.” Anna spoke.

“Trust you.” Becca groaned, “We are struggling so hard with this and you are already reading the book that inspired it.”

“Well it is important to understand that Chaucer’s literary device was derived from Boccaccio’s example.” Sarah smiled. “In his case it was people telling tales while they waited out the Black Death, while Chaucer as you know has his storytellers being pilgrims on the way to the Shrine of Thomas Becket at Canterbury.”

“I like the way that the different storytellers tell stories very much in line with their own character.” Raylene Dougan spoke from the back of the room.

“And I’m enjoying the sheer mixture of characters.” Nikki added.

“Are these the same girls who groaned so much when we started this?” Sarah asked.

“Well once you begin to get how the language works…then yes its interesting Miss.” Pepsi smiled.

“Miss Nightingale is reading Chaucer essential if we are to understand Shakespeare?” Anna asked in a slightly serious tone.

“Well I’ve always thought it is Anna.  Remember Chaucer is what Shakespeare, Ben Johnson and the other great writers of Elizabethan England would have read, so they are part of their inspiration, just as the likes of Arthur Miller are inspired by Shakespeare.”

11 am
St Angela’s

“Did you have any trouble with Poppy and her group this morning Annie?” Grace asked as the teachers took their mid-morning break.

“No,” Annie said as she filled her cup, “she was a bit more subdued then usually, but the other girls went out of their way to be nice. She answered a couple of questions, and seemed attentive.”

“It’s one of those things where you don’t know quite what to do,” Grace said as she sat down.  “I think she knows there is a history between her mother and I, but I told her my door is open if she wants to come and talk.”

“Well I had a word with Letty, she’s going to try talking to her at lunch.” Kate came in and picked up a cup of coffee.

“She might find it easiest to talk to someone like Letty…”

“That was my thought Grace.”

“Well someone looks happy with herself at least?” Annie looked up as Sarah came in sporting a broad smile.

“Okay that is unnatural,” Ingrid looked up from her coffee, “No teacher should look that happy on a Monday morning.”

“So what has cheered you up so much?” Kate asked.

“Only that my sophomores are beginning to get just why we are studying Chaucer.”

“Mark up a success for Sarah.” Grace smiled.

“And it’s not just the super bright kids like Anna, they all seem to be getting something out of it.”

“Well congratulations Sarah.” Kate passed her a coffee.

“We were talking about Poppy Ashley…”

“Oh yes poor child, I heard some of the girls talking about her before class.”

“Anything I should know?” Grace asked.

“Not as such,” Sarah paused, “I heard Anna saying that she seemed subdued this morning, and another of the girls commented she had no makeup on.”

“Well after a shock like this, I’d expect her to be a bit off-colour.”

“We just need to be here for her Grace.” Kate chugged her coffee down as the bell rang.

11 am Central Time
Lake Forest, Chicago

Caroline looked through the window cab as it drove up the long avenue, and stopped outside the redbrick mansion.  Paying the driver, and collecting the receipt, she got out of the cab and stood for a moment, looking round the outside of the building and taking some initial mental notes.

“Miss Jameson?”

Caroline looked to the door, and the smartly dressed coloured man who was standing at the top of the stairs.

“Forgive me,” she said as she walked up, her pleated grey skirt moving in the slight breeze, “when I come for a professional consultation, I always make a note of my initial impressions.  I’m Caroline Jameson.”

“Thomas,” the man said as he shook Caroline’s hand, “I understand you will need to talk with me later as part of your assessment, but Mrs. van Roon is waiting for you in the drawing room.  If you would come this way?”

“Of course,” Caroline said as she followed the servant, the heels of her soft leather stilettos clicking on the marbled floor.  As he opened the large doors, she walked in to see Tracey van Roon seated in a chair, wearing a cream silk jumper and slacks.

“Caroline, thank you for coming out,” she said as she stood up.  “Thomas, would you ask Carmelita to bring coffee for two please?”

“Of course, ma’am,” Thomas said as he stepped out, closing the door behind himself.

“Welcome to Lake Forest,” Tracey said as she indicated a seat, Caroline sitting and placing her laptop bag on the floor.  “How was your flight?”

“Very pleasant than you – it has been a few years since I have visited the Lakes.”  She thought about that occasion, and the fact she had had to remove three high ranking gangsters for what they had done to innocents.

“Well, Augie and I are glad you are in a position to come out and advise us – it is a pity you cannot stay, but I understand this is a busy week for you in both aspects of your career.”

“Indeed,” Caroline said as the door opened, and the Hispanic housekeeper brought in a tray with a coffee pot and cups.

“Thank you,” Caroline said as she accepted a cup.

“So, how does this work?”

“Well.” Caroline said as she put her cup down, “I normally do a tour of the property, noting the current security systems and where safes and things are located, and then I have an interview with the house owner and any key staff – so in your case, you and your husband as well as Thomas and your housekeeper.  I don’t normally need to talk to the children, unless you want me to talk to your son.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Tracey said, “so you then prepare a report with your recommendations?”

“That’s right – as well as providing a quote for any work that may need to be undertaken.  My clients usually find the reduction in their insurances costs more than cover the costs incurred in implementing my suggestions.  Should you wish not to continue, I merely require my costs for this visit to be paid.”

“Which is perfectly reasonable,” Tracey said with a smile.  “So, can we do the interview while we have coffee?”

