REHEARSAL

REHEARSAL

Brian Sands

The Trygon Factor, HtF.

Chapter 11 Alison’s Dangerous Game

A hand touched her shoulder, evoking a scream that was absorbed by the thick gag in Laura’s mouth. All the sound she could make was a faint glug. She began to choke, and tears welled in her eyes. Worse still, the hood was damp with sweat. It clung to her face and made breathing more difficult.

Then Laura realised that the hands touching her were gentle and that she was being lifted and propped against a wall. Her fingers told her it was built of wood panels of some kind.

After an unsuccessful attempt at pulling the silk hood straight off, Laura’s rescuer - or so she hoped it was - gently unrolled it from below her chin and up over her mouth and nose until it finally peeled away reluctantly from her forehead. Fingers worked at the knots anchoring the gag. It took long moments for the black silk scarf to be untied in order for the whole gag, bandage, tape and packing, to fall from her mouth.

Laura found herself looking up into Alison’s worried face. ‘A- Ally ...’ she began. But she broke into a fit of coughing.

‘Shhh, shhhh,’ said Alison gently, pressing fingers to Laura’s lips and stroking Laura’s head and arranging her hair to either side of her face. ‘It’s all right, sweetie. But please keep quiet or Clive will hear.’

Ignoring Alison’s admonition to remain silent, Laura said through lips that felt rubbery, ‘Everything’s all right? But Clive’s still here? You- You’re using a definition of “all right” that I haven’t come across.’

‘I’m glad you can joke about this, Lalla. I’m terrified for you. Your arms are turning mauve-coloured from the ropes and you were having such trouble breathing. But I had to play along so Clive wouldn’t be suspicious.’

Alison produced a small pocketknife and began sawing at the cords that bound Laura’s elbows together. In a short time the cords fell away and pins and needles began shooting along Laura’s arms as circulation returned to them.

Laura noticed with a subsequent intuition that Alison was showing no sign of inebriation. If Ally’s not drunk, and if she doesn’t want Clive to be suspicious, then what is she up to? Clive can go down for kidnap now. But surely Ally’s not doing this on her own. If she is doing this alone then we’re still in dreadful peril. If Clive catches her untying me, he’ll have two kidnap victims instead of one.

Her thoughts seemed at that moment to trigger the consequences she feared, for there was a loud crash as a chair or something was overturned in the adjoining room. The door to their room, which Alison had closed, flew open and Clive appeared on the threshold. He was wild-eyed. His necktie was askew. He was limping slightly from the item of furniture into which he had blundered. And the mixture of panic and anger on his face did not make him look at all attractive.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing. You stupid woman. If she screams ...’

‘Th- Thash all ri’ Clive derling. Her li’l mouth will be too dry.’

That’s true thought Laura.

‘She wash, was choking on the gag so I had to take it out. An’ her armsh are all swollen. I trained as a nursh, you know. An’ Clive, it’sh real dangelus, dangermous, bad for her to have her circ’lation stopped like this.’

‘You’re too bloody soft,’ shouted Clive. ‘And I think something’s going on with you two. You left the papers back at your apartment, didn’t you?’

‘Y- Yesh. I sh’pose I forgot.’

‘Forgot? But we need them for that meeting tonight, to complete our business deal with the banker. You’re not planning some sort of double cross are you?’

‘I- I’ll go get them now, will I?’ Alison scrambled unsteadily to her feet.

‘I’m not so sure of that. C’mere.’

Clive seized Alison by an arm and spun her around. In the ensuing struggle, the silk dress was pulled from her shoulders and down her arms. Laura heard a tearing sound and hoped it was only a seam so that the garment might be mended more easily.

‘St- Stop it Clive! What are you doing? You’re not going to tie me up? We’re partners.’

‘You’re too much trouble for me to trust alone with our little prisoner. You might get too softhearted about her. You might even start thinking about letting her go. Remember, we’re in this together. There, that’ll hold your arms.’

