1983 – NORTH EAST ENGLAND
ESCAPE
Bleak House
It was a windswept and miserable morning……the wind was still blowing a gale……the remnants of the previous nights storm that had swept in from the North Sea…..from there the Barents……and finally from the Arctic North
The tortured sky was filled with dark grey clouds;it was still almost night has the dawn struggled to emerge……rain filled clouds raced across the equally grey winter sky.
Heavy rain lashed the flat Cumbrian moorland;it was a bleak landscape, the high wind swept across grassland and from moor to the town….all the way to the coast
Sunrise had struggled to make an impact as the thunder and rain fused clouds scudded thickly across a dark gray and black sky.
It was not a good time to be out and about………..
The lone house looked isolated and bleak.
It was a two storied affair; block shaped with a garage attached to one side….made of brick layered in course and ferrous looking white painted concrete…..
A slate gray roof complete with a central chimney flume.
Its walls were painted a now dirty white; by the looks of its current state it needed a little renovation.
The wooden window frames, two on the upper floor, a large bay window on the ground floor, then the brown front door with no glass.
It was a modest looking house, isolated in this sparsely populated area of the country.
Whoever lived there appreciated being left alone.
From the front door, a concrete path led down through an ill kept garden, a few steps that led to a small iron gate that led to a gray two lane macadam B road.
The front of the property was bordered by a low stone wall, there was no shrubbery or hedge inside the wall, the garden was bleak, like the country that surrounded the house.
The garage faced directly onto the road.
Like the house it was founded on higher ground, elevated from the road, a concrete drive led down to the B road below. The garage doors were currently closed.
The morning weather was so rough and windy and so dark as only those depressing British winters could be.
A lone lamppost shone its weak orange glow onto the wet road, its dim amber light slashed by the pelting rain……casting its weak light onto the front of the house.
The orange light reflected off the pooled water on the road, rain drops splashing violently.
The land opposite the house, beyond the road, dipped into a long depression.
Wet and boggy marsh land that rose up to a low ridge that overlooked the house, a ridge bordered by low wild bushes and gorse with a few small thin trees that see sawed in the winter gale
A pair of eyes looked at the lone house in desperation.
The eyes looked hunted, intense and dark; they were the eyes of a predator.
A cold and freezing hand reached up and wiped the heavy water from its face.
A face blasted by rain and wind, a face that was cold and numb.
The eyes went from left to right, reconnoitring the house, trained eyes, behind a trained mind.
The eyes had noted that a bedroom light was on upstairs, the window was curtained, refusing any observer a look inside.
Who would look inside anyway……there was nothing around for miles……
Since the eyes had found the house, no traffic had been observed travelling on the lone road.
The road serviced two nearby towns of medium size, since the building of a new A road a few years ago, this road was little used.
The A road between Ashdon and Benton was now quicker and safer to use.
A light or lights…… illuminated a room on the ground floor;again a heavy curtain covered the living room window and therefore denied anyone a view inside.
The eyes watched, and although in great discomfort was just patiently observing…… looking for something…..anything……just how the eyes had been trained
But the eyes knew that they could not stay out in this weather for much longer…….hyperthermia was not that far away……even with the constant running…..rain and freezing weather were a killer if not properly attired…..
They would be looking for those eyes very soon……
Any chance for an opportunity to get out of the harsh weather, the eyes had to get under cover and soon….either that or the hyperthermia would set in….. and then death
And the death of the mission….the mission was all
Teeth began to rattle within the tight closed jowl, numb fingers ached as they flexed, and the body began to shudder underneath the black, rain sodden boiler suit.
The feet in the thin socks and rubber plimsolls’ were like blocks of ice…….
The eyes blinked….a hand slapped its face…..
The mission….think of the mission
The eyes twitched…then widened…...there was movement down there.
The brown front door had opened.
The eyes saw a man in a cream colored trench coat, a hat, an umbrella, and a briefcase.
He was standing in the doorway….looking at the terrible weather outside.
The eyes intently watched the man….who looked as if he was contemplating going out at all in the foul weather….with a flourish the man deployed his umbrella….and with that he stepped out into the rain.
The eyes switched from the man…..there was someone behind him.
A woman….there was a woman behind the man.
The distance from the ridge to the house made any details difficult to define……and the watching eyes were being constantly assaulted by gusting water……
But the eyes could make out blonde hair….or light brown…..frizzy curled or wavy permed…..the woman was clutching the collar of a long navy blue dressing gown…after all it was cold, windy and wet…..she was obviously not fully dressed
The eyes contemplated its limited options…...girlfriend or wife….unknown…..however, it appeared she was seeing her man off to work….or something similar.
The eyes waited….hoping the man would leave…..the woman in the dressing gown was obviously not leaving the house yet.
The man and woman were talking…..the rain was belting down….finally the woman extended her head to the man…who kissed her on the cheek….the man moved with his umbrella to the garage and the door…all the time being watched by the woman in the navy blue dressing gown…with extended to her calf’s
The man struggled with the garage door while holding the umbrella at the same time, the briefcase was on the wet floor,and eventually he managed to open the metal door that slid up to the roof……all in defiance of the vile weather
The woman watched….trying not to get too wet in the process.
A red Morris car was inside the garage…a coupe…a family car.
The man collapsed his umbrella…retrieved his briefcase and waved to the woman….who waved back….the man got into his car….headlights came on….the engine noise unheard due to the storm…..windscreen wipers swished back and fore….the red car slowly exited the garage.
Windscreen wipers thrashed the windshield in an attempt to clear the deluge of water from the glass.
A sheen of white misty condensation was evident as the car’s heaters blew still cold air on the equally cold glass.
The car descended to the main road….the car horn honked a farewell and turned right….the woman waving from the front door….the man behind the wheel waved back.
The eyes tracked the car as it proceeded down the road…..eventually all that could be seen was the red tail lights….until finally nothing.
The road was deserted once more
The eyes darted back to the front door….the woman paused on its threshold.
Holding her dressing gown over her chest to stop the wind revealing what lay hidden underneath.
The other hand held the bottom of the gown, stopping the fabric from lifting and revealing her legs or more.
There was a crack of thunder……the woman quickly closed the door to the world outside.
Lightning flashed over the land.
The cramped and freezing body now moved forward……breaking cover fast and moving down the ridge
There was warmth and dryness in that house…..and a woman on her own
A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
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jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
A few Miles Away
It was in fact five miles away……five miles from the bleak house in a bleak land…..in bleak weather
The weather was being just as harsh and brutal here
The windswept and rain lashed B road was elevated, each side of the road was bordered by deep gullies, formed by time due to the water runoff from the peat bog of the moor on which the road traversed.
A nearby road sign declared that Benton was 8 miles away and Ashdon was 10 in the opposite direction.
It was a mundane, undulating and treeless landscape, but not without natural beauty.
Especially for those interested in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes. For those outsiders who expected moor, fog, a mystery and a large man eating hound roaming with menace around the area.
Even with the rain, the road looked a little odd. Something was out of place…not natural.
There were still heavy rubber wheel marks imbedded in the tarmac.
There were two lines of where a vehicle may have swerved back and fore for a long distance, a vehicle that was not under the control of the driver.
The tire marks disappeared over edge the elevated road, the driver apparently losing the battle on who controlled who and what.
On its side, in the roadside ditch, lay a black ford transit van.
The van was silent, smoke emanating from it front engine compartment, no doubt due to spilt oil and lubricants, from the then hot engine.
A rear tire was flat, the probable cause of the accident, combined with the terrible weather, or maybe not.
The black van proudly displayed a royal crest and in white printing it advertised the fact that the vehicle belonged to the fleet owned by HM Prison Benton, Benton Prison or HMP Benton, the notoriously isolated and governments latest maximum security establishment
Not much could be seen of the inside of the damaged vehicle, it was still rather dark.
Heavy rain drummed on the metal skin of the van…..thunder cracked in the sky.
The rear of the van was all metal sided.
One could just discern the dark crumpled forms of what may have been two bodies, a driver and a co-driver.
Both had been thrown around like rag dolls during the accident.
Uniformed rag dolls at that.
If someone had jumped onto the side and pulled open a buckled door to investigate, they would have discovered that there was a large hole in the back of the head of the driver…his face was a mess…brain matter was all over the driving compartment.
The co driver had smashed his head into the windscreen, no seat belts had been worn…death had been instant.
In the rear of the van, within the cargo area and behind the meshed metal grill that separated the rear from the front, two wooden benches had been bolted to either side of the vans side walls.
The benches now formed the ceiling and the floor….on opposite sides
On the floor was the uniformed and crumpled body of a female guard
She lay at an odd angle, her smart and peaked female issue cap lay discarded nearby…her thin neck was at an odd angle, too severe on her left shoulder…broken in the crash…maybe?...her startled dead eyes were open, as if in shock or a great surprise had overtaken her…red painted lips on a open mouth..…her black stockinged legs where elevated and akimbo…..her uniform skirt had risen… revealing too much black hosed leg and thigh…enough to reveal that she was wearing black knickers under black tights…..her uniform tunic had also been sifted…as if searching hands had been looking for something……the contents of her issue black leather bag lay all around..…on her slim waist there was a black belt which had incorporated a pistol holster and a handcuff case……the service revolver that it had once held was now missing and so were the silver chrome handcuffs and keys.
.
Also at odds was the set of handcuffs and ankle restraints that were discarded outside the rolled over vehicle.
As if left by someone who had escaped the crash…..maybe?
A set of headlights appeared on the road.
A vehicle was approaching.
A bakery or bread delivery van in fact.
No doubt it was a baker out doing his early morning deliveries. Everyone liked a hot piece of toast and marmalade on a cold rainy morning…yes?
All washed down with a cup of strong tea.
The bread van quickly braked, it wipers swishing back and fore, a man jumped out and peered over the edge of the elevated road.
It was in fact five miles away……five miles from the bleak house in a bleak land…..in bleak weather
The weather was being just as harsh and brutal here
The windswept and rain lashed B road was elevated, each side of the road was bordered by deep gullies, formed by time due to the water runoff from the peat bog of the moor on which the road traversed.
A nearby road sign declared that Benton was 8 miles away and Ashdon was 10 in the opposite direction.
It was a mundane, undulating and treeless landscape, but not without natural beauty.
Especially for those interested in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes. For those outsiders who expected moor, fog, a mystery and a large man eating hound roaming with menace around the area.
Even with the rain, the road looked a little odd. Something was out of place…not natural.
There were still heavy rubber wheel marks imbedded in the tarmac.
There were two lines of where a vehicle may have swerved back and fore for a long distance, a vehicle that was not under the control of the driver.
The tire marks disappeared over edge the elevated road, the driver apparently losing the battle on who controlled who and what.
On its side, in the roadside ditch, lay a black ford transit van.
The van was silent, smoke emanating from it front engine compartment, no doubt due to spilt oil and lubricants, from the then hot engine.
A rear tire was flat, the probable cause of the accident, combined with the terrible weather, or maybe not.
The black van proudly displayed a royal crest and in white printing it advertised the fact that the vehicle belonged to the fleet owned by HM Prison Benton, Benton Prison or HMP Benton, the notoriously isolated and governments latest maximum security establishment
Not much could be seen of the inside of the damaged vehicle, it was still rather dark.
Heavy rain drummed on the metal skin of the van…..thunder cracked in the sky.
The rear of the van was all metal sided.
One could just discern the dark crumpled forms of what may have been two bodies, a driver and a co-driver.
Both had been thrown around like rag dolls during the accident.
Uniformed rag dolls at that.
If someone had jumped onto the side and pulled open a buckled door to investigate, they would have discovered that there was a large hole in the back of the head of the driver…his face was a mess…brain matter was all over the driving compartment.
The co driver had smashed his head into the windscreen, no seat belts had been worn…death had been instant.
In the rear of the van, within the cargo area and behind the meshed metal grill that separated the rear from the front, two wooden benches had been bolted to either side of the vans side walls.
The benches now formed the ceiling and the floor….on opposite sides
On the floor was the uniformed and crumpled body of a female guard
She lay at an odd angle, her smart and peaked female issue cap lay discarded nearby…her thin neck was at an odd angle, too severe on her left shoulder…broken in the crash…maybe?...her startled dead eyes were open, as if in shock or a great surprise had overtaken her…red painted lips on a open mouth..…her black stockinged legs where elevated and akimbo…..her uniform skirt had risen… revealing too much black hosed leg and thigh…enough to reveal that she was wearing black knickers under black tights…..her uniform tunic had also been sifted…as if searching hands had been looking for something……the contents of her issue black leather bag lay all around..…on her slim waist there was a black belt which had incorporated a pistol holster and a handcuff case……the service revolver that it had once held was now missing and so were the silver chrome handcuffs and keys.
.
Also at odds was the set of handcuffs and ankle restraints that were discarded outside the rolled over vehicle.
As if left by someone who had escaped the crash…..maybe?
A set of headlights appeared on the road.
A vehicle was approaching.
A bakery or bread delivery van in fact.
No doubt it was a baker out doing his early morning deliveries. Everyone liked a hot piece of toast and marmalade on a cold rainy morning…yes?
All washed down with a cup of strong tea.
The bread van quickly braked, it wipers swishing back and fore, a man jumped out and peered over the edge of the elevated road.
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
The B Road – A Rest Stop – Towards Ashdon
Again the rain……the storm, was all over the area.
The rest stop was one mile from the house and six miles from the upturned black prison van in the opposite direction towards Benton
The rest stop was designed for hikers…in better weather…..a car park area had been laid out, composed of loose grey gravel.
This would stop parked cars getting bogged down in muddy soil.
A few picnic tables or trestles had been constructed to cater for those who brought a little food – in summer the area would be enjoyable – but not today.
At the rear of the rest stop was squat grey concrete building – marked WC and with two black on white signs proclaiming ‘Ladies’ and ‘Gentlemen’ – the building was a public convenience or toilet – for those in need or just to wash their hands and face….to freshen up a bit…they were actually quite clean and hygienic……probably from lack of traffic and use
Within the rest stop a Police Panda car was parked.
Awash in water and being battered with the wind.
It sat there with its headlights on, as if waiting for a customer.
A white Rover Metro in fact, a small underpowered car, complete with bright orange and yellow stripes along both sides. Emblazoned on the front bonnet or hood in blue where the words POLICE.
The car sat with its engine running, the occupants keeping the heat going so the car windows would not fog up.
Police Constable or PC Eric Porter sat in the driver’s seat.
He was bored already and they were only one hour into their shift.
At least it was warm in the patrol car.