“Of course,” Caroline said as she removed her laptop from the case, and booted it up, “just allow me to get things started…”

“Well, I think I have all I need from you,” Caroline said a short while later, as she closed her laptop and took out a camera, pad and pen, “would it be possible for me to look round the mansion now?”

“Of course,” Tracey said as she went to the fireplace and touched a button, waiting a moment before Thomas appeared.

“Miss Jameson needs to have a tour of the mansion, Thomas, to review the current security systems.  Would you be good enough to accompany her please?”

“Of course ma’am.  If you would come with me, Miss Jameson?”

As they walked out into the lobby, Caroline smiled as she saw the couple coming through the front door.

“Hello Caroline,” John Jacobs said as he came over and kissed her on the cheek, “here on business?”

“Indeed – Mister van Roon, a pleasure to meet you again.”

“Please – Augie,” he said as he shook her hand.  “Spoken to Tracey already?”

“I have – I’m going to have a look around, and then perhaps I can talk to you as well?”

“Sounds good – John, that catalogue is in my office.  I hope you will join us for lunch, Caroline – Coco should be back by then?”

“Is Coco visiting as well?”

“She’s doing a guest lecture at UIC, on some of the work she did as a student in Venice,” John said, “but she should be back by two.  If you don’t mind eating later?”

“Not a problem,” Caroline said with a smile.  “I look forward to talking with all of you.”

“If you will come this way, Miss Jameson?”

Caroline nodded as she went with Thomas, John and Augie heading to his office.

1 pm
St Angela’s
The Refectory

Poppy looked up as the tall form of Letty Kinman approached her.

“Poppy, I’ve been asked to have a chat with you, would you like to come to the head girl’s room?” Letty asked.


“Well, because one of my duties as a head girl is to be there to listen and help,” Letty said as she looked at the young girl.

“And what makes you qualified to tell me how I should…”

“Poppy I know you were tied up and threatened,” Letty whispered, “but I can probably more than match your horror story with dozens of my own.”


Letty looked round before she said “my mother used to be in a very abusive relationship. Her boyfriend was a bastard who threatened my cousin, in return for him leaving her alone I let him do some unspeakable things…”

“To you?”  The young girl looked genuinely shocked.

“To me Poppy.”

“Oh, that sounds terrible Letty…I’m sorry.”

“Well,” Letty said as they walked along, “at an opportune moment, he seemed to just disappear, it was like I had a guardian angel who finally heard my cries for help.”

“That I can understand.” Poppy hugged the far taller girl as they walked along. “I prayed to God for those awful women to leave me and Mom alone, just take what they wanted and get out.”

“Well that was natural.”

“I was so scared…” Poppy whispered as she started to shake visibly.

“Come in here please.” Letty steered the younger girl into the privacy of the Head Girls room, closing the door behind them.

“Thank you.” Poppy said as she made a visible effort to pull herself together.

“Come and sit.” Letty said as she patted the sofa as she sat down.

“I was so scared that they’d kill my Mom.” Poppy said as she sat down and started to sob.

“That’s understandable – I couldn’t say a word in case he hurt my mom.”

“I love my mom so much, she’s everything in the world to me, I’ve always wanted to be just like her…I can’t think what I’d do if I lost her.”

“I feel pretty much the same about my Mom.” Letty hugged the sobbing girl.

“I’ve always tried to behave just like her.”

“Tell me what she did when all this was going on, Poppy.”

“I guess she was looking out for me – she really was upset when I was taken down the stairs, and then they tied my legs and gagged me.”  Through her tears, Poppy looked at Letty and said “the strange thing was that they said nothing, and that was unnerving enough.  But Mom – she kept talking keeping me calm.  She even called me Poppet.”


“It was her pet name for me when I was a toddler – she never calls me it now.  It did make me feel better though – and when they left, she sat and stayed with me until the police arrived.”

The tears then came unbidden, Letty holding Poppy as she cried, letting the young girl unburden herself totally.

When she had finished, Letty handed her a paper tissue, waiting until she dried her eyes.

“Thanks – I needed to do that, didn’t I?”

“Poppy, when you have a big shock like that, it’s good to talk to someone – remember what I said on the first day?”

“That we’re all Angels now?”

“Exactly – if you ever need to talk or need help, just ask.  Now, are you ready to go back to class?”

Poppy nodded and handed the tissue back as Letty stood up.

“Come on – I’ll walk you to the class.”

1.30 pm
FBI New York Office

“Hey,” Tom Callaghan said as he stood by Jan’s desk, “got a minute?”

“Sure Tom,” Jan said as she stood up, smiling at Adam and Jeanne as she walked into the office, sitting down as her skirt fell over her legs.  “How’s Gale?”

“She’s good – another scan Friday, but she’s getting bigger,” Tom said with a smile.  “Anyway, this murder in San Antonio – you were asking about it?”

“Kerry Hull?  Her parents are friends of the Rochermann's, and well known in the city – just wanting to keep on top of things that could affect our work here.”

“Well, they want someone to talk to her old school friends up here – you know some of them anyway, so you and Adam draw this one.”

“What do we know?”

“Ballistics confirm the bullet was a 7.62x51.”

“Military issue?”

“Looks that way – this guy was a marksman – clean kill at speed.  SAPD are searching the banks of the road to see if they can find anything, but this was a pro.”

