The Perils of Sheila (MF/F)

[KP Presents]

How many times? Do you know, even with that couple that stayed the weekend and made sure I was never free, there have been too many to mention – but you want me to explain some of them, don’t you? All right then – have you ever heard of the Selfie Snatcher?

Oh, you do, do you? Well, the time he visited me I was going to a party, so I was wearing a brown leather jerkin that fastened up the front, a wide white belt round my waist, and a black long-sleeved top under the jerkin, a patterned scarf tied like a cravat round my neck. I was also wearing dark hose, and knee length leather boots the same shade of brown as my jerkin.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I guess vanity did take over, so I grabbed my phone and took a selfie of myself – and then I felt the pressure against my back, and heard this young make voice tell me to hand over my phone, and then to put my hands behind my back – I was going for a little trip.


Well, I wasn’t going to cause any trouble, so I played along, letting him take my phone and then putting my hands behind my back before I felt some sort of cord forcing them together. More rope was then passed round my upper arms, forcing them against my sides, before a rolled up brown scarf was pulled between my lips and tied tightly round my head to keep me quiet.

From there, I was walked out of my house and into a van parked outside – nobody noticing I was being kidnapped – and made to sit on a rug as the man - a nice-looking young woman – secured my ankles together and then my legs above my knees with more rope.

Hew then took me – somewhere, where he left me on a bed while he tried - I presume to raise my return fee, as he put it. I never found out what that involved – he gave me food and drink, and allowed me to take relief, but eventually I was just returned home.



Some more tea? Anyway, as I said, that was hardly the only experience. And often, they were colourful times as well – I remember one time I was going to another party, one with a sixties theme, and I had put on a long-sleeved white top with a pink dungaree dress, white tights and knee-high pink go-go boots. I even had a beaded necklace on, and I was all ready to go – and then I was grabbed from behind, a gloved hand pressed over my mouth, and a voice whispered that I was not to resist, but to kneel down in front of the seat, and put my hands behind my back.

What was surprising was this was a female voice – but they knew what they were doing as I knelt down, and whoever this was folded my arms behind my back, using cords to secure my wrists to my elbows, and then my forearms together. I then saw the thin white rope as it was passed round my upper arms and forced them against my sides so that I could only wriggle round.

“Don’t do that.”

The order was clear enough, as I felt them put my ankles together, and then heard the squeak of the cords as they were lashed tightly together. I then felt the rope around my legs, above my knees, and the gloved hands on my legs as the rope went between them to make it even tighter.

I then felt something being pressed down over my mouth – some sort of sticking plaster, which made it very difficult for me to talk, before I was turned round and forced to sit on the floor. That was when I saw her – barely twenty years old. Thin, dressed in black – and smiling as she checked the knots, and left me there while she ransacked my house.

She didn’t find much, mind you – mainly because the insurance company was still working through what they were going to pay out for the visit two weeks before…



Sorry? Well, if you insist, of course I can sit here, so long as we continue to talk while you do what you must do.

That previous visit? Ah, two very polite and erudite young men who I answered the door to fifteen minutes after returning home from work. I was wearing a black pinafore dress – I like pinafore dresses – over a black and white blouse, dark hose and knee-high black leather boots.

The men? Identically dressed – black jumpers, jackets pants, shoes, gloves and balaclava masks. The most striking thing about them was the disparity in height – one they drew attention to by calling themselves Mister Tall and Mister Small.

There were other things that they had – the gun and the knife, and the bag with neatly coiled white ropes, one of which Mister Tall drew from the bag as he very politely explained they had to ensure I could not stop them. As he was talking, he drew my arms behind my back and then lashed my wrists tightly together, so that all I could do was wriggle my fingers.

As he then wrapped a longer rope round my arms and upper body, I watched mister Small as he disabled my internet and phone connection, and then he made his way to the rear of my home as I felt the pressure on my arms, forcing them against my sides as the bands framed my chest.

When he had finished, Mister Tall said quite boldly that if I was to tell him where my valuables were, there would be a minimum of mess to clear up – and I felt that was only a fair thing to ask, so eh walked me up to my bedroom. I had put my bedding into the washing machine before leaving for work that morning, so the grey mattress was bare as I sat on it, and he knelt down to start to bind my ankles together.

As he did this and then secured my legs above and below my knees, we discussed a variety of issues – eh had obviously spent some time in Italy, so we discussed da Vinci and renaissance art, as well as choral music. I mean, he was tying me up, he was going to steal from me – and yet we held this level of debate and conversation, and it was strangely fulfilling.

I told him where to look, and he actually proved rather selective – not everything, nothing of sentimental value, nothing that could not be replaced. When he had finished, he then said something like “with deep regret, our conversation must end now” – which was when he pushed a folded cloth into my mouth and tied one of my longer red silk scarves tightly round my head, covering my face from nose to chin, and preventing me from easily raising the alarm.

He then gently helped me to lie on my side, as his partner came back in while he collected what he had not used, and my jewels, and put them in his bag. Both then bowed as he, quite literally, bid me adieu, and then walked out of the room, leaving me listening to Radio 3 and wondering if I could find me scissors in here eventually…


Hmm – I see I am going to be remaining here for some time. Very well then – before I took up my new life and position here, I was involved in one last visit to a friend’s house. I was wearing a brown corduroy pinafore dress over a black long-sleeved top, dark tights and tan knee length leather boots, while my friend Andrea was wearing a blue sleeveless dress over a white top, white tights and black shoes.

His son Alexa was wearing a brown velvet dress over a striped jumper, dark hose and high black fabric boots, and we had just been sitting, talking and making arrangements to meet up after my move, when the masked men came in and secured our wrists together behind our backs. I was then made to stand up and leave the room with two of the men while the others took care of my friends…

I was then made to sit on a chair while one of the men took a longer rope and used it to secure my arms against my sides, while the second man knelt down and started to secure my ankles together, the leather squeaking as my boots rubbed together.

He then secured my legs together below my knees with more rope, as his partner rolled up a red and brown patterned headscarf and tied a large knot in the middle of the band – a knot which, a few moments later, was sitting between my teeth as he tied the band round my head, while I looked at his partner through my glasses. I was more worried about Andrea and Alexa than myself – so I sat there, trying not to panic as they watched over me.

Eventually there was a knock on the door, and they left me there, listening to the footsteps and the doors opening and closing – and that was when I pushed myself to my feet and jumped to the door, looking out and then making my way along the hallway to the main room. Andrea and Alexa were lying on the floor, as tightly bound and gagged as me – rolling around as they looked up at me, and tried to call for help through the silk knots in their mouths, the material steadily getting wetter and wetter…



At any rate, I have been working and serving here for six months now – but I suppose it was inevitable I would end up in this situation again. I am glad you took the opportunity to talk however, and I want you to know I fhrhrghhdduh….


He passed the folded red scarf round her head and pulled it tight, keeping the cloth he had pushed into the mouth there as he secured the ends at the base of her head. The grey-haired woman was wearing a pink herringbone tweed jacket and skirt, the grey blouse under the jacket and the white collar showing at the front.

She was sitting in the chair, her arms round the back where he had secured her wrists tightly together and then passed the thin brown rope round her body to make sure she stayed in the seat. Another length of thin brown rope held her legs together above her knees, while ever booted ankles were tied to the front legs of the chair.

That was the one incongruous part of her outfit -she looked every inch the respectable CoE minister, but those mid-calf gold leather boots were unique. They just seemed to add to her character – and her kindness, her courage, and her ability to listen.

After all, as he knelt down to open the safe in the church office, that was what she could do now – listen…