The radio traffic was light; the world had hardly woken up yet….especially on a day like this….who would be in a hurry…sodding weather he thought
He yawned. He fancied a smoke, but he would get drenched outside and his partner would no doubt object to him smoking inside the vehicle, and it was against regulations.
He looked outside the window pane, he grunted, and thought who the hell would know in this dump.
Thinking of his partner he looked to were his passenger’s legs were situated.
He could smell her sweet perfume….the smell of a woman.
His gaze focused upon a nice pair of shapely legs, coated in the thin veneer of black nylon….a rich black with a hint of slate gray……lovely he thought
A set of black knees, pinched close together….White knees under the black nylon……the hem of the black uniform skirt well above, high on the thigh…leading up and further….God…how he loved women in tights.
Well, he guessed they were tights, they were all the rage with girls nowadays…..what with the skirts being so short.
He had a big urge to reach out and feel a black sheathed knee…all soft…..the thin film over flesh….he was starting to get hard in his trousers again…..
‘Stop looking at my legs Eric…again’ said a bored and tired sounding female voice.
Fingers in red nail polish pulled at the black hem of the skirt ……pulling the black fabric down as much as possible.
Eric was embarrassed, from being caught…quite rightly once again…..and realizing the fact that he had been getting hard in the trouser department….again….and it showed with his tight trousers.
It was pain working with her…an aching pain at that.
‘Ah…sorry’ he blurted and as an afterthought ‘Anyway, how come you never want to come out with me for a drink’.
The woman next him sighed ‘You’re not my type Eric…I’ve told you about a dozen times’
Woman Constable or WPC Susan McBride sat in silence…like most of her shift and especially with him, the rat faced runt.
She looked at Eric, a small man in a big uniform…..new to her station, a transfer from London…the big city.
He thought of all us in the country as Village Idiots….you could tell and therefore he was not making himself popular.
He was not good looking….big, strong or tall…..a small dark haired runt…in fact he wore his hair long…..too long for regulations…but so far he was getting away with it…the rumour was he was connected….his uncle was something big in the Met….someone owed his uncle a favour….how the hell did he end up posted to Ashdon??
And all the harassment….the leering….his sly and stolen looks at her body……the continuous offers of a date……she shuddered at the thought of that….the ugly little fucker
Yes, a dozen times was a good estimate, it was definitely getting to be sexual harassment now
It was not just her either……hers was a small Police Station……but Susan had seen him bothering some of the girls in the administration office……and in the WPCs changing room she discovered when chatting to her colleagues going off duty that they too had been approached with lurid suggestions…..
She was contemplating on reporting Eric’s constant harassment….for the sake of them all
But badgering was all it had been …so far…….and some items had gone missing..…small things…ladies things had begun to go astray …….Sheila, another female officer had left a pair of black tights out on a bench overnight, she had forgot to place them back in her locker…..next morning they had gone…..none of the other girls had said they had taken them…..maybe a coincidence….,maybe not she thought …..
Nothing like that had happened before his arrival
Those unwanted advances and him stealing glances at her when he thought that she had not been looking…..or aware
Not looking at her face either….he was always gawping at her legs or chest….especially when she was just wearing her white uniform shirt
She was very conscious that she was rather big busted and the shirt pulled on her bosom …..the fabric pulled very tight….but still…….it made her feel very uncomfortable….it was like he felt he would look better in her clothes than she would…..it was all very unnatural…….
Susan McBride was not a stunner…she had never been chased as such…...but good looking…..Yes……in that wholesome country way…..men were interested in her if she tried
Her brown eyes sparkled…she had good teeth and a great smile...her straight short hair was knotted high on the back of her head as per regulation….
A light pink rose colour lipstick adorned her lips…light gray mascara layered her eyelids….not much makeup…..just enough to still make her feel like a woman.
After all ….she was young …23….her body, although not fat, was not stick thin either…she had a fulsome female figure…..
She wore a dress size 12……..her measurements where 37-30-39…...….she had been blessed with shapely legs, thick thighs and a fully rounded bottom…..her chest and brassiere size was in fact 36C
She gritted her teeth…..later; when she returned to the station she would go and see the Sergeant….
Yes….she would go and see old Sergeant Toby…..he would tell her what to do….
‘Just keep watching the road’ she said….her tone rather rude….like she was pissed off
Eric sighed again oblivious to her reaction ‘Only been one car so far……I’m fucking bored’.
Eric played with a tunic button as he remembered the red Morris car that had passed them about 30 minutes ago.
It had been still nearly dark then. The driver had been doing about 20 mph….so slow and law abiding that Eric had waved at the man in passing and the driver had waved back. Not exactly bandit country around here. It was so boring and backward…..God.
He began to feel anger….if only that bitch at his old station had not reported him…he would not be here now in the Outback of the Police World
‘I am going outside for a smoke’ he said at last.
‘In this’ Susan replied ‘Your Nuts…you’ll get soaked through’
‘I will take the risk’ he replied.
Eric reached behind to the rear seats of the patrol car. He searched for his police issue black rain coat, complete with shoulder numbers. His hand touched the black leather police shoulder bag that belonged to Susan. Her white and black Female Police cap fell on the floor
‘Oi…don’t get it dirty…the stains never come out’ Susan blurted in annoyance.
‘Okay…. okay….keep your hair on’ as he put the female cap back and retrieved his rain coat
Susan heard the commotion and felt the car door open, the small car shook…. there was a rush of wind and rain…..some of it landed on her legs and she felt water on her face
‘Close the soddin door’ she shouted.
She heard the door slam shut.
‘Tit’ she exclaimed
Susan flicked and brushed her skirt and nylon sheathed legs to get rid of the odd drops of rain.
She then pulled down the sun visor which contained on the inside a small mirror.
She checked her makeup.
Not too much as per regulation. She licked her upper lip….eye shadow was okay….she wiped away the rain spots carefully with tissue paper
The Police radio squawked into life ‘Romeo 3 Zero…Come in Over’.
That’s us thought Susan as she reached for the Mic.
‘This is Romeo 3 Zero…..Go ahead Control’ Susan spoke in a controlled slow conversation…as she had been taught in training.
‘All Patrols are to check their areas for anyone suspicious…injured or in distress. There was an RTA (Road Traffic Accident) on the B112....5 miles from Benton heading North out bound from HMP Benton. We suspect a Prison transport went over – 3casualties– Fatal – unknown if they were transporting prisoners…waiting for more info from HMP….the weather is knocking things out – over’
There was a pause ‘Check along your section of B112…..check on any residence and see if the locals have spotted anything….just be aware…this could be something…..or nothing…..just check that the area is quiet and clear - over’
Susan put the Mic to her painted lips…….gripped in her hand….. complete with red finger nails…..and a finger sporting a silver and jade ring…..
‘Roger Control….Romeo3Zero Out’
Susan opened her door ‘Eric …..Come on ...we got a job on’.
Eric was smoking under his raincoat that was over his head…he threw away his damp cigarette and went for the driver’s side.
Eric jumped in and threw his wet jacket on the back seat as Susan filled in the gaps.
The patrol car took off…….it travelled in the direction of the bleak house…….towards the town of Benton…….famous for one thing…….its special prison
Again the rain……the storm, was all over the area.
The rest stop was one mile from the house and six miles from the upturned black prison van in the opposite direction towards Benton
The rest stop was designed for hikers…in better weather…..a car park area had been laid out, composed of loose grey gravel.
This would stop parked cars getting bogged down in muddy soil.
A few picnic tables or trestles had been constructed to cater for those who brought a little food – in summer the area would be enjoyable – but not today.
At the rear of the rest stop was squat grey concrete building – marked WC and with two black on white signs proclaiming ‘Ladies’ and ‘Gentlemen’ – the building was a public convenience or toilet – for those in need or just to wash their hands and face….to freshen up a bit…they were actually quite clean and hygienic……probably from lack of traffic and use
Within the rest stop a Police Panda car was parked.
Awash in water and being battered with the wind.
It sat there with its headlights on, as if waiting for a customer.
A white Rover Metro in fact, a small underpowered car, complete with bright orange and yellow stripes along both sides. Emblazoned on the front bonnet or hood in blue where the words POLICE.
The car sat with its engine running, the occupants keeping the heat going so the car windows would not fog up.
Police Constable or PC Eric Porter sat in the driver’s seat.
He was bored already and they were only one hour into their shift.
At least it was warm in the patrol car.
The radio traffic was light; the world had hardly woken up yet….especially on a day like this….who would be in a hurry…sodding weather he thought
He yawned. He fancied a smoke, but he would get drenched outside and his partner would no doubt object to him smoking inside the vehicle, and it was against regulations.
He looked outside the window pane, he grunted, and thought who the hell would know in this dump.
Thinking of his partner he looked to were his passenger’s legs were situated.
He could smell her sweet perfume….the smell of a woman.
His gaze focused upon a nice pair of shapely legs, coated in the thin veneer of black nylon….a rich black with a hint of slate gray……lovely he thought
A set of black knees, pinched close together….White knees under the black nylon……the hem of the black uniform skirt well above, high on the thigh…leading up and further….God…how he loved women in tights.
Well, he guessed they were tights, they were all the rage with girls nowadays…..what with the skirts being so short.
He had a big urge to reach out and feel a black sheathed knee…all soft…..the thin film over flesh….he was starting to get hard in his trousers again…..
‘Stop looking at my legs Eric…again’ said a bored and tired sounding female voice.
Fingers in red nail polish pulled at the black hem of the skirt ……pulling the black fabric down as much as possible.
Eric was embarrassed, from being caught…quite rightly once again…..and realizing the fact that he had been getting hard in the trouser department….again….and it showed with his tight trousers.
It was pain working with her…an aching pain at that.
‘Ah…sorry’ he blurted and as an afterthought ‘Anyway, how come you never want to come out with me for a drink’.
The woman next him sighed ‘You’re not my type Eric…I’ve told you about a dozen times’
Woman Constable or WPC Susan McBride sat in silence…like most of her shift and especially with him, the rat faced runt.
She looked at Eric, a small man in a big uniform…..new to her station, a transfer from London…the big city.
He thought of all us in the country as Village Idiots….you could tell and therefore he was not making himself popular.
He was not good looking….big, strong or tall…..a small dark haired runt…in fact he wore his hair long…..too long for regulations…but so far he was getting away with it…the rumour was he was connected….his uncle was something big in the Met….someone owed his uncle a favour….how the hell did he end up posted to Ashdon??
And all the harassment….the leering….his sly and stolen looks at her body……the continuous offers of a date……she shuddered at the thought of that….the ugly little fucker
Yes, a dozen times was a good estimate, it was definitely getting to be sexual harassment now
It was not just her either……hers was a small Police Station……but Susan had seen him bothering some of the girls in the administration office……and in the WPCs changing room she discovered when chatting to her colleagues going off duty that they too had been approached with lurid suggestions…..
She was contemplating on reporting Eric’s constant harassment….for the sake of them all
But badgering was all it had been …so far…….and some items had gone missing..…small things…ladies things had begun to go astray …….Sheila, another female officer had left a pair of black tights out on a bench overnight, she had forgot to place them back in her locker…..next morning they had gone…..none of the other girls had said they had taken them…..maybe a coincidence….,maybe not she thought …..
Nothing like that had happened before his arrival
Those unwanted advances and him stealing glances at her when he thought that she had not been looking…..or aware
Not looking at her face either….he was always gawping at her legs or chest….especially when she was just wearing her white uniform shirt
She was very conscious that she was rather big busted and the shirt pulled on her bosom …..the fabric pulled very tight….but still…….it made her feel very uncomfortable….it was like he felt he would look better in her clothes than she would…..it was all very unnatural…….
Susan McBride was not a stunner…she had never been chased as such…...but good looking…..Yes……in that wholesome country way…..men were interested in her if she tried
Her brown eyes sparkled…she had good teeth and a great smile...her straight short hair was knotted high on the back of her head as per regulation….
A light pink rose colour lipstick adorned her lips…light gray mascara layered her eyelids….not much makeup…..just enough to still make her feel like a woman.
After all ….she was young …23….her body, although not fat, was not stick thin either…she had a fulsome female figure…..
She wore a dress size 12……..her measurements where 37-30-39…...….she had been blessed with shapely legs, thick thighs and a fully rounded bottom…..her chest and brassiere size was in fact 36C
She gritted her teeth…..later; when she returned to the station she would go and see the Sergeant….
Yes….she would go and see old Sergeant Toby…..he would tell her what to do….
‘Just keep watching the road’ she said….her tone rather rude….like she was pissed off
Eric sighed again oblivious to her reaction ‘Only been one car so far……I’m fucking bored’.
Eric played with a tunic button as he remembered the red Morris car that had passed them about 30 minutes ago.
It had been still nearly dark then. The driver had been doing about 20 mph….so slow and law abiding that Eric had waved at the man in passing and the driver had waved back. Not exactly bandit country around here. It was so boring and backward…..God.
He began to feel anger….if only that bitch at his old station had not reported him…he would not be here now in the Outback of the Police World
‘I am going outside for a smoke’ he said at last.
‘In this’ Susan replied ‘Your Nuts…you’ll get soaked through’
‘I will take the risk’ he replied.
Eric reached behind to the rear seats of the patrol car. He searched for his police issue black rain coat, complete with shoulder numbers. His hand touched the black leather police shoulder bag that belonged to Susan. Her white and black Female Police cap fell on the floor
‘Oi…don’t get it dirty…the stains never come out’ Susan blurted in annoyance.
‘Okay…. okay….keep your hair on’ as he put the female cap back and retrieved his rain coat
Susan heard the commotion and felt the car door open, the small car shook…. there was a rush of wind and rain…..some of it landed on her legs and she felt water on her face
‘Close the soddin door’ she shouted.
She heard the door slam shut.
‘Tit’ she exclaimed
Susan flicked and brushed her skirt and nylon sheathed legs to get rid of the odd drops of rain.
She then pulled down the sun visor which contained on the inside a small mirror.
She checked her makeup.
Not too much as per regulation. She licked her upper lip….eye shadow was okay….she wiped away the rain spots carefully with tissue paper
The Police radio squawked into life ‘Romeo 3 Zero…Come in Over’.
That’s us thought Susan as she reached for the Mic.
‘This is Romeo 3 Zero…..Go ahead Control’ Susan spoke in a controlled slow conversation…as she had been taught in training.