Clive had just finished tying Alison’s wrists together behind her.

The man spun Alison around again so that she was facing him, took the silk dress by the collars in each hand, and with a single movement opened it out. Buttons popped and Laura heard the sound of more ripping. The man peeled off the dress, flung it to the floor and stood back. Alison was almost as naked as Laura, in black lace bra and matching string panties, but with the addition of a pair of white stockings that clung by elasticised tops to her upper thighs.

‘Not quite as limber as your friend, but there’s a little more of you. Sorry to do this. But for the time being, get on the floor!’

Alison did a creditable job of stumbling backward till she sat on the carpet with a plop. Clive knelt at her feet and began to roll down first one stocking and then the other, pulling them off at the same time from her feet. With one stocking he bound Alison’s ankles, crossing them the same way he had crossed Laura’s ankles, only then he had used rope. He moved behind Alison and forced her shoulders further back behind her by tying her elbows.

‘You’re harder to tie up than little Laura,’ Clive said through gritted teeth.

Alison was not as supple in build as Laura, and Clive had to wrestle her elbows back to bring them together, and even then he succeeded only in making them almost touch.

‘Hmmm. Have to be content with that, but you both look good enough to eat,’ was his verdict

‘Clive, Darlunk. Please, plitty please, won’t you untie me,’ begged Alison, giving him a coquettish look. ‘I promise I’ll watch Lalla like a hawk an’ not let her get away.’

‘No good,’ said Clive with a theatrical sigh. I’m past the point of no return. Don’t worry, I might untie you when I get back. There’s no pulling out of our little business deal now.’ Clive paused. ‘Gotta take a few more precautions, but I don’t have any rope.’ His eyes fell on the blue silk dress. ‘This will do just fine.’

Laura watched aghast as Clive took up the lustrous silk dress and - by hand and with a little help from Alison’s pocketknife - proceeded to tear the beautiful material into long strips. Oh no, that’s a week’s salary, thought Laura disconsolately, and I only bought it the other day.

The first strips of silk dress material were used to truss up Alison, pinning her arms to her body, the two turns of one strip lifting her breasts from below. Two layers of another strip higher around her shoulders then tied crossways in one direction between her breasts made them stand out further.

Alison looked down at herself with a sort of stunned, dreamy fascination while Clive reinforced her wrist ties and anchored her forearms against the base of her spine by winding a strip around her waist. She said nothing as her legs were bound above her knees and round her thighs. Nor did she say a word when Clive took up a shorter strip of silk, tied a knot in it, then thrust a roll of cloth into Alison’s mouth before tying the knot between her jaws to hold the packing in.

The other long strips of what had been Laura’s favourite dress were now used on Laura. Her wrists were still tied securely with cord, as were her ankles, so Clive contented himself with trussing Laura’s arms and shoulders in a pattern similar to that used on Alison, except that Laura’s breasts were lifted by a double crisscross between and not by a single cross-tie. In the process, Clive made a couple of extra cinches around Laura’s elbows, crunching them together much as they had been tied before. Her thighs were bound together and she was gagged with more dress material, a dry roll of it replacing the saliva saturated wad that lay on the floor nearby, and a knotted strip applied between her teeth.

‘I won’t bother with blindfolds, yet,’ grated Clive. ‘But I think I’ll reinforce your gags a leetle.’

Another piece of dress material was tied over Alison’s mouth, covering her chin but sparing her nose. Similarly, the black silk scarf was bound about Laura’s face as it was before.

Clive stood and looked down at his two prisoners, one clad only in white lace bra and panties, and rope and cloth strips, the other wearing black panties and full cup bra, trussed up mostly with dress material.

‘See you soon, ladies. Your two friends will still be there I think. Maybe I should bring them along for the ride.’

‘Mm mmph,’ grunted Alison angrily, shaking her head.

‘Only joking. Two trussed up women are enough to handle. Those two can have their little game, but they won’t be so happy when you fail to turn up.’