“I understand she was – shall we say – earning?”

“No need to be polite – she was a whore, and a very expensive, high class one.  The local office there have her computer and personal effects – she kept very meticulous records, and they’re chasing down her client list now.”

“So why the NY interest?”

“They found copies of e-mails from one Ed Mitchell – dated from last year, and changing around about Easter in tone and content.”

“Ed Mitchell?  As in former husband of Anna Mitchell?  You mean Kerry Hull…”

“… was almost certainly the woman Ed Mitchell was seeing when things erupted at Curragh.  Jan, you need to talk to Anna Mitchell, see if she knows where he is, while Adam gets a trace started.”

2 pm
Xavier International

“Catherine,” Madame said as she sat in the main conference room, Susan with her, “I trust you are not staying up late on my behalf.”

“I have some work to catch up on,” Catherine said from Hong Kong.  “This however could not wait.  I asked Penny to join us.”

“Good afternoon Madame,” Penny said from the London office, “I have Lily with me as well.”

“You have news for us?”

“Okay,” Catherine said, “with the help of my sources in Beijing I think I have finally worked out the identity of ‘Mr. Big’ on the Chinese side. His name is Dong Yun.”

“His background please Catherine?”

“Well he’s an alternate member of the Politburo, and a Member of the Central Committee. Formally he’s the Inspector General of the Department of Military Affairs, whilst also being the Commanding Officer of the Southern Autonomous Military District.

“A man with a lot of power, and his fingers in many pies Catherine.”

“Yes indeed Madame, more than a few of his enemies have accused him of acting like an old time warlord. Not many of them have made the accusation twice.”

“Alright,” Madame said as she looked at Susan, “I need all available sources to give me a workable profile of General Dong, and I need it on my desk in 12 hours…Susan circulate all our trustworthy allies and ask them for what they know.”

“Will do.”

“How busy is Heather on this other matter?”

“She’s working hard Madame.”

“Can we beg her to give us some of her time and expertise?”

“We can ask.”

“Someone get Jill Hudspeth out of bed, her cover in the British Embassy in Tokyo means she can see Intelligence briefings, get her to draw up a report on what the spy agencies know and think about Dong Yun.”

“Shall I call John Vosloo Madame?”

“Yes, he can open doors that even we can’t, especially among certain former communist nations.”

“Do I need to alert Charlotte that we will need eventually Senior people who can be persuaded to name names,” Penny spoke online.

“Yes Penelope, and also co-ordinate the release of some bits on information to tantalise out journalist friends, get them working on this as well.”

“Okay Madame.”

“We may finally have the breakthrough we need.  To work ladies,” Madame said as she looked at her watch, “and forgive me if I leave you to it.  I am due to meet John at a show.”

2.30 pm Central Time
Lake Forest, Chicago

“Thank you Thomas,” Caroline said as she came into the dining room.  Tracey and Augie were sitting with John and a fourth person, a smaller, slightly stout woman with sparkling periwinkle eyes.

“Hello Coco,” she said as she kissed the other woman on both cheeks, “how did your lecture go?”

“As well as these things do,” she said with a smile as she sat down, “and your visit here?”

“I have a few ideas to share with Augie and Tracey, which we can discuss briefly after lunch,” Caroline said with a smile, “but I am impressed generally.  I only have improvements to offer, not wholesale changes.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” John said as he ate some soup.

“Listen, while I’m in the area, I wonder if you can tell me anything about another family who have contacted me about a quote – I usually prefer to know something about my potential clients in advance, and they are local to you.”

“Well, we might know them,” Augie said, what’s the name?”

“Metz – Randolph Metz.”

Augie and Tracey looked at each other, before Augie said “While I don’t know him personally, I know the reputation of the family.  Let’s just say I would not do business with them.”

“Ah – I take it they are not exactly above board?”

“They have money, no doubt, but Old Man Metz, Randolph’s father, he was a tyrant.  Word was he ran with Capone – and as for that son of his, Chet has a few tales to tell of him.”

Caroline nodded as John looked at her.  “So you would not suggest doing business with them?”

“No I would not – they live in an apartment block in the city, but definitely not nice company.”

“Moving on to other matters,” John said quietly, “when is that reception for you Coco?”

“Tonight, worst luck – why they have to throw a party in my honour I don’t know…”

3.30 pm
Complete Style Magazine

“Thanks for seeing me at such short notice, Anna,” Jan said as she sat opposite Anna Mitchell in the editor’s office.

“Well, it sounded urgent when we spoke on the phone earlier,” Anna said as she looked over the desk.  “I presume this is an official visit?”

“Sadly, yes.  A young student called Kerry Hull was killed in San Antonio yesterday  - shot as she drove away from the airport.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but why does it affect me?”

“Anna, we found correspondence on her laptop from Ed, your former husband.  Anna, we think this was…”

“The whore he was seeing?  Oh god,” Anna said quietly, “and she’s dead?”

“She is – Anna, do you know where Ed is now?  We really need to talk to him.”

“No – we’ve only talked through his lawyers,” Anna said as she wrote an address on a sheet of paper.  “I do know he was dismissed from his firm a month or so ago.”

“Oh – do you know why?”

“I heard it was officially through ill health.  That’s usually a cover for one of two things – gross incompetence or something hushed up.”

“I can imagine,” Jan said as she folded the paper and put it in her bag.  “And you haven’t heard from him otherwise?”