‘All Patrols are to check their areas for anyone suspicious…injured or in distress. There was an RTA (Road Traffic Accident) on the B112....5 miles from Benton heading North out bound from HMP Benton. We suspect a Prison transport went over – 3casualties– Fatal – unknown if they were transporting prisoners…waiting for more info from HMP….the weather is knocking things out – over’
There was a pause ‘Check along your section of B112…..check on any residence and see if the locals have spotted anything….just be aware…this could be something…..or nothing…..just check that the area is quiet and clear - over’
Susan put the Mic to her painted lips…….gripped in her hand….. complete with red finger nails…..and a finger sporting a silver and jade ring…..
‘Roger Control….Romeo3Zero Out’
Susan opened her door ‘Eric …..Come on ...we got a job on’.
Eric was smoking under his raincoat that was over his head…he threw away his damp cigarette and went for the driver’s side.
Eric jumped in and threw his wet jacket on the back seat as Susan filled in the gaps.
The patrol car took off…….it travelled in the direction of the bleak house…….towards the town of Benton…….famous for one thing…….its special prison
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
London – The Firm - SIS
Captain Paul Joyce sat at his desk.
A Captain not in a uniform but wearing a dark suit and a black tie, all complimented with shiny shoes and a crisp white shirt. His close cropped hair either labelled him as Police or Armed Forces – in this case it was the Army.
He was duty officer that day.
He was bored reading a newspaper, sitting in his non descript bland government attired office – only two hours left before his shift ended. He was also enjoying a cigarette – Benson & Hedges in fact
He was leafing through the paper – more IRA outrages, oil shortages and the threat of nuclear extermination….. the usual buff…..oh….and plenty of photographs of scantily clad ladies with their tits on display …..just enough to keep the plebs happy he supposed
He was about to fling the paper into a waste basket in disgust when the red phone rang.
He paused….got his head together and lifted the receiver
‘OOD Joyce Speaking’
He listened ….he did not make notes…..he confirmed the message and put the receiver down.
He opened a red folder …..leafed through pages to find the code he had just been told…..he found the code that corresponded to a phone number….. he dialled the number and waited ….finally someone answered.
‘OOD Joyce Sir….Code Red Flash 77 Oscar Tango – Repeat Code Red Flash 77 Oscar Tango’
Captain Joyce received the verbal confirmation and put the red receiver back in its cradle.
Many floors up….nearly at the top of the Fortress like building…..a liver spotted hand tapped its desk…..fingers playing on the well worn green leather top.
The fingers moved to the blue phone that sat next to the recently used red one…..a number was pressed…..finally someone answered
‘Ah!…..at last…..this is Barraclough….get me Taggart and Maze……I want them in my office ASAP…...like now…wherever they are…..we have a Section D….‘
The blue receiver went back into its cradle………….the fingers began to drum on the oak desk once again.
Captain Paul Joyce sat at his desk.
A Captain not in a uniform but wearing a dark suit and a black tie, all complimented with shiny shoes and a crisp white shirt. His close cropped hair either labelled him as Police or Armed Forces – in this case it was the Army.
He was duty officer that day.
He was bored reading a newspaper, sitting in his non descript bland government attired office – only two hours left before his shift ended. He was also enjoying a cigarette – Benson & Hedges in fact
He was leafing through the paper – more IRA outrages, oil shortages and the threat of nuclear extermination….. the usual buff…..oh….and plenty of photographs of scantily clad ladies with their tits on display …..just enough to keep the plebs happy he supposed
He was about to fling the paper into a waste basket in disgust when the red phone rang.
He paused….got his head together and lifted the receiver
‘OOD Joyce Speaking’
He listened ….he did not make notes…..he confirmed the message and put the receiver down.
He opened a red folder …..leafed through pages to find the code he had just been told…..he found the code that corresponded to a phone number….. he dialled the number and waited ….finally someone answered.
‘OOD Joyce Sir….Code Red Flash 77 Oscar Tango – Repeat Code Red Flash 77 Oscar Tango’
Captain Joyce received the verbal confirmation and put the red receiver back in its cradle.
Many floors up….nearly at the top of the Fortress like building…..a liver spotted hand tapped its desk…..fingers playing on the well worn green leather top.
The fingers moved to the blue phone that sat next to the recently used red one…..a number was pressed…..finally someone answered
‘Ah!…..at last…..this is Barraclough….get me Taggart and Maze……I want them in my office ASAP…...like now…wherever they are…..we have a Section D….‘
The blue receiver went back into its cradle………….the fingers began to drum on the oak desk once again.
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
The Bleak House
Eric drove along the B112, towards Benton, the little white Police cars windscreen wipers were doing overtime due to the volume of water being dispensed by the heavens.
‘This is supposed to let up later’ he bellowed
Susan ignored him.
The road was deserted, as it should be in this weather, and she supposed that most of the traffic was on the new A road, Benton Police watched over that.
The two Police Officers drove along in silence. There were no updates via the vehicle radio.
Deep inside Eric pissed off
That soddin smart arse bitch Susan….Susan Fucking McBride…….she thought she was whiter than white that one…
Bossy and stuck up Bitch!!
Who did she think she was?
She was giving him bleeding orders like Lady Muck or something….not good enough for him though…..refused his offers of a slap up meal and a few drinks….a little rough and tumble
God though…..he wanted to bang her so bad…and a little more…..he wanted to play with her undies….get em off….run those no doubt silly and lacy frillies and those nylons through his hands….touch them……taste them….nice and warm like……
Eric Porter was not a well young man……..
Thick country bumpkin he thought….him being a city man…he had connections back there, a bit of clought………he would love to bring her down a peg or too…..show her a little respect
But Eric knew he had to watch his step…..he was on thin ice and he knew it
He was on his final warning as far as women were concerned.
That’s how he got transferred to this dump in the first place. A little too fresh with his hands they said….and that accusation about ladies underwear and clothing going missing from their Locker Room. That was a close one…..but boy…..it was well worth it in the long run…….
He took a quick peek at Susan’s legs and black skirt…
Yeah he thought…..her gear would fit him……a little tight maybe in certain places…..places where her clothes were not designed or intended to be in the first place……he would love that
He quickly averted his lustful gaze……
But in today’s Police Force they had to keep Personnel matters confidential …..Human rights…….that was bullshit…..it was his uncle, the commissioner who pulled his chestnuts out of the fire on that one….. but it worked for him…… as this new lot knew nothing about him and his secret ways….otherwise they would never have teamed him up with a woman
It was not fair he thought……even though he was a copper it appeared no woman was interested in him…..they were all sluts and bitches when it came down to the bare bones of the matter…….
Susan sat there…taking in her surroundings…..she was In total ignorance of Eric’s carnal and secret desires….those desires being his perverted and abnormal interest in what she wore……and not just in her choice of outer clothing either…..
Susan had no idea of the potential danger she was in…..and she was alone with him……
She had made the same mistake as others who had encountered him before…...
The error was in treating this freaky and dorky looking specimen as being harmless……a standing joke, as had all the girls at the station who had laughed at him behind his back…….some directly to his face…….
How the hell he had got to be a police officer in the first place beggared belief……she could not understand it
He was just a small, pathetic man trying to look and talk big in a uniform…
She had heard it all before from men and she was not adverse to the idea of having a fling now and again…….with the right person and the right rank that is…….not with this turd though…….and his obvious obsession for her legs and breasts……it was too much
The Freak would just need watching…..that was all…..or that was all she thought was needed……
She was very confident that she could handle the likes of this twerp anytime…..let him try and touch her up……just let him try
Both their secret musing was suddenly interrupted…….the vocal silence was over…….
Susan spotted the house first, as Eric was concentrating on the road ahead… all wipers, mist and rain…..she had saw a building to her left
‘Pull up;let’s check that all is fine’.
She grabbed the radio Mic asking for any updates – none – ‘Roger Out’
Eric pulled over, near the road that led to the garage.
The rain was still coming down hard and fast but the wind had died off a little. There was yet hope for the day.
Both officers retrieved their raincoats and service caps from the back seat of the small and typically unpractical European patrol car
‘Looks Dead ‘said Eric
‘Well let’s not hope no one is actually dead ‘negative twat thought Susan
Susan rolled her mascara touched eye lids….and hissed through her round lips…..
Once again she had noted Eric watching her ample chest expand below her tunic as she struggled into her rain jacket.
He was still looking when she set her service cap pertly onto her neatly hair pinned head.
A tightly knotted black scrunchie also helped to contain her naturally long black hair in place, as per regulation; exposing a fine neck….with gold studded ear lobes.
He was always watching her…..getting tips on dressing up she supposed, she had her suspicions about him by now….as women generally do
Both of them exited the car….just normal looking beat Bobbies on patrol….. and due to the awful weather they moved as quickly as possible………
Susan opened and entered the garden through the small Iron Gate
Susan looked behind and observed the area….like she had been trained to do before entering a property……
Eric was just gawping looking gormless and getting wet……..
Across the road the land was elevated, dominated by a small ridge……..sky lined by small trees and brush…….
Behind the house there appeared to be just the flat and bleak expanse of the desolate Moor.
It was an austere and lonely place for someone to live thought Susan……must be cheap though she thought as a possible excuse………what with the prices of property nowadays…..she rented a small flat…….
They were both huddled over from the rain as both officers arrived at the doorstep.
Susan grimaced as felt her stocking layered legs getting wet from the rain, her polished dress shoes getting splattered with dirty rainwater.
Susan knocked on the door; there appeared to be no electronic bell although she had noticed a light on at the front room, and so maybe someone was home
She knocked again on the brown wooden door;using the faded brass knocker.
No one answered so she knocked again, harder this time, slamming the knocker down.
Eric was standing off to one side, shoulders hunched up and his cap dripping.
He looked at a nearby drainpipe on the wall.
‘This drain pipe is all cracked…coming away from the wall’ he said
‘So what….what are you…the local builder’ said Susan. looking more annoyed than ever.
There was the sound of a latch being moved behind the door.
‘If it’s not secured soon the whole trough will come down’ whined Eric
‘Don’t pull it ‘cried Susan in alarm
Just as she said that Eric yanked the pipe.
As the door opened the water trough along the roof split….. Just above the luckless Susan who was standing directly below.
Like an artificial waterfall, icy cold water cascaded down in a heavy torrent…….the pipe had been blocked as well as split…….a lot of rainwater had accumulated……
WPC Susan McBride was drenched head to foot as if she had dived into a swimming pool.
At just that moment a woman opened the brown door, a white towel wrapped around her head, turban style.... clutching the collar of a dark blue dressing gown.
Susan, totally drenched, her service cap flattened by the icy deluge….her hair and makeup a mess….looked daggers at Eric…..she was close to punching him…..
‘You Burke’ she hissed.
Eric stammered ‘I…I…Eh’
‘Can I help you’ enquired a soft female voice.
Susan…looking like a drowned poodle…..with mascara running down her cheeks she bravely attempted a sense of bravado and authority…….although she did not quite feel it….. Bloody Eric…..the clown…..she lifted the crooked peak of her cap which had slid out of place……
She could see better now…….Susan looked back to the woman who had opened the door……
‘Sorry to disturb you Madam….but there has been a serious accident further up this road…a Government vehicle….Prison Service in fact ….is everything okay with you…have you seen anything or anyone suspicious’ said Susan
The woman, a rather pretty one at that thought Eric; his eyes were roving already, looked confused for a moment
‘I cannot hear you very well, with all this rain, wind and what not’, she paused, her accent rather clipped, a little old fashioned
Eric drove along the B112, towards Benton, the little white Police cars windscreen wipers were doing overtime due to the volume of water being dispensed by the heavens.
‘This is supposed to let up later’ he bellowed
Susan ignored him.
The road was deserted, as it should be in this weather, and she supposed that most of the traffic was on the new A road, Benton Police watched over that.
The two Police Officers drove along in silence. There were no updates via the vehicle radio.
Deep inside Eric pissed off
That soddin smart arse bitch Susan….Susan Fucking McBride…….she thought she was whiter than white that one…
Bossy and stuck up Bitch!!
Who did she think she was?
She was giving him bleeding orders like Lady Muck or something….not good enough for him though…..refused his offers of a slap up meal and a few drinks….a little rough and tumble
God though…..he wanted to bang her so bad…and a little more…..he wanted to play with her undies….get em off….run those no doubt silly and lacy frillies and those nylons through his hands….touch them……taste them….nice and warm like……
Eric Porter was not a well young man……..
Thick country bumpkin he thought….him being a city man…he had connections back there, a bit of clought………he would love to bring her down a peg or too…..show her a little respect
But Eric knew he had to watch his step…..he was on thin ice and he knew it
He was on his final warning as far as women were concerned.
That’s how he got transferred to this dump in the first place. A little too fresh with his hands they said….and that accusation about ladies underwear and clothing going missing from their Locker Room. That was a close one…..but boy…..it was well worth it in the long run…….
He took a quick peek at Susan’s legs and black skirt…
Yeah he thought…..her gear would fit him……a little tight maybe in certain places…..places where her clothes were not designed or intended to be in the first place……he would love that
He quickly averted his lustful gaze……
But in today’s Police Force they had to keep Personnel matters confidential …..Human rights…….that was bullshit…..it was his uncle, the commissioner who pulled his chestnuts out of the fire on that one….. but it worked for him…… as this new lot knew nothing about him and his secret ways….otherwise they would never have teamed him up with a woman
It was not fair he thought……even though he was a copper it appeared no woman was interested in him…..they were all sluts and bitches when it came down to the bare bones of the matter…….
Susan sat there…taking in her surroundings…..she was In total ignorance of Eric’s carnal and secret desires….those desires being his perverted and abnormal interest in what she wore……and not just in her choice of outer clothing either…..
Susan had no idea of the potential danger she was in…..and she was alone with him……
She had made the same mistake as others who had encountered him before…...
The error was in treating this freaky and dorky looking specimen as being harmless……a standing joke, as had all the girls at the station who had laughed at him behind his back…….some directly to his face…….
How the hell he had got to be a police officer in the first place beggared belief……she could not understand it
He was just a small, pathetic man trying to look and talk big in a uniform…
She had heard it all before from men and she was not adverse to the idea of having a fling now and again…….with the right person and the right rank that is…….not with this turd though…….and his obvious obsession for her legs and breasts……it was too much
The Freak would just need watching…..that was all…..or that was all she thought was needed……
She was very confident that she could handle the likes of this twerp anytime…..let him try and touch her up……just let him try
Both their secret musing was suddenly interrupted…….the vocal silence was over…….
Susan spotted the house first, as Eric was concentrating on the road ahead… all wipers, mist and rain…..she had saw a building to her left
‘Pull up;let’s check that all is fine’.