Clive swung away and walked to the door, stiff-legged from the bulge in his trousers, and was gone.

Laura and Alison were alone together, wearing minimal lingerie, bound hand and foot, trussed up and gagged.

Escape is going to be difficult, thought Laura, but we’re here together, we’re not anchored down, so we should be able to help each other. On the other hand, it did not take long to get here, so we don’t have much time before Clive gets back. And if he gets back before we have a chance to free each other, what could Alison do to help me? She’s obviously playing some sort of dangerous game with Clive. It’s to do with money, that’s certain. That’s obviously her hold on him. But she can’t have much control on the fellow. Look at her now. Bound and gagged like me!

The halogen globe in the ceiling had been left on. Laura watched with fascination the play of light and shadow and, as she struggled, the contrast it made across Alison’s fair skin, her black lingerie, and the blue strips of cloth that bound her. She looked down at herself and experienced a thrill of strangeness as she recognised the same sort of colour contrasts, only it was blue cloth alongside white lace and tanned skin.

ACT THREE, SCENE 5.

THE DRAWING ROOM, SOME HOURS LATER Cont.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: What is it? Ahh ... (A distant sound of footsteps can be heard from beyond the door at lower stage right, high heels on stone paving).

GERTRUDE: My god, someone’s back early.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: The sound of high heels. A woman.

(The door opens lower stage right and the SOCIETY GIRL enters. She is wearing an ankle length off-the-shoulder gown of lilac silk chiffon with a long matching scarf around her neck. An overcoat is carried across her arm. She comes to a halt and takes in the scene, registering at first puzzlement then growing alarm).

SOCIETY GIRL: Oh my god! Inspector ... (She takes a step towards the wrapped figure on the sofa). Wh - Who is it?

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: That’s what we have to find out. I suspect it is Miss Dolores Beaucoeur.

SOCIETY GIRL: Aren’t you going to untie her?

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: All in good time, my dear Miss White. But first, are the others coming?

SOCIETY GIRL: The others? Oh no. They shan’t be back for hours. Your sergeant is very thorough, but he took a liking to me and really I had nothing useful to say.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: I see. (He casts a quick, meaningful glance at GERTRUDE).

SOCIETY GIRL: So they let me leave early. I entered through the kitchen because I was thirsty and took a drink from the refrigerator, otherwise I wouldn’t have come through here at all.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: I see. Unfortunate for you that you did not follow your usual route. But fortunate for us because we might not have known you were here. (He turns to GERTRUDE). We shall have to render our nosy little friend somewhat uncomfortable. (He faces the SOCIETY GIRL again and produces a pistol from his pocket. He holds it up menacingly). Miss Black, tie her up and gag her. (GERTRUDE moves toward the SOCIETY GIRL, a piece of rope in her hands).

SOCIETY GIRL: I don’t understand. What are you doing? Ohh nooo.

(GERTRUDE moves behind the SOCIETY GIRL, snatches her coat from her and throws it to the floor, pulls her arms behind her back, and binds her. She does the job very quickly).

GERTRUDE: You’ve come to the wrong place at the wrong time ducky. Such a pity.

SOCIETY GIRL: I don’t understand ... Oh no! Are you the murderers? Two of you?

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Gag her, I said. Quickly!

GERTRUDE: There’s no need. No one will hear. We’re the only people in the house. But precautions have to be taken I suppose.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: I just want her to shut up!

(GERTRUDE takes the long scarf from the SOCIETY GIRL’S neck, folds it to half its length, and ties a knot in the centre).

GERTRUDE: To set your mind at ease, my pretty, neither of us touched the old lady.

SOCIETY GIRL: But if you didn’t, then who did? And who is it you have there? We found Dolores tied up and gagged before. Is that her? And what are you doing with her, whoever it is?

GERTRUDE: That’s enough! (She draws the scarf between the SOCIETY GIRL’S teeth. The SOCIETY GIRL begins to struggle).

