Chapter One. A Failed Heist
The van swayed from side to side as it continued to speed along the narrow country road, buffeting about the two women sprawled on the rear floor. One of the women wore a red short-sleeved shirt and a grey business skirt that rode up over her shapely thighs as she was thrown around by the violent motion of the van. The other figure was dressed in the uniform of a police officer; she was spared the other woman's indignity, as she was wearing a pair of tight-fitting uniform slacks.
Both women cursed under their breath as they were thrown together, the officer's hooded head striking the other woman's shoulders as the van again seeming defied the laws of physics by remaining on all four wheels. The policewoman had also been tightly cleave gagged under the claustrophobic confines of the canvas hood and involuntarily grunted with pain through the drum-tight gag. The sharp pain as her head bounced off her fellow captives body was in contrast to the dull ache in her upper mouth where she had been brutally pistol whipped in response to her reluctance to get into the van parked in the alley next to the bank where she had been on routine duty just hours before.
The attempted robbery had not gone well. Officer Kirsty Price had just started her shift in the downtown branch of the Acme Bank and Trust when the gang had burst through the main doors brandishing a variety of weapons at her and the four customers, who turned around rooted to the spot with fear. Kirsty reached down for her own weapon but reconsidered as a high powered rifle was aimed unwaveringly at her midriff.
"Don't even fuckin think about it, cop" the man who was holding the weapon growled, and Kirsty slowly took her right hand away from the holster and raised both arms in the air.
Two other figures went straight to the counter and whilst one, another man who was wearing a balaclava similar to the guy who was covering Kirsty, covered the staff and the customers with an ugly looking shotgun the lithe figure of the third member of the gang, a woman, ordered the manageress to let her through the security door. The Manageress, a woman in her late thirties, was reluctantly persuaded by the 9mm handgun the woman was brandishing threateningly.
"Open up bitch, or you get it first, then the cop," The woman hissed, pointing over to the motionless figure of Kirsty with her pistol.
"Ok, ok.... Don't do anything silly.... I'll let you in," stammered the manageress whilst fumbling for the correct key to open the security door. The woman robber just continued to point the weapon in her general direction while looking around the bank nervously. She was tall and well built, and unlike her colleagues she was not wearing a balaclava to hide her identity, but instead wore a pair of dark aviator sunglasses.
Finally the lock of the security door clicked and the heavy door slid open, enabling the woman robber to move quickly through it whilst grabbing the startled manageress by the arm and walking her into the rear of the bank.
"Ok, where is the vault?" spat the woman.
"It's no good, the electronic timer doesn't operate till midday on a Monday, so i reckon you'll have a bit of a wait," the manageress said with a hint of smugness, knowing the gang wouldn't wait around for the best part of three hours.
"What the fuck!" shouted the robber "I was told there was no delay!"
"Well you've been misinformed. You had better get going while you can," responded the manageress with a slight smile. This didn't go unnoticed and the manageress was sent sprawling back across her desk by a vicious backhanded slap across the face.
"Shut your fuckin mouth and get out there and start putting the drawer cash into this" snarled the robber, producing a large canvas bag and tossing it over to the startled manageress who was holding her stinging cheek gingerly whilst glaring daggers at her assailant.
The robber pushed the woman out into the main telling area and the manageress started opening up the cash drawers and stuffing the contents into the bag. As it was early on a Monday the drawers were not overly populated with money and it was in fact a poor reward for the risk that the gang was taking. The woman robber knew this and was getting very, very agitated. The men, who were unaware there was any problems, stood dutifully covering the customers and the motionless figure of Kirsty Price.
"Hurry up you bitch!" snarled the woman, her mind doing overtime as to what she could do to recover the situation. One thing she did know was that the gang had to get out of the bank as soon as possible as she didn't want any further customers to come in and discover what was going on.
"Right, come on you... !" the robber hissed, grabbing the manageress by the arm and forcing her through the security door and out into the foyer. "Bring along the cop and let's get the hell out of here!" she shouted to her colleagues as she made a run for the front doors, pushing the bag-holding manageress before her.
The men backed up to the doors, one still covering the customers and staff with the shotgun and the other holding Kirsty by the arm. The two men exited the bank and walking quickly entered the adjacent alley where they had parked the dark blue van. The woman robber was already sitting in the driver's seat, having already forced the manageress into the van's rear.
"Right you, in there and no tricks" ordered the thug holding Kirsty, pushing her towards the rear doors of the vehicle.
"Fuck you, asshole!" Kirsty responded , half turning and kneeing the man in the groin. The thug sank to his knee's releasing his grip on the policewoman who shouted into the rear of the van "Quickly Ruth, let's go!"