She grabbed the radio Mic asking for any updates – none – ‘Roger Out’
Eric pulled over, near the road that led to the garage.
The rain was still coming down hard and fast but the wind had died off a little. There was yet hope for the day.
Both officers retrieved their raincoats and service caps from the back seat of the small and typically unpractical European patrol car
‘Looks Dead ‘said Eric
‘Well let’s not hope no one is actually dead ‘negative twat thought Susan
Susan rolled her mascara touched eye lids….and hissed through her round lips…..
Once again she had noted Eric watching her ample chest expand below her tunic as she struggled into her rain jacket.
He was still looking when she set her service cap pertly onto her neatly hair pinned head.
A tightly knotted black scrunchie also helped to contain her naturally long black hair in place, as per regulation; exposing a fine neck….with gold studded ear lobes.
He was always watching her…..getting tips on dressing up she supposed, she had her suspicions about him by now….as women generally do
Both of them exited the car….just normal looking beat Bobbies on patrol….. and due to the awful weather they moved as quickly as possible………
Susan opened and entered the garden through the small Iron Gate
Susan looked behind and observed the area….like she had been trained to do before entering a property……
Eric was just gawping looking gormless and getting wet……..
Across the road the land was elevated, dominated by a small ridge……..sky lined by small trees and brush…….
Behind the house there appeared to be just the flat and bleak expanse of the desolate Moor.
It was an austere and lonely place for someone to live thought Susan……must be cheap though she thought as a possible excuse………what with the prices of property nowadays…..she rented a small flat…….
They were both huddled over from the rain as both officers arrived at the doorstep.
Susan grimaced as felt her stocking layered legs getting wet from the rain, her polished dress shoes getting splattered with dirty rainwater.
Susan knocked on the door; there appeared to be no electronic bell although she had noticed a light on at the front room, and so maybe someone was home
She knocked again on the brown wooden door;using the faded brass knocker.
No one answered so she knocked again, harder this time, slamming the knocker down.
Eric was standing off to one side, shoulders hunched up and his cap dripping.
He looked at a nearby drainpipe on the wall.
‘This drain pipe is all cracked…coming away from the wall’ he said
‘So what….what are you…the local builder’ said Susan. looking more annoyed than ever.
There was the sound of a latch being moved behind the door.
‘If it’s not secured soon the whole trough will come down’ whined Eric
‘Don’t pull it ‘cried Susan in alarm
Just as she said that Eric yanked the pipe.
As the door opened the water trough along the roof split….. Just above the luckless Susan who was standing directly below.
Like an artificial waterfall, icy cold water cascaded down in a heavy torrent…….the pipe had been blocked as well as split…….a lot of rainwater had accumulated……
WPC Susan McBride was drenched head to foot as if she had dived into a swimming pool.
At just that moment a woman opened the brown door, a white towel wrapped around her head, turban style.... clutching the collar of a dark blue dressing gown.
Susan, totally drenched, her service cap flattened by the icy deluge….her hair and makeup a mess….looked daggers at Eric…..she was close to punching him…..
‘You Burke’ she hissed.
Eric stammered ‘I…I…Eh’
‘Can I help you’ enquired a soft female voice.
Susan…looking like a drowned poodle…..with mascara running down her cheeks she bravely attempted a sense of bravado and authority…….although she did not quite feel it….. Bloody Eric…..the clown…..she lifted the crooked peak of her cap which had slid out of place……
She could see better now…….Susan looked back to the woman who had opened the door……
‘Sorry to disturb you Madam….but there has been a serious accident further up this road…a Government vehicle….Prison Service in fact ….is everything okay with you…have you seen anything or anyone suspicious’ said Susan
The woman, a rather pretty one at that thought Eric; his eyes were roving already, looked confused for a moment
‘I cannot hear you very well, with all this rain, wind and what not’, she paused, her accent rather clipped, a little old fashioned
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
‘Please come in out of the weather’ offered the woman
She opened the door fully, letting the two police officers in, one wetter than the other, who hurried past her into the hall.
As the two police officers shuffled, dripping past the woman in the dressing gown with a towel wrapped around her head…… a thin smile creased those thin lips as she closed the door behind them all
They all walked into the living room.
The woman in the blue dressing gown, which was long, walked over to the bay windows….the curtains were still closed…the woman switched on a lamp.
It was warm in there, a great fire blazed in the grate, no gas fire was on and the radiators were cold.
The woman followed the officers ‘Sorry …I could not hear you….something about going to Prison’
‘Not quite Madam….’ Susan started to explain but was interrupted
‘Mrs.….’ smiled the woman ‘Mrs.Slade….Angela actually’
‘Well Mrs.Slade’ she continued ‘a prison transport van came off the road further up from you, not far away…not sure on who if anyone was being transported….we are checking the area to see if everything is okay’
‘Oh’ said Mrs.Slade
‘I Hope we are all safe….not killed in our beds…or worse….that sort of thing you read in those trashy newspapers lately’, she looked at Eric when she had said that, he had smirked back.
Mrs.Slade sat down on the sofa, perplexed with concern ‘My husband has gone to work….and this place can be rather isolated’.
Eric’s eyes roamed over the woman.
His mouth became a little dry at the sight….his pulse quickened
She was a looker alright….even with a towel on her head and only wearing a dressing gown.….her face had makeup on……must be getting ready to go out he surmised
She had crossed her legs in the blue terry cloth robe …the robe opened….the fluffy gown looked rather short on her……..she clasped the robe tight over her chest……..and over her thighs…..attempting to hide her legs
Eric could just see her shapely legs, very nice indeed……that drove him mad
Questions flashed through his mind…..was she wearing knickers and if so what style….what colour
No sign of a bra………..
Although he was wet he started to feel hot all of a sudden…….
Eric looked over at her feet on those crossed over legs….
Slim feet shod in open toed fluffy white ladies slippers…..odd choice he thought…..a very conservative choice for a younger woman….they looked like something his mother wore….he was somehow disconcerted with that thought…..even for Eric.
‘This is terrible news….I was going out to town, do a little shopping for when Harry gets home…..I suppose it’s not safe now to go walking about’ declared Angela…sounding rather vulnerable.
Mrs Slade noted Eric looking at her legs and adjusted the dressing gown to cover them up more….pretending not to notice
Susan did notice…….
‘It’s okay …Mrs Slade…..we are there to protect you’ blurted Eric boastfully
Susan finally reacted; angry at last….God give her strength she thought…….and patience not to hit him…..
‘Shut up you clown’ she hissed
Eric opened his mouth to protest….saw the look in his colleague’s eyes and quickly shut his mouth…..
Angela Slade slyly noted the bitter animosity between the two Police officers……
Susan assessed Mrs Slade…..obviously a rather vulnerable, a little doe eyed and pretty housewife….all rather normal…at home while the husband worked during the day……she had never seen her before in Ashdon….but yet again she had never visited this house either…..never really noticed it actually when she drove along this road……
As in needing protection……well
Mrs Slade needed more protection from Eric more than anyone or anything else.
Susan decided to calm any concern, the woman looked normal enough and she had been disturbed getting dressed by the looks of it…..it was rather early in the morning
‘We obviously disturbed you for nothing…..probably just a normal but very tragic accident….there’s no axe murderer running around …honest, so just relax and make sure your doors and windows are secure…..what time is ah!..Harry home’ Susan asked
‘Around five I should imagine’ said Mrs Slade.
Susan enquired ‘Where does your husband work…...is it far’
‘In Benton….he’s a solicitor’ replied Mrs Slade
‘Benton……bit far, Ashdon is closer. How were you to go shopping…surely you were not walking in this weather….and the bus service is a little sparse if remember rightly’ said Susan…her interest peeked a little at this revelation
‘Of course not……a friend was coming over later to pick me up….I was in the process of getting ready when you knocked on the door’ Mrs Slade paused….indicating to Susan that she had asked a stupid question ‘ I would like to finish getting dressed at some point as well’…..the tone infused with annoyance
Susan paused and looked around the room
‘No offence Mrs Slade…but this house….off the beat and track a bit…..don’t you get a little bored….lonely…..the both of you I mean’
The conversation was disrupted by a clanging sound….metal on metal….not really loud but enough to be heard.
All three looked up at the white painted ceiling……
‘Coming from the pipes’ said Eric, who was pointing to a thick radiator pipe that ran up and down one corner of the living room…..’Must be a blockage there’
Susan sneered ‘Don’t go pulling that one….we will all drown you pillock’
‘Hey’ cried Eric…..being insulted in front of a good looking woman…..he had started to turn red
‘Yes’ sighed Mrs Slade, interrupting these two
‘The plumbing as a lot to be desired…it’s the heating….blocked again, like you stated constable….that’s why the radiators are off and the log fire is blazing……goes right upstairs to the main bedroom actually…..I will go up and give it a bang soon ‘ said Mrs Slade, looking up at the ceiling in annoyance
‘And Constable’ looking at Susan ‘it answers your question…..the place is rented and cheap…..what with house prices nowadays….pie in the sky they are….we are not wealthy…and ‘Mrs Slade whispered to Susan only ‘if you want a family….a place that is rarely disturbed…nice and peaceful…then this place certainly caters for that…..especially in winter, if you know what I mean’.
Susan smiled……this was a woman on woman moment
‘Yes….I know what you mean’
Susan had an image of being nice and warm…tucked up in bed….with a good man on top of her….the wind howling outside……the rain battering the window pain…..
And just then she sneezed…..not once……two loud bellows followed quickly in a row
Susan’s body gave in involuntary shudder……..
Mrs Slade stood up ‘Bless you dear……’
‘Why…you are soaked through and must be freezing …..You will catch your death of cold’
The housewife looked at Eric ‘I suppose Constable you can make a cup of Tea….without spilling any’
Eric smiled ‘Ooohh...…you bet I can…..I could murder one’…..looking for any reason to stay around and catch a glimpse of Mrs Slade’s body……
Mrs Slade blanched at the mention of the word murder, a red fingered hand going to her red lipstick mouth.’ ‘I hope not Constable…….murder indeed’
Susan jumped in
‘Wrong choice of words…again….Eric put the kettle on…do you mind Mrs.Slade….I could do with one…..I do not want to catch flu’
‘Oh no….help yourself…the kitchen is off to the left and down the hall’ she was looking at Eric
They all looked up at the ceiling
It was that the metallic sound on the pipes again…..the banging more vigorous this time
‘I will sort those pipes out when I’m up there….once and for all’ said Mrs Slade, looking annoyed.
She looked at the police constables again and smiled ‘Can be hell at night you know…..wakes you up at all hours’
‘Come on Eric…Tea’ ordered Mrs Slade
‘You stay there dear’ she talking to Susan ‘Get up to that fire and warm up’
‘Okay’ said Susan…..after all Mrs Slade seemed like a decent sort….kind enough……she appeared all normal……so did the household
Eric followed the woman out into the hall, trying to watch her arse under the dressing gown…….
Susan McBride called after them
She opened the door fully, letting the two police officers in, one wetter than the other, who hurried past her into the hall.
As the two police officers shuffled, dripping past the woman in the dressing gown with a towel wrapped around her head…… a thin smile creased those thin lips as she closed the door behind them all
They all walked into the living room.
The woman in the blue dressing gown, which was long, walked over to the bay windows….the curtains were still closed…the woman switched on a lamp.
It was warm in there, a great fire blazed in the grate, no gas fire was on and the radiators were cold.
The woman followed the officers ‘Sorry …I could not hear you….something about going to Prison’
‘Not quite Madam….’ Susan started to explain but was interrupted
‘Mrs.….’ smiled the woman ‘Mrs.Slade….Angela actually’
‘Well Mrs.Slade’ she continued ‘a prison transport van came off the road further up from you, not far away…not sure on who if anyone was being transported….we are checking the area to see if everything is okay’
‘Oh’ said Mrs.Slade
‘I Hope we are all safe….not killed in our beds…or worse….that sort of thing you read in those trashy newspapers lately’, she looked at Eric when she had said that, he had smirked back.
Mrs.Slade sat down on the sofa, perplexed with concern ‘My husband has gone to work….and this place can be rather isolated’.
Eric’s eyes roamed over the woman.
His mouth became a little dry at the sight….his pulse quickened
She was a looker alright….even with a towel on her head and only wearing a dressing gown.….her face had makeup on……must be getting ready to go out he surmised
She had crossed her legs in the blue terry cloth robe …the robe opened….the fluffy gown looked rather short on her……..she clasped the robe tight over her chest……..and over her thighs…..attempting to hide her legs
Eric could just see her shapely legs, very nice indeed……that drove him mad
Questions flashed through his mind…..was she wearing knickers and if so what style….what colour
No sign of a bra………..
Although he was wet he started to feel hot all of a sudden…….
Eric looked over at her feet on those crossed over legs….
Slim feet shod in open toed fluffy white ladies slippers…..odd choice he thought…..a very conservative choice for a younger woman….they looked like something his mother wore….he was somehow disconcerted with that thought…..even for Eric.
‘This is terrible news….I was going out to town, do a little shopping for when Harry gets home…..I suppose it’s not safe now to go walking about’ declared Angela…sounding rather vulnerable.
Mrs Slade noted Eric looking at her legs and adjusted the dressing gown to cover them up more….pretending not to notice
Susan did notice…….
‘It’s okay …Mrs Slade…..we are there to protect you’ blurted Eric boastfully
Susan finally reacted; angry at last….God give her strength she thought…….and patience not to hit him…..
‘Shut up you clown’ she hissed
Eric opened his mouth to protest….saw the look in his colleague’s eyes and quickly shut his mouth…..
Angela Slade slyly noted the bitter animosity between the two Police officers……
Susan assessed Mrs Slade…..obviously a rather vulnerable, a little doe eyed and pretty housewife….all rather normal…at home while the husband worked during the day……she had never seen her before in Ashdon….but yet again she had never visited this house either…..never really noticed it actually when she drove along this road……
As in needing protection……well
Mrs Slade needed more protection from Eric more than anyone or anything else.
Susan decided to calm any concern, the woman looked normal enough and she had been disturbed getting dressed by the looks of it…..it was rather early in the morning
‘We obviously disturbed you for nothing…..probably just a normal but very tragic accident….there’s no axe murderer running around …honest, so just relax and make sure your doors and windows are secure…..what time is ah!..Harry home’ Susan asked
‘Around five I should imagine’ said Mrs Slade.