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Moving close to the SOCIETY GIRL and holding the pistol an inch from her nose). Quietly, quietly my pretty. Keep very still. That’s right. Finish the job Gertrude. (GERTRUDE ties the knot of the gag, drawing it tight. The SOCIETY GIRL whimpers and stands still with her head bowed).

GERTRUDE: Come dear. Make yourself comfy over here, out of our way.

(She takes the SOCIETY GIRL firmly by an elbow, guides her to the chair upper centre stage and pushes her into it. She kneels and quickly lashes another piece of cord around the SOCIETY GIRL’S ankles).

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Ironically). This nicely complicates matters!

GERTRUDE: (Walking back and facing him). Not necessarily. We now have two ransom possibilities. Miss Blanche White is loaded. Her doting father will pay up without a quibble to have her back safe and sound. I know. I’ve met him. He’s a weakling. He’s one rich daddy who won’t go to the police.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Hmm. We’re not certain about Miss Beaucoeur’s fortune, or who we can find to apply leverage.

GERTRUDE: Exactly. This is definitely a case of two being better than one. (She looks at the SOCIETY GIRL who is struggling frantically at her wrist bonds). I’ll get another of those sheets.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Good idea. We need to subdue her, quieten her down, like our little friend here. (He indicates the wrapped form of DOLORES who kicks her legs but otherwise lies still).

(GERTRUDE exits centre stage right. The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR tests the cords that bind DOLORES within the tightly rolled sheet. DOLORES kicks her legs again. Her body shudders with the effort but she can make no other movement).

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Softly, softly, little one. There’s nothing you can do. You will have to learn to accept these restraints, and the gag. And you will have company.

(He looks across at the SOCIETY GIRL who renews her struggles. Because she is not tied into the chair, she falls to her knees onto the carpet).

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Rising and walking to the SOCIETY GIRL). Don’t become a nuisance, my dear. We have ways of dealing with little nuisances.

(He takes the SOCIETY GIRL under the arms, and almost throws her back into the chair. He draws the pistol from his pocket and menaces her. The SOCIETY GIRL cringes).

DETECTIVE INSPECOR: That’s better. Be very afraid. What the hell’s keeping that woman? (The door opens centre stage right and GERTRUDE re-enters. She carries a peach-coloured satin bed sheet which she holds aloft).

GERTRUDE: When little miss nosey is nicely wrapped up, we’ll have a matching pair.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Good work. But we mustn’t delay any more than necessary. Having to take care of two women instead of one is going to slow us down.

GERTRUDE: But think of the double dividends we’ll rake off with two dear little captives.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: I am thinking of that.

GERTRUDE: (Pausing and becoming thoughtful). You know, Rex, we keep forgetting that our little schemes are overshadowed by the old lady’s murder. Do you think it can be one of the others? Do you think the murderer’s still here, in our midst?

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: There’s no point in holding thoughts like that. In a short time we’ll be out of here. I’ll complain of work stress and ask for early long-service leave, and some other poor copper will have the problem. Come on. Help me wrap this little pretty.

(The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR and GERTRUDE converge on the SOCIETY GIRL who tries to scream through her gag).

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Chuckling). You’re in our charge. There’s no one to hear you my dear.

VOICE OFF-STAGE: Not so fast, Detective Inspector! ...

Laura tried to remember how it was done in films. There were not many movies that she could recall where two heroines were bound and gagged together. In one that she did remember, neither prisoner was able to help the other because they were tied to posts. In a scene from another movie, an energetic heroine worked her wrists free while her friend who was also bound looked on passively. But it was common sense that she and Alison would help each other if it was at all possible, neither of them being a passive partner.

Their eyes met. By means of grunting and shaking her head in what she hoped were meaningful signals, Laura made Alison understand that they should try to wriggle across the floor and get themselves back to back. It was a lot harder than she expected because they had limited movement. Having her arms bound at wrists and elbows then trussed tight against her body, her elbows in the small of her back, made movement for Laura very difficult.