“If I did, I’d have screamed at him.  It still smarts, you know.”

“I can imagine – I still remember the fight.  If he does contact you, will you call me please?”

“Jan, he may be a three or four timing bastard, but you don’t honestly think he would kill this girl?”

“Anna, we need to talk to him to make sure he didn’t,” Jan said as she stood up.

“Sure – are you going to talk to the others?”

“I’ll need to talk to Mary and Ju, but nobody else at this time I suspect.  Thanks again, Anna.”

As Jan went out, she saw Mary and Juliette walking down the corridor.

“Mary, Juliette, do you have a moment please?”

“Of course, Jan,” Juliette said with a smile, “what can I do for you?”

“Have either of you heard from Ed Mitchell?”

“Not for a while – why?”

“We need to talk to him about an incident in Texas – if either of you hear from him, will you let me know please?”

4 pm Central Time

“Let me have your full report, Caroline – your suggestions sound good, but I like to see it on paper as well.”

“Of course,” Caroline said as she shook Augie’s hand.

“Augie, would it be impolite if Coco and I took a turn in the grounds before Caroline is driven to the airport?”

“You don’t have to, I can…”

“Nonsense,” Tracey said, “Thomas can get you there in time.  Go on – stretch your legs.”

“Thank you,” John said as the trio left from the front door, and walked across the manicured lawns.

“All right,” John said once they were out of earshot, “what’s Little Wayne been up to?”

“Did I mention the name Wayne Metz,” Caroline said with a smile as they passed a gardener.

“Nope – didn’t need to.  Shirley told me you were calling today, and you might need to talk.  When you mentioned Metz, I knew why.  Has he been bothering Anna Carlton?”

“It looks that way – how much were you told back in June?”

“Enough to know Anna got herself into some serious trouble,” John said as Coco held his arm.

“Well, let me put it this way – Anna for a while ran a business that may be frowned upon, and she shut it down when she was threatened with having her activities exposed.  We dealt with that – but then this Metz creep, who was a former client of the business, threatened her.”

“Let me guess,” Coco said quietly, “Cynthia Payne?”

“More high class, but yeah.  Well, said business has been started up again – and all roads now lead to Chicago.”

“So if he can’t ruin her one way, he’ll ruin her another?  Maybe that tape should be sent on…”

“Not yet – things got more serious.  I need to find Wayne Metz, and shut him down first.  Thoughts?”

“Where is he?”

“Word is momma and poppa cut him off – I may need to visit them.”

John nodded and said “Chet will be home after you go – he may know where they live in Chicago.  Can you stay local overnight?”

“I was intending to – as Dominique.”

“Good – let me talk to him, I’ll call you, and you can get to work.  And Anna?”

“Under our protection.”

“Caroline, why go to so much trouble for a girl?”

Looking at Coco, Caroline said quietly “because she’s one of us.”

“I understand – if we can help…”

“No – thank you, but this is an internal security matter now.  Enjoy your party – join me for breakfast tomorrow if you want.”

As they talked, they came back to the steps, Caroline smiling as she said “so good to see both of you again – do stay in touch,” and got into the waiting car.

5.30 pm Central Time
Chicago O’Hare Airport

“Thank you again,” Caroline said as Thomas closed the door, saluting before he drove off and she entered the terminal building.  Looking round, she walked to the left luggage locker, and collected a black holdall before disappearing into the ladies toilets.

She went in a blonde, wearing a grey blouse, skirt and jacket with heels.  When she came out, she had long dark hair, and was wearing a black leather jacket over a roll neck sweater, jeans and short boots.

Walking back out, she hailed a taxi, jumping in and asking for a city centre hotel as she took out a phone.

“Annie?  I’m staying over – all good there?

“Excellent – I’ll call later.”

6 pm
The Ashley Apartment,  4th Avenue

“Mom?  Someone is at the apartment door.”

Pippa Ashley stood up, shaking slightly as she walked to the apartment door and looked through the spyhole, then opened the door as she saw Grace standing at the other side.

“Hello Philippa,” she said as she stood in the doorway, “may I come in?”

“Of course,” Pippa said as she stood to one side, allowing Grace to come in as Poppy looked over from the seat.

“Mrs. Brand?  What are you doing here tonight?”

“Well, I wanted to see how you both were after what happened on Saturday, Poppy.  I know Letty talked to you today – I hope that helped.”

“It did thanks – I never knew…”

“No need to share a confidence Poppy.”

“Oh yes, sorry,” the young girl said with a little smile.

“Poppy, why don’t you go and start to sort some salad out,” Pippa said, “while I talk to Mrs. Brand?”

“All right Mom,” Poppy said as she went into the kitchen, Grace following her to the seats.

“So what can I do for you,” Pippa said as she sat down.

“Pip,” Grace said as she put her bag down, “I know we can never put things back to how they once were between us, but I’d like to at least try and establish a truce. I’m not going anywhere either as Dean of St Angela’s, or as a working model, our paths are going to cross. For the sake at least of Poppy, can we drop hostilities?”

“Gray,” Pippa said as she rubbed her wrists, the faint bruises still visible under the cuffs of her blouse, “you knew I was in love with Christian…”

“I only knew he was attractive, charming, and fun to both go out with…”

“And sleep with?”

“Yes Pip…”  Grace looked at her former friend before saying “and to sleep with.”