Susan enquired ‘Where does your husband work…...is it far’
‘In Benton….he’s a solicitor’ replied Mrs Slade
‘Benton……bit far, Ashdon is closer. How were you to go shopping…surely you were not walking in this weather….and the bus service is a little sparse if remember rightly’ said Susan…her interest peeked a little at this revelation
‘Of course not……a friend was coming over later to pick me up….I was in the process of getting ready when you knocked on the door’ Mrs Slade paused….indicating to Susan that she had asked a stupid question ‘ I would like to finish getting dressed at some point as well’…..the tone infused with annoyance
Susan paused and looked around the room
‘No offence Mrs Slade…but this house….off the beat and track a bit…..don’t you get a little bored….lonely…..the both of you I mean’
The conversation was disrupted by a clanging sound….metal on metal….not really loud but enough to be heard.
All three looked up at the white painted ceiling……
‘Coming from the pipes’ said Eric, who was pointing to a thick radiator pipe that ran up and down one corner of the living room…..’Must be a blockage there’
Susan sneered ‘Don’t go pulling that one….we will all drown you pillock’
‘Hey’ cried Eric…..being insulted in front of a good looking woman…..he had started to turn red
‘Yes’ sighed Mrs Slade, interrupting these two
‘The plumbing as a lot to be desired…it’s the heating….blocked again, like you stated constable….that’s why the radiators are off and the log fire is blazing……goes right upstairs to the main bedroom actually…..I will go up and give it a bang soon ‘ said Mrs Slade, looking up at the ceiling in annoyance
‘And Constable’ looking at Susan ‘it answers your question…..the place is rented and cheap…..what with house prices nowadays….pie in the sky they are….we are not wealthy…and ‘Mrs Slade whispered to Susan only ‘if you want a family….a place that is rarely disturbed…nice and peaceful…then this place certainly caters for that…..especially in winter, if you know what I mean’.
Susan smiled……this was a woman on woman moment
‘Yes….I know what you mean’
Susan had an image of being nice and warm…tucked up in bed….with a good man on top of her….the wind howling outside……the rain battering the window pain…..
And just then she sneezed…..not once……two loud bellows followed quickly in a row
Susan’s body gave in involuntary shudder……..
Mrs Slade stood up ‘Bless you dear……’
‘Why…you are soaked through and must be freezing …..You will catch your death of cold’
The housewife looked at Eric ‘I suppose Constable you can make a cup of Tea….without spilling any’
Eric smiled ‘Ooohh...…you bet I can…..I could murder one’…..looking for any reason to stay around and catch a glimpse of Mrs Slade’s body……
Mrs Slade blanched at the mention of the word murder, a red fingered hand going to her red lipstick mouth.’ ‘I hope not Constable…….murder indeed’
Susan jumped in
‘Wrong choice of words…again….Eric put the kettle on…do you mind Mrs.Slade….I could do with one…..I do not want to catch flu’
‘Oh no….help yourself…the kitchen is off to the left and down the hall’ she was looking at Eric
They all looked up at the ceiling
It was that the metallic sound on the pipes again…..the banging more vigorous this time
‘I will sort those pipes out when I’m up there….once and for all’ said Mrs Slade, looking annoyed.
She looked at the police constables again and smiled ‘Can be hell at night you know…..wakes you up at all hours’
‘Come on Eric…Tea’ ordered Mrs Slade
‘You stay there dear’ she talking to Susan ‘Get up to that fire and warm up’
‘Okay’ said Susan…..after all Mrs Slade seemed like a decent sort….kind enough……she appeared all normal……so did the household
Eric followed the woman out into the hall, trying to watch her arse under the dressing gown…….
Susan McBride called after them
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
‘We cannot stay long…just a cup of tea…get myself a little dried up after the DIY expert there tried to drown me….make sure you are okay and the house locked up tight…and then we are back on patrol’ Susan sneezed again…..
‘Oh that sounds wonderful……I do appreciate your concern and I will notify your superiors on an excellent job….thank you Susan’ and Mrs Slade closed the living room door behind her……
At the same time saying loudly ‘and you stay out of the living room Eric…until you get the all clear from me’
‘Eric….’ She said, once in the hallway ‘You will find the kitchen at the end of the hall…help yourself….go nowhere until I come back’
Eric sauntered into the kitchen to make the tea, muttering under his breath…..not realizing that Mrs Slade was using his Christian name…….
Angela Slade reached the bottom of the staircase that led to the upper floors…..she was on her own now….no smiles…her lips thin, her face serious…....the girl was getting dry…..the man would be making the tea in the kitchen….they were separated now….easy to manipulate……but time was everything.
Mrs Slade paused again…..her hand on the banister corner, ready to mount the stairs…..she had noted the dark chest of drawers near the hat stand……a draw was slightly open….something had jammed it slightly open, whatever it was inside glinted from the light……she quickly opened it…...photographs in frames had been badly stuffed inside…as if in a hurry….or simply discarded….the framed photograph that had jammed the door was that of a mature couple….the woman in the photograph was nothing like her…..both where smiling at the camera…..the frame was pushed in deeper inside and the draw was properly closed this time
A stupid mistake she thought……..but she was rather out of practice
Eric was in the kitchen…..mumbling and talking to him self
The kitchen was rather dated…clean, but the utilities were rather old fashioned…….in his pent up sexual frustration and being in a mood of self pity he had failed to notice that the exterior kitchen door that led to the rather grim rear garden had a broken handle…that and the lock were hanging from their mountings…..this suggested that somebody had forced it…therefore breaking it……and had gained entry to the house by not using a key…….
Eric had missed it……totally
What am I…a bleeding slave to women….he roughly threw the kettle onto the stove…grumbling and throwing tea bags around………….his anger suddenly stopped…….in mid thought he froze……he had noticed something ….some items draped over the cold kitchen radiator….three things in fact that took his interest…..took his interest 100%….
One…was a black lacy woman’sunder wired bra
The second…..a pair of dark brown coffee coloured ladies tights
The third item….was a pair of lacy black ladies knickers…..low bikini’s by the look of them
All he assumed belonged on that lovely body of Mrs Slade…….
His hand was shaking……..
They had been left out to dry out after washing……he knew the score….women always left their undies lying about…..his mouth became even dryer, he licked his lips….he couldn’t help himself…….without thinking his shaky hand reached out
Mrs Slade was now at the top of the upstairs landing, a landing that connected all the upper rooms; she looked over the banister
‘How is the fire…nice and warm’ she called out….loudly
A fainter female voice replied ‘Feeling a bit better…thanks Mrs Slade’ came from below…the voice muted as the policewoman had closed the living room door for privacy.
‘Call me Angela….please….you are guests in my house’
The face of Mrs Angela Slade changed….dramatically…… as her hand reached for the bedroom door handle.
Gone was the mask of the stereotypical English housewife…..the fragile soft spoken creature of just before had gone
Instead, her face became tough and menacing…..her eyes were squinted rather than being fully open, round and all innocent like just before……this was the face of a hunter…or the hunted…..the menacing looking housewife gripped the handle on the bedroom door and pulled it down…….
There was a final a furtive look over her shoulder……..making sure that no one was there watching……
Then she slowly pushed open the bedroom door and entered quickly.
The door clicked as it closed behind her.
‘Oh that sounds wonderful……I do appreciate your concern and I will notify your superiors on an excellent job….thank you Susan’ and Mrs Slade closed the living room door behind her……
At the same time saying loudly ‘and you stay out of the living room Eric…until you get the all clear from me’
‘Eric….’ She said, once in the hallway ‘You will find the kitchen at the end of the hall…help yourself….go nowhere until I come back’
Eric sauntered into the kitchen to make the tea, muttering under his breath…..not realizing that Mrs Slade was using his Christian name…….
Angela Slade reached the bottom of the staircase that led to the upper floors…..she was on her own now….no smiles…her lips thin, her face serious…....the girl was getting dry…..the man would be making the tea in the kitchen….they were separated now….easy to manipulate……but time was everything.
Mrs Slade paused again…..her hand on the banister corner, ready to mount the stairs…..she had noted the dark chest of drawers near the hat stand……a draw was slightly open….something had jammed it slightly open, whatever it was inside glinted from the light……she quickly opened it…...photographs in frames had been badly stuffed inside…as if in a hurry….or simply discarded….the framed photograph that had jammed the door was that of a mature couple….the woman in the photograph was nothing like her…..both where smiling at the camera…..the frame was pushed in deeper inside and the draw was properly closed this time
A stupid mistake she thought……..but she was rather out of practice
Eric was in the kitchen…..mumbling and talking to him self
The kitchen was rather dated…clean, but the utilities were rather old fashioned…….in his pent up sexual frustration and being in a mood of self pity he had failed to notice that the exterior kitchen door that led to the rather grim rear garden had a broken handle…that and the lock were hanging from their mountings…..this suggested that somebody had forced it…therefore breaking it……and had gained entry to the house by not using a key…….
Eric had missed it……totally
What am I…a bleeding slave to women….he roughly threw the kettle onto the stove…grumbling and throwing tea bags around………….his anger suddenly stopped…….in mid thought he froze……he had noticed something ….some items draped over the cold kitchen radiator….three things in fact that took his interest…..took his interest 100%….
One…was a black lacy woman’sunder wired bra
The second…..a pair of dark brown coffee coloured ladies tights
The third item….was a pair of lacy black ladies knickers…..low bikini’s by the look of them
All he assumed belonged on that lovely body of Mrs Slade…….
His hand was shaking……..
They had been left out to dry out after washing……he knew the score….women always left their undies lying about…..his mouth became even dryer, he licked his lips….he couldn’t help himself…….without thinking his shaky hand reached out
Mrs Slade was now at the top of the upstairs landing, a landing that connected all the upper rooms; she looked over the banister
‘How is the fire…nice and warm’ she called out….loudly
A fainter female voice replied ‘Feeling a bit better…thanks Mrs Slade’ came from below…the voice muted as the policewoman had closed the living room door for privacy.
‘Call me Angela….please….you are guests in my house’
The face of Mrs Angela Slade changed….dramatically…… as her hand reached for the bedroom door handle.
Gone was the mask of the stereotypical English housewife…..the fragile soft spoken creature of just before had gone
Instead, her face became tough and menacing…..her eyes were squinted rather than being fully open, round and all innocent like just before……this was the face of a hunter…or the hunted…..the menacing looking housewife gripped the handle on the bedroom door and pulled it down…….
There was a final a furtive look over her shoulder……..making sure that no one was there watching……
Then she slowly pushed open the bedroom door and entered quickly.
The door clicked as it closed behind her.
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
Bedroom
The woman who had temporarily assumed the name of Angela Slade closed the bedroom door quickly…...it was a thick heavy wooden door….the old wood providing excellent and good soundproofing…..the latch snapped shut with a resounding click…..
The quick and nippy woman turned the key whereby she heard the reassuring snap as the tumblers rotated and engaged….after all, she did not want to be disturbed by what she intended to do within this rather private room……
Yet the bedroom was not without its own noises…….
There was the resonance of a mattress under duress…..complete with the squeaking of metal bedsprings……and the creaking of stressed wood
The unknown metal on metal staccato heard by all three of them in the living room directly below was more audible within this bed chamber…..it had abruptly stopped when the woman in the dressing gown with the towel wrapped around her head had entered the room……
Likewise the muted mewing moans made by a human voice had also suddenly stopped…..the muted moans had sounded like those probably made by a female……..
The bedroom contained old fashioned and dark wooden furniture, all heavy items…maybe teak or good oak.
The room was dark in shadow….after all, the weather that morning was diabolical, the dawn was struggling to emerge…….the heavy brown curtains were actually open, lace nets acting as a second screen…….one of curtains hung nearly torn from it curtain rail….like it had been pulled away when someone had grabbed at it while at the same time being pulled backwards……
Only one of the bedside lamps had been turned on….resting on the bedside table was a wet and sodden paperback….the lace doily mat was crumpled and soiled…….a broken pair of reading glasses lay on the thick beige carpet……itself sporting a sodden dark stain….on the bedside table was a large glass turned on its side….the glass had once contained water
On the other bedside table was an alarm clock which was also on the floor….next to the broken lamp….
There were Indications that a struggle had taken place within this room……..
Within this rather small area were two large wooden wardrobes which had been positioned right up to the one of the walls, parallel to the double bed…….there would be plenty of natural light from the large single pained window…….if the curtains were open
They were ornate pieces of furniture with large full length oval mirrors set into the doors….designed for a person to fully inspect themselves when dressing
The wardrobe on the right was closed….that one contained clothing for a man
The wardrobe on the left obviously contained a woman’s garments….…it had been opened……its mirrored door had been left ajar.
Its contents looked as if they had been thoroughly rifled through…..a quick and sweeping search, a few hangers were empty…. as if someone was desperately looking for something to wear…..there were dresses, frocks, ladies trousers, blouses and sweaters….all the paraphernalia of being a woman were on display….some of the garments lay strewn on the carpeted floor
Placed below the large bedroom window……its mirror facing the bed…. was a ladies dressing table or boudoir…. ……another ornate vintage and stout wooded affair……a large oval mirror at its centre….the stool was on its side…...a wooden stool with a faded red cushion….two sets of cabinets were built in on each side….complete with three draws with brass handles..…..all the draws were open….
They had once discreetly contained clean, silky satin….or soft cotton……ladies undergarments…….all had once been neatly folded and carefully placed, hidden from view…….the intimate garments were never intended to be crudely examined……
God forbid the garments being interfered with by a strangers hand……alien, prying fingers pulling at soft fabric and elastic……
All now looked ransacked…..various styled and multi coloured female undies lay dumped and discarded…. hanging limp from their respective drawer’s……rifled, creased and spoiled….some of them even lay on the floor…….in various places, as if thrown in frustration……
An assortment of different styled and decorated Brassieres were hanging from their straps….lacy cups hanging over drawers……mixing with the knickers on the carpeted floor…..cardboard boxes advertising Playtex, Triumph and Loveable brand brassieres…….once new, their intimate contents never used…..now empty…..the pristine bra’s joining their older cousins on the floor
A nearby bureau of draws exhibited that they had once held a ladies collections of stockings and tights…..also within where female slips, shiny satin…mainly in black, ivory and white……one a burgundy wine…. waist slips, lacy hemmed and slit up their sides or at the rear….allowing for ease of movement if worn….….there were lacy cups and straps, these were the few full slips, satin and cotton nightdresses, negligees and camisoles……a ladies nightwear
Like the knickers and bra’s……all had been thoroughly searched……inspected and discarded…….