At first Laura tried to inch her way on her bottom towards Alison, who was making less progress, but her efforts were scarcely any better. Her hands could gain very little purchase on the floor behind her sufficient to push her forwards.

Then Laura’s greater flexibility of body and limb came to her aid. She allowed herself to fall to the floor and began to roll over and over towards Alison, her body a single helpless bundle, but things improved as she gathered momentum and in a short time she came up against Alison’s legs. Getting upright again was a huge effort, but the fact that she did sit-ups a lot at the health centre worked in her favour. Soon she was sitting side-on to Alison, sweating and breathing heavily.

‘Mmm mmmph.’

Alison seemed to understand. She shifted her weight until her back was to Laura. Laura for her part wriggled around on her butt until their bound hands touched. Laura gave Alison’s fingers a reassuring squeeze and Alison responded similarly. Then Laura set about searching for the knots of Alison’s wrist bonds. She found the knots but they resisted all her attempts to undo them. Clive had torn a thin length of dress material for the second wrist tie and the silk knot wedged hard against the piece of cord also binding Alison was as tight and resistant as a pair of stockings would have been. It was multiply knotted too, which made things worse. Laura found too that it was impossible to raise her arms to get at Alison’s elbow ties. So she could not help there.

‘Mmmm mm?’

Once again Alison’s understanding did not fail her. Laura felt her friend’s fingers plucking at the cord holding her wrists, but those knots also eluded unravelling and Alison’s arms were bound to her body more tightly than Laura’s.

‘Ngggg.’ Alison let a sob escape through her gag.

Over her shoulder Laura looked hopelessly at her friend. Alison’s forehead was beaded with sweat. As if in sympathy, a trickle of sweat ran down the side of Laura’s face and was absorbed by the cloth gag around her mouth.

It’s no use, thought Laura, the bastard’s really done a neat job on us. The only way we might get free is if we could find something sharp to cut our bonds.

But there was nothing in sight.

Laura and Alison did not have to wait long before they heard Clive re-enter the house. When the man saw the two women sitting in a huddled tableau in the centre of the small room, he understood immediately what they had been up to. He grinned fiendishly.

‘Having a little trouble, ladies? I made darn sure your knots were as tight as I could make them. I could have hogtied you both, and blindfolded you for good measure, but I liked the idea of you struggling to get each other free. And, if you had got free, you would have found the door locked. This house is a long way from neighbours, temporarily, in a new street, and no one will hear your cries.’

‘Mmmmph!’

‘Nggggggg!’

‘So scream as much as you like. Except that too much will irritate me and I’ll have to reinforce your mouth bindings. And as for additional hog tying and blindfolding, that will come when it’s time to move you to a more secluded place. And that time’s not far off. Meanwhile, I’m going to have a little fun.’

Clive turned and left the room. Laura and Alison looked hopelessly into each other’s eyes. They were so tightly bound that even struggling was not an option. And their situation had changed. Now Clive’s options had to be different. He could no longer count on conning Alison into doing things for him, signing some documents it seemed to be. So the idiot now had two young bound and gagged women on his hands that he probably did not know what to do with.

The subject of Laura’s thoughts returned, carrying several coils of rope in his hands. He tossed them to the floor at their feet. ‘I won’t worry about untying what’s already holding you,’ he said lightly. ‘I’ll just add to what’s there so neither of you can twitch a muscle.’

Clive started first on Alison. ‘I’ll make this really tight,’ he grated as he looped more rope around her torso. ‘I dunno what game you’re playing at, but I have a feeling you’ve been playing me for a sucker, like a fisherman with a fish.’

He jerked the rope tight, forcing a muffled squeal of pain from Alison’s trapped lips, and tied it off with a series of overhand knots. He then attached a short piece of rope to Alison’s ankles and ran the other end through her elbow ties, passing it back to her ankles again. When he jerked it tight this time, the girl’s feet were crushed against the backs of her thighs. Alison cried out once more, a faint strangled sound. Laura winced in sympathy.