“So why did you steal him?”

“I didn’t...”  Grace watched as Pippa waked to a drinks cabinet, poured brandy into two glasses and brought them over, handing one to Grace as she sat back down.  “Pip, he chased after me, I never guessed that you had fallen for him so hard. If I had, do you think I wouldn’t have dumped him?”

“I don’t know…I really don’t.”  Pippa stared at the glass as she swirled the liquor round in it.  “At the time it just seemed you were taking everything of mine.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that I became a model Gray, you became a better one.  I got into a decent university like Bristol, you got into Oxford.  I got to do a soap powder commercial - you got to be the spokesmodel for one of the world’s biggest perfume companies.”

“I didn’t realize you resented me that much.” Grace whispered.

“I don’t know it was resentment,” Pippa said as she took a sip of her drink, “it was more like envy, and to have my mother constantly reminding me of how much better you were doing in life then I was…”

“Oh dear Lord, she wasn’t was she Pip?”

“Yes,” a tear appeared in Pippa’s eyes, “I was never good enough for her, I always had to be better…just like you was what she wanted me to be.”

“What did she say when I quit and disappeared?”

“I think for the first time ever it actually shut her up…  I’m sorry Grace, but I actually celebrated when you quit.”

“You know I did it because of the drugs and booze?”  Grace looked at the glass as she said this, and put it down.

“Yes, and in a way I resented that as well. You went to all the ‘A List’ parties, you got drunk and high with princes and movie stars. I was on the ‘D List’, I was lucky if I went to a party not populated totally with just creeps and perves.”

“A lot of the men I knew were creeps and perves Pip, and you knew Stella as well, you think ‘he’ was really a gentleman?”

“Gray I just know that I was never made so happy by anything as by your downfall…”

“That’s awful Pip.”

“I know, but it’s the truth…”  Pippa took another drink, before saying “and by the way - staring at the barrel of a gun being pointed at you has a way of getting you to acknowledge a lot of truths… Including the bad things.”

“I never knew…”

“No – you cut yourself off completely, and I buried it for all those years.  Poppy became my focus – and then you reappeared.  When I heard your story, I realized I’d misjudged you Gray - but I could not bring myself to admit, even when you walked through the door that afternoon.”

Looking over at Grace, Pippa said “you’re right Gray – things can never be as they were between us.  But we do need to put the past behind us – if we can.”

“Your mother never really liked me, did she?”

“No – she didn’t,” Pippa said with a smile.

“Sounds like The Countess and her mother-in-law – but they get on well enough now – so maybe there is hope for us?”

“Maybe there is – would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I have to get back,” Grace said as she finished her drink.  “By the way, did you contact him?”

Pippa shook her head.  “I never want to see him again – you’ve never told anyone?”

“Not my place, Pip – perhaps we can get a bite to eat some time?”

“After the chaos has died down?”

“Yeah – I’ll look forward to it,” Grace said as she finished her drink, and stood up.  “See you around.”

“Yeah,” Pippa said as she showed Grace out, smiling as she closed the apartment door behind her.


“Get the griddle pan out and oil the tuna, Poppet – we’re going to eat like queens tonight.”
War Zones - Part 5
Caroline visits the Chicago branch of the van Roon family, while Grace and Letty try to help the Ashley's...
“Country road, take me home, to the place where I love!
West Virginia, Mountain Momma, Take me home, country road...”

The wooded mountains provided an amazing and awe inspiring backdrop to the roads as the massive RV made its way along the winding road.  Deep brown in colour, Bart Kingston was seated in the black leather upholstered seat, humming along to the radio as Valeria sat in the rear, reading a magazine.

As one of the three managing directors of Kingston Chemicals, he and his wife were making their way to the annual mountain retreat.  Every year, he and the other two men in charge drove out to the Rockies, to allow them to have some quality time together and also to discuss business away from the prying eyes of competitors and the business press.

Valeria Kingston was in her late forties, and had blonde hair cut in a tight bob.  As with many wives of executives, sessions at the local tennis club kept her slim, and she was wearing a grey waistcoat top over a black jumper and pedal pushers, white kitten heels on her feet.  She looked up from her book and smiled as she said “how much further?”

“About another hour,” Bart said without looking round.  “Did you back the stuff in the icebox?”

“Of course – plenty of steaks and chicken legs for the barbecues, and you promised that on at least one day you and the boys would bring some fresh fish back.”

“And so we shall,” Bart said as he looked out of the large windshield, “and so we shall.”

As the RV pulled into the campsite, Valeria looked to the next lot, where a grey vehicle of the same size was already parked.

“Looks as if Jo and Ken have already arrived,” she said as her husband turned off the engine, and swung the seat round, standing up on the green carpeted floor as they left by the side entrance.

“There you are!”

They smiled as an auburn haired woman, wearing a blue and white maxi dress walked over with a man in a polo shirt and shorts.

“Jo – how wonderful to see you,” Valeria said as they hugged and kissed each other.”

“You too Val,” the other woman said as their husbands shook hands.  “I suppose Betsy is going to be late as usual?”

“Well, give her a chance, she does have to come the furthest,” Jo said as she looked over the site.  “Are we the only three booked in for this week?”

“No – Bart told me there’s another couple staying here, but I don’t think they’ll worry about us in our own little worlds.”