The bedroom looked like it had been burgled……
Set on top of the boudoir were a selection of small boxes…brushes…and pots….a variety of cosmetics lay on its surface waiting to be dabbed and anointed ….a lipstick tube was there, open…an eyeliner…..a mascara pencil……a pot of red nail varnish……hair brushes and clips…….
At the bottom of the double bed was an ottoman style storage box, used to store fresh bedding……draped over this ottoman box was a gray coloured dress…..the skirt of the dress was pleated and it zippered at the back….lying next to the dress was a white satin full slip….a petite and silky soft affair….its halter cups were lacy with a flower design and clam trimmed….the lace trim mirrored the slips hemline….that would have ended above the wearers knee……
On top of both garments lay a pair of ladies tights….tan in shade, around 20 denier…..light in support around on the crotch and tummy……seamed in the middle.….
Also on the ottoman was a brassier hanging limp….bright white and clean…..the bra was fresh, it had smelled of washing detergent and had been deemed as yet unworn by its intended wearer..….its sheer factory machined torso band hung loose, its laundry label very visible….like the thin adjustable shoulder straps, dangling loose…..both lacy white cups had the same design as the nearby slip…...obviously a matching set…..
Next to the bra was an equally bright white satin pair of knickers….bikini in style…low below the belly button…..full backed on a woman’s backside….….the skimpy knickers frontage was sheer and lace……designed with the same floral design as the bra
These clothes had been previously laid out….ready to use by someone…..…all nice and ready to be slipped and snapped on…..squeezed into…..
In fact, these were the choices in outer clothing and underwear that Mrs Angela Slade had intended to dress with that same day…..and doing so in the privacy of her own bedroom……
So why was Angela Slade still undressed…….
The woman standing in the terry cloth dressing gown seemed in no hurry……she made no attempt to remove the bulky dressing own…….…her head wrapped in a towel that was not removed..…she ignored the underwear, tights and dress laid out on the ottoman…..she had plenty of time to slip them on……but she ignored them……..in fact she ignored all the items of clothing strewn around the bedroom……
Why….simple really……she was not Mrs Angela Slade……and all these clothes…..all of it….did not fit her at all…..
We now pan to the large double bed…….
Its bedclothes had been dishevelled …..all thick blankets with white bed sheets……the remains of a bed sheet lay discarded…twisted and ripped apart…..a pillow minus its pillow case lay halfway on the messed up bed
The woman in the dressing gown stood over the bed…looking down….a sinister and mocking grin on her face…a cruel look in her eyes
Looking back up at her were a pair terrified of eyes
The real Mrs Angela Slade was lying flat on her back…..on top of her marital bed.….nothing unusual in that, she normally slept there, and occasionally had sex upon it…….usually within and under its warm and thick bedclothes…..with the lights turned off…….moaning, sliding and squirming in the anonymity, safety and privacy of the darkness….and of course it was her own bedroom…..
Well…she was moaning, sliding and squirming right now……but not in the usual lustful joy of mutual coupling that involved marital intercourse…….
The woman who had temporarily assumed the name of Angela Slade closed the bedroom door quickly…...it was a thick heavy wooden door….the old wood providing excellent and good soundproofing…..the latch snapped shut with a resounding click…..
The quick and nippy woman turned the key whereby she heard the reassuring snap as the tumblers rotated and engaged….after all, she did not want to be disturbed by what she intended to do within this rather private room……
Yet the bedroom was not without its own noises…….
There was the resonance of a mattress under duress…..complete with the squeaking of metal bedsprings……and the creaking of stressed wood
The unknown metal on metal staccato heard by all three of them in the living room directly below was more audible within this bed chamber…..it had abruptly stopped when the woman in the dressing gown with the towel wrapped around her head had entered the room……
Likewise the muted mewing moans made by a human voice had also suddenly stopped…..the muted moans had sounded like those probably made by a female……..
The bedroom contained old fashioned and dark wooden furniture, all heavy items…maybe teak or good oak.
The room was dark in shadow….after all, the weather that morning was diabolical, the dawn was struggling to emerge…….the heavy brown curtains were actually open, lace nets acting as a second screen…….one of curtains hung nearly torn from it curtain rail….like it had been pulled away when someone had grabbed at it while at the same time being pulled backwards……
Only one of the bedside lamps had been turned on….resting on the bedside table was a wet and sodden paperback….the lace doily mat was crumpled and soiled…….a broken pair of reading glasses lay on the thick beige carpet……itself sporting a sodden dark stain….on the bedside table was a large glass turned on its side….the glass had once contained water
On the other bedside table was an alarm clock which was also on the floor….next to the broken lamp….
There were Indications that a struggle had taken place within this room……..
Within this rather small area were two large wooden wardrobes which had been positioned right up to the one of the walls, parallel to the double bed…….there would be plenty of natural light from the large single pained window…….if the curtains were open
They were ornate pieces of furniture with large full length oval mirrors set into the doors….designed for a person to fully inspect themselves when dressing
The wardrobe on the right was closed….that one contained clothing for a man
The wardrobe on the left obviously contained a woman’s garments….…it had been opened……its mirrored door had been left ajar.
Its contents looked as if they had been thoroughly rifled through…..a quick and sweeping search, a few hangers were empty…. as if someone was desperately looking for something to wear…..there were dresses, frocks, ladies trousers, blouses and sweaters….all the paraphernalia of being a woman were on display….some of the garments lay strewn on the carpeted floor
Placed below the large bedroom window……its mirror facing the bed…. was a ladies dressing table or boudoir…. ……another ornate vintage and stout wooded affair……a large oval mirror at its centre….the stool was on its side…...a wooden stool with a faded red cushion….two sets of cabinets were built in on each side….complete with three draws with brass handles..…..all the draws were open….
They had once discreetly contained clean, silky satin….or soft cotton……ladies undergarments…….all had once been neatly folded and carefully placed, hidden from view…….the intimate garments were never intended to be crudely examined……
God forbid the garments being interfered with by a strangers hand……alien, prying fingers pulling at soft fabric and elastic……
All now looked ransacked…..various styled and multi coloured female undies lay dumped and discarded…. hanging limp from their respective drawer’s……rifled, creased and spoiled….some of them even lay on the floor…….in various places, as if thrown in frustration……
An assortment of different styled and decorated Brassieres were hanging from their straps….lacy cups hanging over drawers……mixing with the knickers on the carpeted floor…..cardboard boxes advertising Playtex, Triumph and Loveable brand brassieres…….once new, their intimate contents never used…..now empty…..the pristine bra’s joining their older cousins on the floor
A nearby bureau of draws exhibited that they had once held a ladies collections of stockings and tights…..also within where female slips, shiny satin…mainly in black, ivory and white……one a burgundy wine…. waist slips, lacy hemmed and slit up their sides or at the rear….allowing for ease of movement if worn….….there were lacy cups and straps, these were the few full slips, satin and cotton nightdresses, negligees and camisoles……a ladies nightwear
Like the knickers and bra’s……all had been thoroughly searched……inspected and discarded…….
The bedroom looked like it had been burgled……
Set on top of the boudoir were a selection of small boxes…brushes…and pots….a variety of cosmetics lay on its surface waiting to be dabbed and anointed ….a lipstick tube was there, open…an eyeliner…..a mascara pencil……a pot of red nail varnish……hair brushes and clips…….
At the bottom of the double bed was an ottoman style storage box, used to store fresh bedding……draped over this ottoman box was a gray coloured dress…..the skirt of the dress was pleated and it zippered at the back….lying next to the dress was a white satin full slip….a petite and silky soft affair….its halter cups were lacy with a flower design and clam trimmed….the lace trim mirrored the slips hemline….that would have ended above the wearers knee……
On top of both garments lay a pair of ladies tights….tan in shade, around 20 denier…..light in support around on the crotch and tummy……seamed in the middle.….
Also on the ottoman was a brassier hanging limp….bright white and clean…..the bra was fresh, it had smelled of washing detergent and had been deemed as yet unworn by its intended wearer..….its sheer factory machined torso band hung loose, its laundry label very visible….like the thin adjustable shoulder straps, dangling loose…..both lacy white cups had the same design as the nearby slip…...obviously a matching set…..
Next to the bra was an equally bright white satin pair of knickers….bikini in style…low below the belly button…..full backed on a woman’s backside….….the skimpy knickers frontage was sheer and lace……designed with the same floral design as the bra
These clothes had been previously laid out….ready to use by someone…..…all nice and ready to be slipped and snapped on…..squeezed into…..
In fact, these were the choices in outer clothing and underwear that Mrs Angela Slade had intended to dress with that same day…..and doing so in the privacy of her own bedroom……
So why was Angela Slade still undressed…….
The woman standing in the terry cloth dressing gown seemed in no hurry……she made no attempt to remove the bulky dressing own…….…her head wrapped in a towel that was not removed..…she ignored the underwear, tights and dress laid out on the ottoman…..she had plenty of time to slip them on……but she ignored them……..in fact she ignored all the items of clothing strewn around the bedroom……
Why….simple really……she was not Mrs Angela Slade……and all these clothes…..all of it….did not fit her at all…..
We now pan to the large double bed…….
Its bedclothes had been dishevelled …..all thick blankets with white bed sheets……the remains of a bed sheet lay discarded…twisted and ripped apart…..a pillow minus its pillow case lay halfway on the messed up bed
The woman in the dressing gown stood over the bed…looking down….a sinister and mocking grin on her face…a cruel look in her eyes
Looking back up at her were a pair terrified of eyes
The real Mrs Angela Slade was lying flat on her back…..on top of her marital bed.….nothing unusual in that, she normally slept there, and occasionally had sex upon it…….usually within and under its warm and thick bedclothes…..with the lights turned off…….moaning, sliding and squirming in the anonymity, safety and privacy of the darkness….and of course it was her own bedroom…..
Well…she was moaning, sliding and squirming right now……but not in the usual lustful joy of mutual coupling that involved marital intercourse…….
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
She was in no position to verbally protest at this obvious intrusion into the sanctity of her private world
It was again quite simple why if you looked at the poor woman’s current predicament…..
Angela Slade had been assaulted……violently handled and restrained in her own bedroom……without realizing what was happening…..clad only in a short nightdress, she had laid her clothing out, ready to wear, and was about to go and take a quick bath..….she had been thrown around like a piece of meat……her cries stifled by a powerful and ice cold hand……..
She had been severely bound with torn bed sheet linen….her now limp arms and hands had been tied with the ripped white material above her head, tied to the headboard of her own bed…..…
Her ankles were also tightly tied together…overlaying layers of white bound her small white ankles…..her toe nails were painted red…….her knees too, bound with white cotton……..the binding was very effective….her bound feet were also tied to one of the bedposts……a white linen strip connected her feet to the bed….restricting her lower body movement……
Very effective too was the white pillow case used as a tight cleave style gag……
The female in Angela Slade’s dressing gown looked over to one of the night tables at the side of the bed……this she assumed was the side were the husband had slept….
On the carpeted floor she noted a fallen framed colour picture…….she bent down and retrieved it….in their brief struggle the glass of the frame had not been broken
She arched her head to see more……and studied the touching keepsake
Her curiosity was rewarded with the image of a smiling couple decked out in their Sunday best….a party of some kind, a celebration by the looks of it….a christening or wedding perhaps…it looked like the snap was taken during the summer season….the man was a forgettable type, tall…..balding and turning to fat…the office type in his grey suit….blue tie and white shirt….he had a noticeable paunch……she had seen the man leave, but the distance had been to great to make out any detail……….
The female was more interested in the woman in the photograph……..and what she had worn that day…….
The smiling woman in the photo was in her mid to late forties……she was a small woman, petite in size and figure….her light fawn coloured brown hair was short but styled in a wavy perm….…quite pleasant and unassuming, just a normal looking woman, not gorgeous, not ugly either……...a floral blue patterned summer dress open at the neck, all with swirling flowers, the dress was over her knees, short sleeved and boat necked in style, showing a clean neckline and a rounded bust ….…she had a good but not overly sized bust, at a guess probably a larger sized B in the cup…….she still had a trim waist, unlike her husband, tightly belted with a thick black leather affair with a large plastic buckle…..she had worn black tights or stockings that day, a rich dark black nylon encased her legs….. and she wore on her feet equally black low heeled pointed shoes….…she had her hand bag over her shoulder, with its thin strap, it was a small purse type in style, normally used on special occasions, not really practical, but nice at parties..….…....the woman in the photo looked happy…….she was not stunning, but was still attractive in that mature womanly way………her smiling red lips, her made up face….…her eyes were wide with delight…….she had dark carefree eyes………
This same morning the once happy and carefree smiling person in the photograph was not currently feeling like the same woman……
Those cheerful and carefree eyes now had the frightened look of a cornered animal…..her eyes were moist….the whites a little red, around her eyes her skin was appeared a little puffy……
Her thin face looked distorted…..…..her lower face and cheeks were compressed…….pinched in
Likewise, her curly hair…….trapped underneath a thick strip of restrictive white cloth…….
All due to the tightly pulled and thick cleave style gag that had been forcibly jammed into and around her small mouth….a full gag too, her mouth had been fully bunged…a pair of the woman’s navy blue coloured knickers had been stuffed into the back of her mouth, a rather lacy pair at that…..her white pillow case had been tightly tied around the back of her head, trapping her hair…..a tight knot digging into the back of her head….the gag was white and tight….cleaving her lips and small mouth apart……her teeth biting into the cotton fabric….her tongue useless…..one could just make out the dark blue knickers stuffed behind the white of the cloth……the white gag between her teeth looked moist and wet…..
The only sounds that the real Mrs Slade could produce were very similar to the sounds she made when she was being mounted by her rather portly husband……they were a low whimpering whine……almost pain, almost extreme pleasure…..
Her neck…..thin, just showing the signs of age…..made noticeable gulping motions as her adams apple spasmed in her throat…..
Her small nose flared as she could only breath through her nostrils……
Her chest visibly rose up and down in nervous exertion……..
Mrs Slade was frightened…….
As stated earlier…..that morning, when she had been surprised and attacked Angela Slade had been in her bedroom….selecting her choice of clothing for the day….for her intended and now no doubt cancelled shopping trip into town planned later in the day…..her friend Brenda was coming over later to pick her up….then the short drive to Ashdon…..a little shopping……maybe a nice cup of tea and a cake at that charming tea house in the old market square…..she enjoyed a chat…..her and Brenda catching up on all the latest gossip…..two middle class ladies, conservatively and respectably attired in their frocks tan hosiery and sensibly heeled shoes…....sipping tea and the odd cream layered scone…..the stereotypical picture of English small town life…….