Then the man turned to Laura. He followed the same modus operandi, trapping Laura’s arms and body in additional loops of rope roughly pulled tight. Laura was ready for it, however, and kept to her immediate resolve not to make a sound.

‘Tough bitch eh?’ said Clive, obviously disappointed that his rough handling did not have the same effect on Laura as it had on Alison. He took out his anger by giving Laura a sharp slap on her bottom as he tied a piece of rope to her ankles. Laura gritted her teeth against the gag. and refused to make a sound when her feet were anchored against her butt in the hogtie.

Laura and Alison were now sitting in very tight sidesaddle on the floor. The slightest movement would cause them to lose balance and tumble to their sides, so they sat very still.

But Clive's fun was not yet over. From a pouch on his belt that Laura had taken to be for a mobile phone, he produced a pocketknife that opened with a nasty looking curved blade. If only we'd had that fifteen minutes ago, Laura thought bitterly. But what's bloody Clive going to do with it?

Clive answered her unspoken question. 'You're wearing far too many clothes for my liking.'

Far too many ... ? Very ironic Clive, thought Laura.

As with the roping-up, Clive started with Alison. Very slowly and delicately, chuckling all the while, Clive traced the curves of Alison's breasts with the flat of the blade, running the blunt edge against the black lace. Alison sat very still, not daring to move, scarcely daring to breathe for fear of falling or having the sharp steel nick her skin. Clive followed the contours of her bra to the shoulder straps and delicately cut them one by one before moving on to the rear strap and severing it too with a faint 'snick.' But the bra did not fall from its wearer because it was held by the network of rope and dress material that bound Alison's body.

'I'm not missing you out,' said Clive, turning to Laura. 'Don't feel disappointed.'

With the same slow precision, the man passed the knife blade over Laura's breasts. Laura shivered as the cool steel traversed the soft mounds left revealed by the white lace half-cups. The same thing happened as with Alison. Clive cut the shoulder straps, then the strap behind Laura. The ropes and cloth strips around her held the bra in place.

Clive sniggered. 'When I've finished, if you make the smallest movement ... '

He did not need to finish his sentence. Laura and Alison understood exactly what would happen.

Laura watched as the man returned to Alison and began to make fine traceries with the flat of the knife blade across her thighs and buttocks, then along one hip to insert the sharp edge beneath the string of the black lace panties. Again there was a soft 'snick' as the thin material gave way.

Clive turned to Laura, obviously enjoying each change of scene as he moved from one young woman to the other. This time he ran the flat of the blade across Laura's upper thighs and traced the soft skin of her backside before inserting the business edge of the blade under her white string panties, first cutting the string at one hip and then at the other. Laura and Alison were holding their breaths. The two double 'snick' sounds as the straps each gave way seemed very loud in the small room. Laura looked down to see that all that now held her panties in place was their position between her bound legs.

Laura looked defiantly into Clive's grinning face, red with a mix of embarrassment and fury. Somehow, perhaps because of Laura's moral resistance even while bound and gagged and helpless though almost completely naked, Clive did not turn to Alison to attend to the string at her other hip. Instead, he picked up a remaining strip of silk dress material and continued his monologue as though nothing had happened.

'Time for the blindfolds, and a longer trip for you two. Oh by the way,' he added as he began binding the silk across Alison's eyes, 'your two, um, directors appear to have untied themselves and gone home. One of them left a note saying, "Had lots of fun. See you tomorrow." But they won't see you, will they?' He tightened the knot of Alison's blindfold. 'Now for you.' He picked up another length of silk and reached it over Laura's head.

'We're baack!'

Clive froze. His jaw fell.

Delia Biancoflore the Playwright stood framed in the doorway. She was as immaculate as ever, still wore the stunning black silk chiffon blouse. But what was most striking about her was the snub-nosed revolver that she held in her left hand, the muzzle trained steadily on Clive.

Matchless, Panty Didcaps.

ã Brian Sands 2003