Jo smiled as Val took her into her vehicle, setting the Formica slats over the frame as she made up the table, and then set some plates out on it.

“Have you had this re-fitted?”

“Re-upholstered,” Val said with a smile as they heard a third vehicle draw up.  Looking out of the window, they saw a red RV draw up, and then a strawberry blonde in her early forties come out, wearing a brown waistcoat and slacks with a yellow blouse.

“Knock knock – room for one more?”

“Come in Betsy,” Val said, “we’re just having a snack.  How’s David?”

“Stressed out as usual,” Betsy said as she sat down.  “I mean, driving does relax him, but still – he’s more on edge than usual at the moment.”

“Well, hopefully this will help him to relax,” Jo said, “Martini?”

The park was in darkness, the three vehicles showing no light as the fourth vehicle, all in black, pulled into the allocated plot and the headlights were killed.  From the side, the door opened for a moment and then closed.

“We’re heading off to the lake,” Bart called out as he stood at the doorway of the vehicle, “what are you going to be doing today?”

“Not sure yet,” Val called back from the shower area, “see you later!”

As Bart walked out, he saw Dave and Ken standing there, all three men wearing white polo shirts and shorts.  They started to walk towards the lake, as Val turned on the shower and started to wash herself down.

The sound of the running water covered the creak of the vehicle door as it opened and closed, as well as the soft footfall on the carpet as the soap was washed off her body.

Eventually, she turned the water off and wrapped a white towel around her head, forming a turban to cover her hair before she reached out and grabbed a large brown bath sheet, wrapping it around herself as she stepped out of the cubicle before she looked in the mirror.

“Not bad for my age,” she said quietly, before she saw the reflection in the mirror and stood straight.

“Say nothing – do as you’re told, and no harm will come to you.  Slowly, walk to your closet.”

Val nodded as she walked slowly across the vehicle, and opened the closet up.

“Pick up that scarf.”

Reaching in, she picked up one of her favourite chiffon scarves, in pink, and then listened as the voice said “Put it in your mouth.”

Slowly, fearfully, she pushed the cloth into her mouth, closing her lips over it as she heard “turn round.”

Val turned and watched as the gloved hands smoothed a length of brown sticking plaster over her mouth, before she was told “get dressed.”

Jo dried the last of the plates and placed it in the cupboard, before she cleared away the breakfast cereal boxes and placed them in the wood lined overhead storage cupboard.  To do this, she had to stand on the beige upholstered seats, co=ordinate with the olive pelmets and beige curtains.  Everything in the vehicle was designed to work together, just the way Jo had wanted it to.

As for the auburn haired wife, she was wearing a white sleeveless tennis dress, with red trim on the v-necked front and waist.  The flared skirt was short, barley reaching halfway down her thighs, and swayed slightly as she climbed off the seat and went back to the fridge.

Jo had a pair of white tennis shoes on, which slapped on the hardwood floor – and then she heard the footfall behind her.  A second before she felt the leather gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

“Be very quiet,” the voice said behind her, “and do exactly what I say.  Understand?”

“Ysss,” Jo mumbled as she nodded her head, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Good – lean over the bench, and put your hands behind your back.  Say nothing, remain calm.”

“What’s this about,” Jo said as she bent over, and felt her wrists been crossed behind her back, and then cord being used to bind them tightly together.

“You will find out in due course,” the voice said as she felt the cord been pulled between her wrists, and then tied off, out of reach of her long fingers.

“Stand up,” the voice said, and as she did so she saw the gloved hand in her mouth, a folded cloth sitting in the upturned palm.

“Oh god...”

“Shh – open your mouth.”

The cold pressure on her back made Jo swallow before she slowly opened her mouth, and felt the cloth as it pressed down on her tongue.  There as the sensation of pulling around her mouth as some sort of tape was pressed over it, and then the voice said three words.

“Close your eyes.”

“Morning has broken, like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken, like the first word.”

Betsy was singing to herself as she sat in the driver’s seat, gently swinging from side to side as she bent her legs and put her chin on her knees.  The former cheerleader was wearing a cheerleader’s jumper and skirt.

The jumper had a white body and red sleeves, with a black collar, hem and cuffs, and a red Megaphone with “SM” printed on the front.  The red and white skirt covered her enough, and she smiled as she looked at her beige and brown bowling shoes.

“The girls were right – we really did need this break,” she said with a smile as she spin round and stood on the brown shag pilled carpet.

“Oh I am sure you do – and I can only hope this adds to the excitement.”

Betsy stared at the man who was standing on the floor of the vehicle, smiling as he aimed a Magnum directly at her.  He was wearing a tan safari jacket over a roll neck sweater, and light grey bell bottom trousers.  A pair of dark glasses covered his eyes, a thick moustache his upper lip.

“What the hell...”

“Hush,” he said as he put his finger to his lips, “we’re going for a little ride, you and I.”  Reaching into his jacket pocket, he took out a length of cord and said “turn round, hands behind your back, and stay perfectly still.”

“What’s going on,” Betsy whispered as she moved round, and the man stepped forward, putting the gun down as he crossed and bound her wrists behind her back with the cords.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said as he passed the rope between her arms, and cinched the band tightly, then tied the ends together before he turned her round, and held a folded handkerchief in front of her mouth.

“Open your mouth, then close it after I put this in.”

“I’ll be quiet, please...”