That was not to be……instead her day had become a living nightmare……one of those horror stories that one read in the news nowadays……or like those awful Italian murder films that her husband seemed to enjoy so much….thrillers he called them…..always a scantily clad young woman tied up and gagged somewhere……except now it had happened to her for real……
And not buy a man either….another woman
The obviously demented and violent woman was standing over her…….looking down at something…….after a short time the lunatic was looking at her prostrated body…..
Angela Slade wriggled her tied up limbs in embarrassment…….she shifted her waist and bottom….she saw those evil looking eyes eagerly inspecting her body……
After all, Mrs Slade had only been wearing her short night dress when she had been attacked from behind….the assault had been so fast and furious…….the cold hand that had gripped her mouth….her stifled screams…..her arm pinioned behind her back……the pain as her limb was contorted against her will……she could struggle as she was pushed roughly onto her own bed……..
And now she was being studied by this thug who wanted god knows what from her……
Her nightdress had been short when she had stood up in it…..
Now forcibly restrained on her bed and lying on her back……it was even shorter….too short by far
The plain white cotton night shirt, bereft of lace and any of the usual female ornamentation, rose far too high up on her thighs…….
Due to her struggling and shifting as she was being tied up, the rising nightdress had left her in a compromising and embarrassing posture ….
The simple cotton night garment with its thin shoulder straps had risen up to and over her stomach…….she still had a slim tummy……but still…….her knickers were on full show for anyone to ogle at……..her hips, just adorned in the simple white cotton and homely undergarment were brazenly on display……high hip, with just a small bow set in the elastic of the waist band……she was achingly attuned to her current situation that the curve of her pubis was exposed and that she could do nothing about it……thank god it wasn’t her time of the month…….she trembled and was mortified at the thought……her hips and waist wriggled in sheer degradation and embarrassment, as if somehow her wrinkled and trapped nightdress would slide down and restore some modicum of personnel privacy
Her now numb hands were useless…….they were tied to the headboard above her head…….her arms also ached……her wrists tightly bound with another strip of torn white linen……that was once one of her bed sheets…
She moaned through her gag as she watched her attacker leer at her semi- nakedness….was this thug going to hurt her……or worse…….the unfortunate Mrs Slade feared for her life…..and why wouldn’t she……
Her moans were nothing more than the low resonance that only a gagged female could make….a low mewing sound….….nobody outside of the bedroom would have heard it….……she attempted to lever her body up……her hips thrusting up slightly, making her pubic bulge even more prominent…..her aching arms failed her, her strained body collapsed back onto the bed…….
Her white thighs, shapely enough for a woman of her age…….quivered slightly as her knees attempted to move…..
Her ability to move her semi naked body was very restricted………
She had watched in terror as her room had been violated…….
Her bedroom had been thoroughly turned over………
All her intimate clothing……her underwear…. had been thoroughly rummaged and rifled through……her various brassieres and knickers were either draped over opened bureau draws or lay discarded on the carpeted floor after they had been checked and thrown……the once neat and orderly packed draws were now a thorough mess of multi-coloured rumpled silk, nylon, cotton or satin……..
Her dressing stool….where she had been sitting when assaulted….lay turned on its side…..
Upon her vanity table….with its large oval vintage mirror……was her collection of cosmetics, her brushes and general Bric a Brac a lady used to make her face
Her other intimate clothing bureaux or chest of draws had been equally debased …….
Her slips…both full and half types had been equally inspected and discarded…….
Her other sleep ware……her camisoles, negligee’s…..all lay over some part of the bedroom
Only one wardrobe remained closed – the one containing her husband’s clothes……
It was again quite simple why if you looked at the poor woman’s current predicament…..
Angela Slade had been assaulted……violently handled and restrained in her own bedroom……without realizing what was happening…..clad only in a short nightdress, she had laid her clothing out, ready to wear, and was about to go and take a quick bath..….she had been thrown around like a piece of meat……her cries stifled by a powerful and ice cold hand……..
She had been severely bound with torn bed sheet linen….her now limp arms and hands had been tied with the ripped white material above her head, tied to the headboard of her own bed…..…
Her ankles were also tightly tied together…overlaying layers of white bound her small white ankles…..her toe nails were painted red…….her knees too, bound with white cotton……..the binding was very effective….her bound feet were also tied to one of the bedposts……a white linen strip connected her feet to the bed….restricting her lower body movement……
Very effective too was the white pillow case used as a tight cleave style gag……
The female in Angela Slade’s dressing gown looked over to one of the night tables at the side of the bed……this she assumed was the side were the husband had slept….
On the carpeted floor she noted a fallen framed colour picture…….she bent down and retrieved it….in their brief struggle the glass of the frame had not been broken
She arched her head to see more……and studied the touching keepsake
Her curiosity was rewarded with the image of a smiling couple decked out in their Sunday best….a party of some kind, a celebration by the looks of it….a christening or wedding perhaps…it looked like the snap was taken during the summer season….the man was a forgettable type, tall…..balding and turning to fat…the office type in his grey suit….blue tie and white shirt….he had a noticeable paunch……she had seen the man leave, but the distance had been to great to make out any detail……….
The female was more interested in the woman in the photograph……..and what she had worn that day…….
The smiling woman in the photo was in her mid to late forties……she was a small woman, petite in size and figure….her light fawn coloured brown hair was short but styled in a wavy perm….…quite pleasant and unassuming, just a normal looking woman, not gorgeous, not ugly either……...a floral blue patterned summer dress open at the neck, all with swirling flowers, the dress was over her knees, short sleeved and boat necked in style, showing a clean neckline and a rounded bust ….…she had a good but not overly sized bust, at a guess probably a larger sized B in the cup…….she still had a trim waist, unlike her husband, tightly belted with a thick black leather affair with a large plastic buckle…..she had worn black tights or stockings that day, a rich dark black nylon encased her legs….. and she wore on her feet equally black low heeled pointed shoes….…she had her hand bag over her shoulder, with its thin strap, it was a small purse type in style, normally used on special occasions, not really practical, but nice at parties..….…....the woman in the photo looked happy…….she was not stunning, but was still attractive in that mature womanly way………her smiling red lips, her made up face….…her eyes were wide with delight…….she had dark carefree eyes………
This same morning the once happy and carefree smiling person in the photograph was not currently feeling like the same woman……
Those cheerful and carefree eyes now had the frightened look of a cornered animal…..her eyes were moist….the whites a little red, around her eyes her skin was appeared a little puffy……
Her thin face looked distorted…..…..her lower face and cheeks were compressed…….pinched in
Likewise, her curly hair…….trapped underneath a thick strip of restrictive white cloth…….
All due to the tightly pulled and thick cleave style gag that had been forcibly jammed into and around her small mouth….a full gag too, her mouth had been fully bunged…a pair of the woman’s navy blue coloured knickers had been stuffed into the back of her mouth, a rather lacy pair at that…..her white pillow case had been tightly tied around the back of her head, trapping her hair…..a tight knot digging into the back of her head….the gag was white and tight….cleaving her lips and small mouth apart……her teeth biting into the cotton fabric….her tongue useless…..one could just make out the dark blue knickers stuffed behind the white of the cloth……the white gag between her teeth looked moist and wet…..
The only sounds that the real Mrs Slade could produce were very similar to the sounds she made when she was being mounted by her rather portly husband……they were a low whimpering whine……almost pain, almost extreme pleasure…..
Her neck…..thin, just showing the signs of age…..made noticeable gulping motions as her adams apple spasmed in her throat…..
Her small nose flared as she could only breath through her nostrils……
Her chest visibly rose up and down in nervous exertion……..
Mrs Slade was frightened…….
As stated earlier…..that morning, when she had been surprised and attacked Angela Slade had been in her bedroom….selecting her choice of clothing for the day….for her intended and now no doubt cancelled shopping trip into town planned later in the day…..her friend Brenda was coming over later to pick her up….then the short drive to Ashdon…..a little shopping……maybe a nice cup of tea and a cake at that charming tea house in the old market square…..she enjoyed a chat…..her and Brenda catching up on all the latest gossip…..two middle class ladies, conservatively and respectably attired in their frocks tan hosiery and sensibly heeled shoes…....sipping tea and the odd cream layered scone…..the stereotypical picture of English small town life…….
That was not to be……instead her day had become a living nightmare……one of those horror stories that one read in the news nowadays……or like those awful Italian murder films that her husband seemed to enjoy so much….thrillers he called them…..always a scantily clad young woman tied up and gagged somewhere……except now it had happened to her for real……
And not buy a man either….another woman
The obviously demented and violent woman was standing over her…….looking down at something…….after a short time the lunatic was looking at her prostrated body…..
Angela Slade wriggled her tied up limbs in embarrassment…….she shifted her waist and bottom….she saw those evil looking eyes eagerly inspecting her body……
After all, Mrs Slade had only been wearing her short night dress when she had been attacked from behind….the assault had been so fast and furious…….the cold hand that had gripped her mouth….her stifled screams…..her arm pinioned behind her back……the pain as her limb was contorted against her will……she could struggle as she was pushed roughly onto her own bed……..
And now she was being studied by this thug who wanted god knows what from her……
Her nightdress had been short when she had stood up in it…..
Now forcibly restrained on her bed and lying on her back……it was even shorter….too short by far
The plain white cotton night shirt, bereft of lace and any of the usual female ornamentation, rose far too high up on her thighs…….
Due to her struggling and shifting as she was being tied up, the rising nightdress had left her in a compromising and embarrassing posture ….
The simple cotton night garment with its thin shoulder straps had risen up to and over her stomach…….she still had a slim tummy……but still…….her knickers were on full show for anyone to ogle at……..her hips, just adorned in the simple white cotton and homely undergarment were brazenly on display……high hip, with just a small bow set in the elastic of the waist band……she was achingly attuned to her current situation that the curve of her pubis was exposed and that she could do nothing about it……thank god it wasn’t her time of the month…….she trembled and was mortified at the thought……her hips and waist wriggled in sheer degradation and embarrassment, as if somehow her wrinkled and trapped nightdress would slide down and restore some modicum of personnel privacy
Her now numb hands were useless…….they were tied to the headboard above her head…….her arms also ached……her wrists tightly bound with another strip of torn white linen……that was once one of her bed sheets…
She moaned through her gag as she watched her attacker leer at her semi- nakedness….was this thug going to hurt her……or worse…….the unfortunate Mrs Slade feared for her life…..and why wouldn’t she……
Her moans were nothing more than the low resonance that only a gagged female could make….a low mewing sound….….nobody outside of the bedroom would have heard it….……she attempted to lever her body up……her hips thrusting up slightly, making her pubic bulge even more prominent…..her aching arms failed her, her strained body collapsed back onto the bed…….
Her white thighs, shapely enough for a woman of her age…….quivered slightly as her knees attempted to move…..
Her ability to move her semi naked body was very restricted………
She had watched in terror as her room had been violated…….
Her bedroom had been thoroughly turned over………
All her intimate clothing……her underwear…. had been thoroughly rummaged and rifled through……her various brassieres and knickers were either draped over opened bureau draws or lay discarded on the carpeted floor after they had been checked and thrown……the once neat and orderly packed draws were now a thorough mess of multi-coloured rumpled silk, nylon, cotton or satin……..
Her dressing stool….where she had been sitting when assaulted….lay turned on its side…..
Upon her vanity table….with its large oval vintage mirror……was her collection of cosmetics, her brushes and general Bric a Brac a lady used to make her face
Her other intimate clothing bureaux or chest of draws had been equally debased …….
Her slips…both full and half types had been equally inspected and discarded…….
Her other sleep ware……her camisoles, negligee’s…..all lay over some part of the bedroom
Only one wardrobe remained closed – the one containing her husband’s clothes……
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 407
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
The other two were ajar……racks of her dresses, blouses, skirts, ladies’ trousers, jackets, sweaters, her gloves, scarfs and ladies’ hats…..the general paraphernalia of being a woman had all been searched, inspected and deemed not suitable for use……..
For a short period of time after the assault, the tied-up Mrs Slade, had been left alone……her rain-soaked assailant had checked the sheet ties and gag……obviously making sure that they were tight and secure….
Satisfied that they were tight, doing so by groping and pulling at the terrified housewife..…causing Angela’s unsupported small breasts to wobble slightly……which the lunatic noticed with a sly look….she had quickly departed the bedroom, leaving Mrs Slade alone, bound and gagged……….soon the struggling woman had heard her bathroom taps being turned on……there was the heavy sound of running water….no doubt hot……..
Eventually the unhinged assailant had returned to her bedroom….totally naked, except for wearing a yellow turban styled towel around her head……she had obviously washed her hair, no doubt using Angela’s nice lilac fragranced shampoo……
The intruder had discarded the soaking black boiler suit that she had been wearing…..the alarmed and wide-eyed Angela thought the worst was going to happen……a naked woman in her room……
She noted the woman had a strong looking body…..toned, no fat…..no evidence of any feminine softness…..she looked taller and bigger boned than Angela……the woman’s breasts were larger….her hips wider….thighs and legs shapely…….the woman’s backside was tight, not fleshiness there……she had the figure of a sportswoman……
Angela noted a scar on the woman’s lower back……her right-hand side…...long, deep and red……it was a marked contrast to the rest of her……maybe some kind of accident….Angela thought the wound looked nasty……whatever happened must have been very painful……
Not that Mrs Slade cared at all………
The bound and gagged housewife had moaned loudly and had struggled on her bed, expecting to be molested or worse…………but she soon realized and inwardly sighed with relief as she saw the intruder had taken no interest in her…..but the bitch was very interested in her clothes….
Mrs Slade watched in horrified fascination as all her intimate and personal attire was desecrated…..nothing was sacred…….even her supply of sanitary products was found and thrown to the other side of the room……
She had to endure the shame as the freak tried on various pairs of her knickers…….until one pair…..one of her black high hipped, full on the backside affairs……shiny satin….sporting a lacy and flowery frontage….cute little bow on the waist…..finally fitted the bitch……or near enough……the knickers were not a good fit on this stranger……but they would do at a pinch…..
Nothing else would fit her though……
It was even obvious to Angela that this mad woman was too big for her underwear and clothes…..Angela Slade was a smaller woman…..in height and general build….she was more petite……
The housewife looked on in enforced silence…..grunting through her gag at times as this bitch kept trying to squeeze into her clothing……her own clothes……like trying on her bras like it was some kind of boutique, looking at her refection in Angela’s own full length mirror…..outrageous…..her bras were too small for her…..this other woman’s tits bilged over the cups, the band would not reach around her midriff….. and in anger she just chucked them all around……..like they were just pieces of rubbish…….