Kirsty turned back to the street but was hurled backwards by the force of the pistol smashing across her upper lip, wielded by the woman robber who had jumped out of the van on hearing the commotion. The policewoman was stunned by the blow and whilst fumbling for her own gun was knocked unconscious by the other thug who had produced a leather blackjack and expertly struck the reeling policewoman across the nape of her neck.
That's all she knew until she had come to, finding herself handcuffed behind her back, with her own damned cuffs presumably. She had been tightly gagged with a strip of cloth that dug into the corners of her mouth and a canvas hood had been pulled over her head. She had been bumping into another figure on the rear of the van which was presumably the manageress Ruth Bishop.
Ruth too had been cuffed for the journey but instead of the confining restraint of the hood that had been used on Kirsty, she had been blindfolded and gagged by more pieces of the plentiful cloth. Ruth was still startled from the events of the morning but was also aware of a feeling of excitement that buzzed within her and wouldn't go away. Her hands had been cuffed in front of her and she found herself perversely wishing that she had been restrained in a more stricter fashion like Kirsty. The gang obviously felt that a professional law officer needed to be more stringently restrained than a mere bank manageress.
Finally the van slowed to a crawl and stopped. They had presumably reached the end of the journey, and this was confirmed by the opening of the back doors.
"Rope them and get them out" the low Eastern European voice of the woman barked out and both captives felt loops of thick hemp rope wrap around their upper arms before they were roughly dragged to their feet by the two men. The ropes were pulled taut and the men grabbed the trailing length and yanked the women out of the van, Kirsty athletically leaping out and landing on her booted feet whilst Ruth narrowly avoided being almost pulled to the ground as her high heeled pumps proved more problematic in keeping her balance.
After about five minutes of brisk walking they slowed and stopped. Both women looked around nervously, unable to see where they were and why they had stopped. The sound of a heavy key being inserted and turned in a lock and the creak of a heavy door opening told them that they had reached their destination.
"Get them inside and take them downstairs. Make them secure and then get rid of the van. I have to make a few phone calls to our people," the woman robber instructed the thugs, who in turn pulled the helpless captives in to the building and closed the door heavily behind them.
Chapter Two. The Situation Deteriorates
Kirsty and Ruth were forced inside the derelict building by the ropes encircling their upper bodies, pulled enthusiastically by the two goons.
"Come on you cop bitch!" snarled the thug at a reluctant Kirsty who was trying to fight the incessant tugging on the thick cords. "I have a little something to give you later, you slut!" the man warned ominously, obviously referring to the almost certain retaliation for the knee in the nuts he had suffered earlier from of the policewoman.
"HMMMPPHHH.....NNGGHHMMMM" screamed Kirsty into her gag as the thug finally managed to pull her inside with a renewed effort that almost toppled the officer off her booted feet.
Meanwhile Ruth was complying, albeit slowly and reluctantly, with her captors brief commands which were spat out at regular intervals.
When both of the two women were finally inside the building the woman robber stopped and took a final look around the vicinity of the hideout, finally stepping inside and pulling the heavy iron door closed when she was satisfied there was nobody near their location.
"Take them downstairs and get the ropes off them," she instructed the two goons."The hood, blindfolds and gags can go as well but keep the cop cuffed at the moment. We don't need for her to try anything and get damaged just yet as she may just get us what we missed out on earlier"
The goons gave their leader a blank stare through the balaclavas that they still had on. As with most people in their line of work, these two were employed mainly for the frightening physical attributes that they brought to the job, not for their mental abilities, which were limited. Whilst they had been attempting to get the captives inside, the woman had been on her mobile to her bosses in Prague, reporting that the information that she had been given about the Acme Bank was flawed. So flawed that they had not got even a small percentage of the money they had planned on.
What the bosses had suggested was the only option open to the gang at this time. They would have to auction off their captives to the highest bidder in an effort to re-coup what they had lost on the raid.
This new arrangement was an inconvenience to her personally as it meant spending a few days together at the hideout with the dumb thugs as opposed to splitting up and each going their own way as soon as possible. Now it meant having to spend some time with the captives in order to make them attractive to potential bidders. At least the goons would be happy as it was just up their particular street.
The woman tried the door again just to make sure it was locked before going down the tight stairs to the basement where her colleagues had finished her instructions with the two women.
Ruth stood over by the far wall rubbing her wrists, trying to induce some circulation back into the limbs that the tight cuffs had removed. She looked around the dank, dark surroundings with a surprised air of anticipation. The strange feeling that she had experienced in the van was still evident and she was almost tingling with excitement as she watched the goons remove Kirsty's canvas hood and roughly un-gag the policewoman. Red marks were left by the tight gag on Kirsty's cheeks as she shook her head free of the goon's enormous hand as it pulled the rag from between her teeth.
"Thank fuck for that!" she exclaimed, eagerly licking her full lips in an effort to restore some much needed moisture. Her upper lip was still bruised where the woman robber had pistol-whipped her but she was not showing any sign of weakness as she looked around the present company, eager to remember details which could be vital as evidence in any future court case against these people.
She turned to Ruth and was about to try and console the manageress before noticing that Ruth didn't really look as if she needed any support at all, as she just stood there staring back at the police officer.
"Are you all right, Ms Bishop?" she offered anyway, slightly puzzled by her fellow hostage's calm demeanour.
"Yes Officer, i'm fine. These people however won't be when your colleagues get a hold of them!" Ruth replied, the strange feeling welling up inside her again as she saw the policewoman was still cuffed, her arms drawn strictly behind her, pushing out her ample breasts that were tightly restrained by her dark uniform.
At thirty seven years of age Kirsty Price was fitter than she had ever been in her life. Standing five foot ten in her nylons she was blessed with an athletic build that was evident in the curves of her tight uniform. She made sure she regularly worked out at the fitness suite at HQ, enjoying the many admiring glances that came from her colleagues, both male and female. Now as she scoured the basement for clues she realised that she was helpless to do anything about her situation except wait for an opportunity that may or may not arise. It all depended on how professional her captors were and so far that was pretty solid.
"Take her away and clean her face up, Mr Black" ordered the tall woman, for the first time calling her colleague by name. "And no violence, not yet anyway...." Kirsty was grabbed and frogmarched through a side door of the basement despite her struggles.
The woman turned to Ruth and coldly looked her up and down. "You can call me Ingrid, Ms Bishop.It's not my real name of course, but it will suffice for our purposes here," said the woman in her curious European accent. "And my other colleague standing to your right is Mr Green."
"Yes I'm sure it is, just like Mr Black!" responded Ruth laconically.
This drew a slight smile from Ingrid, the first time she had shown any sort of emotion all day. "Well, it's polite to know each other's names Ms Bishop, especially when we have to spend a few day' together" Ingrid watched Ruth closely, looking for a reaction to this news.
Ruth was taken aback by Ingrid's revelation and the woman captor smiled again as she saw the reaction. "But I thought... I thought that you would just release us after you had made your getaway. What on earth do you have to keep us here for?"
"All will be revealed in due course Ms Bishop, in due course," Ingrid replied smoothly. "Now I'm sure you would like to get out of that oh so formal outfit as it's very warm down here, so if you would strip down to your underwear please... for the moment."
"What on earth... there is no way that I am going to do that!" Ruth spluttered, taken aback completely by Ingrid's order.
"We can do this hard or easy, hard is standing over there" said Ingrid pointing to Green with her left arm. Green for his part stood motionless apart from an ugly looking grin on his brutal features.
Ruth felt the tingle go through her again as she realised she would have to strip or Green would "assist" her.
"Ok... ok... I'll do it," said Ruth, already starting to unbutton her now crumpled shirt.
Both Ingrid and Green watched with varying levels of interest as Ruth removed her shirt, exposing her tits that were restrained in a black strapless brassiere. She could feel their eyes on every inch of her body as she unfastened the grey skirt and stepped out of it, revealing her shapely and strong legs and thighs. Ruth could feel her nipples hardening and automatically raised her arms to cover her breasts.
"Now then, who told you to put your arms there?" growled Green as he qiuckly moved across the floor and slapped Ruth firmly over the face, forcing the manageress to drop her arms to her sides.
Ruth felt her face redden, not just with the force of Green's blow but due to the prying eyes of not only the thug but Ingrid as well.
"Well, well, Ms Bishop! There was a very statuesque lady under all that bank managers outfit, wasn't there, Mr Green. Green just nodded, his eyed glued to Ruth. "I'll permit you to retain the hose, bra and those very sexy pants you are wearing for the moment. Until we put out more, how do I put it, sellable items of attire to put you in."
Ruth realised there was nothing she could do about the situation, except wait for Kirsty to get back and even then there was no guarantee that even a trained policewoman would be able to provide a solution. The gang had shown total ruthlessness in their dealings with Kirsty and to a lesser extent herself. Ruth decided to tough it out and straightened up her posture, putting her hands defiantly on her hips, staring back coldly at her captors.
"Do your worst, bitch!"
End of part 1
Copyright© 2015 by Andy Le Strange. All rights reserved. Art Concept and Visualisation Copyright© D3D Peril Art. Used by permission.
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