As he reached again for the gun, Betsy slowly opened her mouth, trying not to panic as the cloth filled it and pressed down on her tongue, and then the brown sticking plaster was pressed over her lips, holding them firmly together as it pulled on her chin.

“Whtrudnngg,” Betsy mumbled as she saw the man take a black silk scarf from another pocket, and fold it into a band.

“Close your eyes.”

He tied the scarf tightly over Betsy’s eyes, and then led her out of the vehicle, down the stairs and into the waiting transport, where Jo and Val were already seated.  Val had put on a tight white polo top and shorts, but all three were mewling and twisting round as the door was closed on them, and the vehicle moved off...

“What do you mean they’re gone?”

“Just that Bart – all three of them have gone.”

Dave was standing by his RV, looking at his fellow director as Ken came out of his own.

“I found this,” he said as he held up a sheet of paper.  Opening it, the three men looked at the message spelt out in glued on letters.


“There was this as well,” Ken said as he showed them both a Polaroid photograph of their wives, blindfolded, gagged with sticking plaster and with their hands behind their backs.

“Oh hell,” Bart said quietly as he rubbed his hair, “they really have been kidnapped, haven’t they?”  Looking at the other two men, he said “we don’t have a choice do we?”

“and how are we meant to find that sort of money in the middle of nowhere?”

“Let me think,” Bart said as he looked round, “let me think...”


Val squirmed round, the ropes around her upper body and arms holding her firmly to the chair back, her ankles tied and pulled under the chair before they were secured to her wrist, her legs tied below her knees.  Calling out again, she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and the blindfold was pulled off her head.

“If you three women agree not to scream and shout,” one of the two men in the room said as he looked at them, “those gags can come off and you can eat.  What do you say?”

Val looked at Jo and Betsy, all three nodding and then grimacing as the plaster was yanked away from their mouths, and then the cloths pulled out.

“Who are you,” Val said as the other man opened three bottles of water, “what do you want?”

“Your husbands to pay for your safe return,” he said as he pit a straw in the bottle and held it to Val’s lips.  “Drink – it’s just water.”

The other two watched as Val tentatively sipped, and then nodded as she took a long drink.

“We regret the inconvenience to you,” the other man said as one by one they were given some water, “but hopefully it will not be for too long.”

“Where are we,” Jo said as she tried to move her legs, with little success.

“somewhere safe,” the man said, “so long as you behave and do as you’re told.  Hungry?”

All three nodded as they were given sandwiches to bite and chew n, between drinks of water.   All three were tied to wooden chairs in some sort of room, with blacked out windows and doors, the only light coming from a paraffin lamp burning to the side.

“You can’t keep us prisoner forever,” Val said as she swallowed another bite of the chicken sandwich, “our husbands will pay up, and you’ll be caught.”

“Yes – and no,” the man said, smiling as he looked at Val.  “Yes, they will pay – no, we will not be caught.  Now, I am going to untie you, and you may use the toilet in the corner over there to relieve yourself – and no funny stuff, or your fellow executive wives here die.  Understand?”

Looking at Jo and Betsy, Val nodded slowly as she was released from the ropes, and stood up, rubbing her wrists and waking with the man to a curtained off corner of the room.  Stepping through, she found a toilet, and sink with running water and soap, so that she was able to take care of personal business before coming back out.

As she did so, she saw the man was holding a long coil of rope, with a lasso fashioned at one end.  Passing the loop over her head, she felt it tighten and force her arms into her sides, before he tied the rope around the band and then took it around her wrists in front of her, securing them together, then her legs below her knees, and then her ankles, so that the one piece of rope held her like a sausage.

Making her jump to where a mat had been laid out, the man made Val lie down, and tied the last length of rope back to her wrists, before tearing a fresh piece of sticking plaster from the roll and pressing it down firmly over her lips.

Jo was next, and then Betsy, so that all three were lying trussed and gagged on mats.  “Make sure they don’t move,” the man said to his companion as he walked out.

“Hmgddwhtrwggntdd,” Betsy mumbled as she looked at the other two.

“Stcllmm, nrlxx,” Val mumbled, wondering what Bart was trying to do at that point.

“Okay,” Bart said as he got out of the hire car, “I got the money.  Are we agreed on what we’re going to do?”

“I don’t like it,” Ken said as he rubbed his chin, “What if it goes wrong?”

“It won’t – trust me,” Dave said as he looked at the men.  “Let’s do this.”

“Thank you,” Betsy said quietly as the three women sat on their mats.  The ropes and tape gags had been removed from all three of them, as they bit into the slices of melon and drank the water.

“So what happens now?”

“Well, Mrs Kingston,” the man guarding them said, “provided your husbands bring the money to the place they’ve been told, you’ll be with them before dinner tonight.”

“So will you release us as soon as you get your blood money?”

Looking at Jo, the man said quietly “I think we’ve treated you with due consideration and kindness – we fed you, gave you water, made sure you had relief.  Some men would have kept you tightly trussed the whole time – imagine how uncomfortable that would have made you.”

The three women looked at each other before the man said “now – sit in a circle and link arms.”


“We need to make sure you can’t let people know what’s happening before it’s time – sit down and link arms.”

Standing slowly up, the three women stood up – but before they could take another step, both Jo and Betsy screamed into the sweet smelling cloths that the second captor had clamped over their noses and mouths.