Angela’s tights had suffered the same fate, Mrs Slade had not worn stockings and belts in years..……nothing fitted the bastard….
But she kept trying……causing runs and tears in some of her tights……
The intruder had at first tried on Angela’s choice of clothes for that now cancelled shopping trip….laid out near the bed on an Ottoman trunk……a dove gray cotton mix dress, long sleeved, wing collared and pleated….long on her leg, to the mid calve……..a white knicker and bra set, new….a matching half-slip with a clam lace trim and side split……a new pair of 15 denier tights, light tan……she liked to look smart when going out….whatever the occasion.
Her intended shoes….equally toned gray leather heels…..open on the foot with a rounded toe….the heel was low…..smart, new, nice and sensible
Now they lay mostly ruined…….the lunatic had tried to squeeze her larger figure into the delicate and smaller garments….it was no good……they were all stretched now …..ruined the lot……not that Mrs Slade would ever wear any of her current clothes again……not after another woman had tried to wear them…….especially the violation of her underwear
Used pairs of tights spewed from her now toppled over laundry basket……all the items inside were dirty……..unfortunately and disgustingly for Mrs Slade….so too were the dark blue knickers now jammed into her mouth……..luckily she was too dazed by the rapidity of events to have realised that……only later, much later……..would she gag and vomit over that final indignity…..
After Angela’s bedroom had been ransacked in a fruitless search for clothing, only finding one pair of knickers that just barley fit her……the intruder looked at a loss of what to do next…….
The attacker was just eyeing up her husband’s wardrobe when they both heard the knocking at the door…….
The nut job had grabbed the indisposed Angela’s outsized terry cloth dressing gown…..quickly covered herself up……her just being in now stolen black lacy bikini knickers……
Angela watched as the intruder padded over to the bedroom window……the woman in now in her gown carefully moved one of the curtains, to peak outside……..
Angela saw the woman slightly stiffen her back…….the woman then hurriedly left the bedroom closing the door behind her…….
Mrs Slade was left tightly cleave gagged……breathing heavily…….tied up with her lower body totally exposed in just her knickers…….her eyes darted back and fore…..grunting at the uncomfortable tightness of the gag,…..her bound limbs now aching intensely…….in time they would become numb
She listened intently…….finally she heard other voices downstairs……..in her hallway…….could these people be her saviours……she began to pull her arms and tied wrists……pulling her feet……she tried to wriggle her tied pale knees, also her not bad looking legs, completely hairless as she shaved them frequently……she was well groomed everywhere in fact…...her double bed began to rock back and fore….until finally the beds head rest had begun to touch the iron heating pipe fixed to the wall……..
Slowly at first……until finally there was a loud enough bang that would not be missed by those below…….her muted shouts through the gag went nowhere…..just muffled moans of anguish and shame
Now her attacker had returned and stood over her in a menacing manner……
Suddenly….causing Mrs Slade to give a muted whine of terror……the intruder bent down, gripped the bed frame and pulled back hard……
There was a load scraping noise as the bedstead legs scarped along the carpet……..the bed moved away from the offending heating pipe
Downstairs, directly below the master bedroom……..
WPC Susan McBride was standing near the coal and wood fire…..attempting to dry off, by now she had discarded her waterproof uniform raincoat, complete with her silver police number’s on its shoulders……attired now in her regulation dark blue tunic, knee length skirt and black tights…….her uniform shoes had also been removed……..her black stockinged feet, her toes under reinforced extra black seams flexed with the gratifying heat…...she was still wet……her white uniform shirt was soaked underneath….the rainwater in its deluge had gone straight down her collar…..even her bra was damp, she could feel it…….
There was loud noise from above…….she looked straight up at the ceiling…..something heavy was being dragged along floor….
Susan shrugged…...probably Mrs Slade doing something to that noisy heating pipe……nice woman that Mrs Slade thought Susan……pleasant enough to offer a cup of Tea…..
And Yes, Susan was correct…….the real Mrs Slade was generally a nice lady…..but not the woman she had met pretending to be her……
Susan McBride began to rub and brush off her wet uniform skirt…..oblivious to what went on in the bedroom right above her young and unsuspecting head…….
The real Mrs Slade yelped in fright….resulting in only another gagged muted moan……
The intruder smiled….female gag speak aroused her somewhat…..it always had…..and in her time she had gagged many a woman…..
After shifting the bed which caused the bound and prostrate Angela’s body to quiver like a big pink blancmange……a rather sickly sweet desert by the way……the intruder suddenly hopped onto the bed next to her……the terry cloth robe slipped open….revealing the woman’s bare breasts with small brown nipples…..her thin waist and flat stomach…..her hips and groin now layered in a spare pair of Angela’s black knickers……the intruder lay next to the tied up housewife……her head supported by elbow and hand, very close to and looking at the gagged face…… the gagged woman’s terrified dark eyes were looking at her tormenter extremely sideways……..the intruder hitched her own bare knee over and onto the tied woman’s equally bare leg……skin on skin….Angela’s unmoving thigh and leg quivered slightly…..not enjoying the rather intimate pose and personal contact……
With her arms stretched above her head….Mrs Slade tried to turn her head and look away from her harasser…..her eyes wide with terror……eyelids blinking more than usual……..her face clammy with nervous sweat….her teeth biting into the gag, her mouth and throat were bone dry as the knickers jammed into her mouth had absorbed most of her spittle…….her nose flared as she struggled to breath….her chest rising rapidly up and down…….
The intruder noted the rapidly rising chest……the woman’s unsupported tits flat on her chest, underneath the unadorned and simple cotton nightdress……just a little evidence of her nipples…….the thin shoulder straps loose due to the garment being hitched up so high on the woman’s body…….her waist and hips….the triangle of her ladies briefs…….thighs…..the bound knees…..the strapped ankles and feet with the red nail varnish…….
The intruder looked up at the woman’s hands……Yes……red nail varnish too……what a proper lady she was surmised the imposter……someone to mimic here she thought……pity there was no time to get to further know her habits……
For a short period of time after the assault, the tied-up Mrs Slade, had been left alone……her rain-soaked assailant had checked the sheet ties and gag……obviously making sure that they were tight and secure….
Satisfied that they were tight, doing so by groping and pulling at the terrified housewife..…causing Angela’s unsupported small breasts to wobble slightly……which the lunatic noticed with a sly look….she had quickly departed the bedroom, leaving Mrs Slade alone, bound and gagged……….soon the struggling woman had heard her bathroom taps being turned on……there was the heavy sound of running water….no doubt hot……..
Eventually the unhinged assailant had returned to her bedroom….totally naked, except for wearing a yellow turban styled towel around her head……she had obviously washed her hair, no doubt using Angela’s nice lilac fragranced shampoo……
The intruder had discarded the soaking black boiler suit that she had been wearing…..the alarmed and wide-eyed Angela thought the worst was going to happen……a naked woman in her room……
She noted the woman had a strong looking body…..toned, no fat…..no evidence of any feminine softness…..she looked taller and bigger boned than Angela……the woman’s breasts were larger….her hips wider….thighs and legs shapely…….the woman’s backside was tight, not fleshiness there……she had the figure of a sportswoman……
Angela noted a scar on the woman’s lower back……her right-hand side…...long, deep and red……it was a marked contrast to the rest of her……maybe some kind of accident….Angela thought the wound looked nasty……whatever happened must have been very painful……
Not that Mrs Slade cared at all………
The bound and gagged housewife had moaned loudly and had struggled on her bed, expecting to be molested or worse…………but she soon realized and inwardly sighed with relief as she saw the intruder had taken no interest in her…..but the bitch was very interested in her clothes….
Mrs Slade watched in horrified fascination as all her intimate and personal attire was desecrated…..nothing was sacred…….even her supply of sanitary products was found and thrown to the other side of the room……
She had to endure the shame as the freak tried on various pairs of her knickers…….until one pair…..one of her black high hipped, full on the backside affairs……shiny satin….sporting a lacy and flowery frontage….cute little bow on the waist…..finally fitted the bitch……or near enough……the knickers were not a good fit on this stranger……but they would do at a pinch…..
Nothing else would fit her though……
It was even obvious to Angela that this mad woman was too big for her underwear and clothes…..Angela Slade was a smaller woman…..in height and general build….she was more petite……
The housewife looked on in enforced silence…..grunting through her gag at times as this bitch kept trying to squeeze into her clothing……her own clothes……like trying on her bras like it was some kind of boutique, looking at her refection in Angela’s own full length mirror…..outrageous…..her bras were too small for her…..this other woman’s tits bilged over the cups, the band would not reach around her midriff….. and in anger she just chucked them all around……..like they were just pieces of rubbish…….
Angela’s tights had suffered the same fate, Mrs Slade had not worn stockings and belts in years..……nothing fitted the bastard….
But she kept trying……causing runs and tears in some of her tights……
The intruder had at first tried on Angela’s choice of clothes for that now cancelled shopping trip….laid out near the bed on an Ottoman trunk……a dove gray cotton mix dress, long sleeved, wing collared and pleated….long on her leg, to the mid calve……..a white knicker and bra set, new….a matching half-slip with a clam lace trim and side split……a new pair of 15 denier tights, light tan……she liked to look smart when going out….whatever the occasion.
Her intended shoes….equally toned gray leather heels…..open on the foot with a rounded toe….the heel was low…..smart, new, nice and sensible
Now they lay mostly ruined…….the lunatic had tried to squeeze her larger figure into the delicate and smaller garments….it was no good……they were all stretched now …..ruined the lot……not that Mrs Slade would ever wear any of her current clothes again……not after another woman had tried to wear them…….especially the violation of her underwear
Used pairs of tights spewed from her now toppled over laundry basket……all the items inside were dirty……..unfortunately and disgustingly for Mrs Slade….so too were the dark blue knickers now jammed into her mouth……..luckily she was too dazed by the rapidity of events to have realised that……only later, much later……..would she gag and vomit over that final indignity…..
After Angela’s bedroom had been ransacked in a fruitless search for clothing, only finding one pair of knickers that just barley fit her……the intruder looked at a loss of what to do next…….
The attacker was just eyeing up her husband’s wardrobe when they both heard the knocking at the door…….
The nut job had grabbed the indisposed Angela’s outsized terry cloth dressing gown…..quickly covered herself up……her just being in now stolen black lacy bikini knickers……
Angela watched as the intruder padded over to the bedroom window……the woman in now in her gown carefully moved one of the curtains, to peak outside……..
Angela saw the woman slightly stiffen her back…….the woman then hurriedly left the bedroom closing the door behind her…….
Mrs Slade was left tightly cleave gagged……breathing heavily…….tied up with her lower body totally exposed in just her knickers…….her eyes darted back and fore…..grunting at the uncomfortable tightness of the gag,…..her bound limbs now aching intensely…….in time they would become numb
She listened intently…….finally she heard other voices downstairs……..in her hallway…….could these people be her saviours……she began to pull her arms and tied wrists……pulling her feet……she tried to wriggle her tied pale knees, also her not bad looking legs, completely hairless as she shaved them frequently……she was well groomed everywhere in fact…...her double bed began to rock back and fore….until finally the beds head rest had begun to touch the iron heating pipe fixed to the wall……..
Slowly at first……until finally there was a loud enough bang that would not be missed by those below…….her muted shouts through the gag went nowhere…..just muffled moans of anguish and shame
Now her attacker had returned and stood over her in a menacing manner……
Suddenly….causing Mrs Slade to give a muted whine of terror……the intruder bent down, gripped the bed frame and pulled back hard……
There was a load scraping noise as the bedstead legs scarped along the carpet……..the bed moved away from the offending heating pipe
Downstairs, directly below the master bedroom……..
WPC Susan McBride was standing near the coal and wood fire…..attempting to dry off, by now she had discarded her waterproof uniform raincoat, complete with her silver police number’s on its shoulders……attired now in her regulation dark blue tunic, knee length skirt and black tights…….her uniform shoes had also been removed……..her black stockinged feet, her toes under reinforced extra black seams flexed with the gratifying heat…...she was still wet……her white uniform shirt was soaked underneath….the rainwater in its deluge had gone straight down her collar…..even her bra was damp, she could feel it…….
There was loud noise from above…….she looked straight up at the ceiling…..something heavy was being dragged along floor….
Susan shrugged…...probably Mrs Slade doing something to that noisy heating pipe……nice woman that Mrs Slade thought Susan……pleasant enough to offer a cup of Tea…..
And Yes, Susan was correct…….the real Mrs Slade was generally a nice lady…..but not the woman she had met pretending to be her……
Susan McBride began to rub and brush off her wet uniform skirt…..oblivious to what went on in the bedroom right above her young and unsuspecting head…….
The real Mrs Slade yelped in fright….resulting in only another gagged muted moan……
The intruder smiled….female gag speak aroused her somewhat…..it always had…..and in her time she had gagged many a woman…..
After shifting the bed which caused the bound and prostrate Angela’s body to quiver like a big pink blancmange……a rather sickly sweet desert by the way……the intruder suddenly hopped onto the bed next to her……the terry cloth robe slipped open….revealing the woman’s bare breasts with small brown nipples…..her thin waist and flat stomach…..her hips and groin now layered in a spare pair of Angela’s black knickers……the intruder lay next to the tied up housewife……her head supported by elbow and hand, very close to and looking at the gagged face…… the gagged woman’s terrified dark eyes were looking at her tormenter extremely sideways……..the intruder hitched her own bare knee over and onto the tied woman’s equally bare leg……skin on skin….Angela’s unmoving thigh and leg quivered slightly…..not enjoying the rather intimate pose and personal contact……
With her arms stretched above her head….Mrs Slade tried to turn her head and look away from her harasser…..her eyes wide with terror……eyelids blinking more than usual……..her face clammy with nervous sweat….her teeth biting into the gag, her mouth and throat were bone dry as the knickers jammed into her mouth had absorbed most of her spittle…….her nose flared as she struggled to breath….her chest rising rapidly up and down…….
The intruder noted the rapidly rising chest……the woman’s unsupported tits flat on her chest, underneath the unadorned and simple cotton nightdress……just a little evidence of her nipples…….the thin shoulder straps loose due to the garment being hitched up so high on the woman’s body…….her waist and hips….the triangle of her ladies briefs…….thighs…..the bound knees…..the strapped ankles and feet with the red nail varnish…….
The intruder looked up at the woman’s hands……Yes……red nail varnish too……what a proper lady she was surmised the imposter……someone to mimic here she thought……pity there was no time to get to further know her habits……