“What the fssccccc” Val said as she turned round, only to inhale the sweet musky aroma as a similar cloth was clamped over her own nose and mouth.  The fumes seemed to seep into her brain and make it fog over, as her eyes slowly closed and she went limp, the man lowering her to the floor...

The car lot of the Holiday Inn was quiet, with only a few vehicles in situ as Bart pulled into a vacant spot, stepping out and removing an old brown suitcase from the trunk.  Walking across the lot to a black Cadillac, Bart looked from side to side, nodding as the rear window wound down.

“Pop the trunk,” the man inside said, and as the trunk slowly opened he looked at Bart.

“Is it all there?”

“Yes – where is my wife?”

“Safe – put the case in the trunk, and close it.”

Bart walked round, but as he got there a second man got out of the trunk, and said “lay it down and open it.”

“Don’t you trust us?”

“No,” the man said as Bart opened the case, and the man checked the bundles of notes.  “Good,” he said as he closed the case, and the trunk lid.  “Return to your vehicle, Mr Kingston, and join the others – your wives will be returned soon.”

“What guarantee do we have of that?”

“You don’t,” the man said as he got into the car and it set off, Bart running to the hire car where Dave and Ken were sitting.

“Did the gismo work?”

“So long as the battery holds out...”

They drove off, following the black car as it made its way along the mountain roads...

As Val slowly opened her eyes, her mouth felt drier than the last martini she had drunk – and as they slowly focused, she realised she had been bound and gagged again.  This time she could feel the cords around her wrists, and her waist, and as she looked down she saw the ropes holding her wrists and ankles together.

What was different as well was she was sat on an upholstered bench, with Jo and Betsy coming to and looking round as well – and they could hear a vehicle stopping outside.  They tried to talk, but the knotted scarves sitting between their teeth muffled any sounds...


Bart looked at the law enforcement officer as he came out of his car.

“We’ve got an APB out on the car, Mr Kingston – we’ll find it.  Where was it heading last?”

“South between here and the hotel,” Dave said, “but the battery gave out.”

Looking round, the sheriff said “whose RV is that, Mr Kingston?”

“The black one?  No idea – it was here yesterday, why?”

Walking up to the door, the sheriff banged on it – and then put his ear to the door before drawing his gun.

“Sheriff, what are you?”

Val, Jo and Betsy screamed as the light flooded in, and they saw the armed police officer look in.

“In here,” he said over his shoulder.

“Brt?  Hmgdd,” Val said as she saw her husband look in the doorway.

“They were here all the time?  Jo,” said Ken as he came in, looking at Jo and easing the damp scarf from her mouth.

“Oh god, oh thank god,” she whispered as she buried her head into his shoulder, “you’re here, we’re safe...”
RV: Roped Vacation
Inspired by old photos, a story from the seventies...
Vote in the new picture poll - see details at…
6 deviants said Picture 3
4 deviants said Picture 8
3 deviants said Picture 6
1 deviant said Picture 2
1 deviant said Picture 4
1 deviant said Picture 5
1 deviant said Picture 7
No deviants said Picture 1


KP-Presents's Profile Picture
Kev Pickering
United Kingdom
Writer of "detective magazine" fiction which I publish with other works at The text boxes you see here contain extracts from some of my stories. Click on the link and look for the category mentioned in the description for the full text. For quick updates to my site, try my blog at

I am always open to story ideas or collaboration requests - :iconrequestsopen: :iconcollabsask:

Current Residence: UK
Favourite genre of music: Classic Rock, sixties female
MP3 player of choice: I don't own one
Favourite cartoon character: DangerMouse
Personal Quote: It's the quiet, unobivous ones you have to watch


Ta mate! Hope I can stay longer this time round ;)
Sat Nov 23, 2013, 4:45 AM


Apr 26, 2015
4:50 pm
Apr 26, 2015
4:18 pm
Apr 26, 2015
4:15 pm
Apr 26, 2015
3:58 pm
Apr 26, 2015
3:33 pm


Add a Comment:
MisterMistoffelees Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the Invasions fave, Mr. KP!... :D
Created-By-Caz Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the fave!
saebasan Featured By Owner Mar 13, 2015
Two comments today.  First off, you are one darn prolific writer.  You are literally posting material here faster than I can read it.  Wow.

Second, do you by any chance maintain some sort of index or outline of your stories, in particular which ones go together and in which order?  I am one of those AR types that have to read things in order, from the beginning and just trying to figure out where to start is giving me headaches.  :)

Cheers and thanks for all the reading material!
KP-Presents Featured By Owner Mar 13, 2015
Well thanks.

Now indices - hmmmm

Some of the stories are definitely following a sequence - and on my site at www.kppresents,com the likes of The Pussycat Bang, The Cat, Madame X, Heidi and others are in a reasonable order.  Other stories - easier if you ask me which ones...
MisterMistoffelees Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the Invasions fave, good sir!... :D
carmag34 Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2015
thanks for fav :)
Silkenvixen Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2015
I hope you like your llama badge, I can't believe I haven't given you one yet!
KP-Presents Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2015
Why thank you.
devianartfan1989 Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2015
hi, I read through all the stories on your site featuring an Indian family. They're all great ! I'd like you to read through some of my stories on TOTV, if you like any of them, I have some story ideas I can put in writing for your site.…
KP-Presents Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2015
Hi - i had a look.  Write to me at
Add a Comment: