Family Business (Request) (MFf/FFffmm)
Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2024 5:30 pm
"Fresh coffee?" Lois asked her husband, turning away from the kitchen counter as she held the steaming cannister with one hand.
"Please," the dark-haired man in the crisp grey suit, who was sitting at the table, skimming some articles on his phone.
He nudged the ceramic cup forward, and Lois poured more of the dark, rich beverage; filling it just under the brim.
"Thanks, honey," he told her, picking the mug up before taking another sip.
"What're you reading?" she inquired, as she fixed herself a cup and joined him at the table.
"Local listings," he told her, continuing to swipe the screen down. "Apparently, it's a good time to buy houses right now; everyone is selling."
"Gee, wonder why that could be," Lois mused, as she patted the man on his shoulder, and resumed her breakfast she'd laid out on her plate: a nice spread of scrambled eggs, toast & bacon.
"Finished yours quickly," she remarked, munching on some toast.
"Well, lots to do today," the husband answered, as he powered down the cell phone and took the mug again, flashing his wife a big smile.
"If you're that eager; you want to clear out the 2nd floor, then?" she asked, lifting a eyebrow expectantly.
"Let me guess; so you don't have to deal with the stairs?"
"You know me so well," she smiled. "Thanks, John."
The man stood up from the table, finishing the second cup of coffee before picking up a rumpled black mask that had been laying off to the side.
"You think our daughter is doing okay?" asked Lois, in between bites as she watched her husband don the mask; pulling the balaclava down over his face, leaving only his eyes visible through a narrow slit in the fabric.
"She's fine," John assured confidently, adjusting the balaclava until it was even on his face. "The hard part's already over."
"Perhaps I should check on her..." Lois said uncertainly, pushing away the breakfast plate to stand.
"She needs to get accustomed to handling things on her own," the husband insisted, as he bent over to retrieve the sack he'd left on the kitchen floor. "She won't learn if we keep doting on her."
"I suppose you're right," Lois breathed, though still seemed anxious.
John rested a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. "Tell you what...let's get the job done up here; then we'll go and get her together," he promised. "We can take some breakfast for her to-go."
Lois took her husband's hand, nodding with a smile. "Very well," she told him, pulling away from him as she retrieved her own mask she'd left by the kitchen sink, and slipping it down over her dark hair.
She turned to lock-eyes with her partner, brown eyes flashing through the balaclava. "Shall we begin?"
He nodded, and took the sack with him as he headed for the upstairs, passing several photos framed in the hallway of a lovely brown-haired lady and her two smiling kids, a boy & girl with matching-colored hair.
Lois started humming busily as she grabbed her bag and went towards where the office would be, thinking that perhaps the lady who lived here might have something of worth in one of the drawers.
Her thoughts drifted back to her daughter, who was handling things downstairs while her parents worked. There was that nagging sense of worry about bringing her along for one of their "jobs"; but the mother quickly pushed those thoughts away.
Ophelia was a capable young lady now, she thought to herself as she opened the door to the office. She'd be fine.
Besides...they had tied up the family who lived in the home quite well, after all!
--
"Plmph! Ymph dnm't hmph tm dmph thsmph...!"
Ophelia sighed, looking up from the book she'd procured from one of the rooms upstairs. "Please be quiet," she said politely to the lady making the noise. "I'm trying to read."
But the brown-haired woman continued to plead in the adolescent girl's direction, attempting to lean forward and speak as best she could, as she shook her head in frustration.
The reason why the lady couldn't speak properly was because Ophelia's father had crammed a sock into her mouth, and tied a white cloth tightly over it to hold it in. This hadn't deterred the woman, however, as she had continued to mumble shortly after Ophelia's parents had departed the basement, leaving the single child to tend to her guard duty.
"Plmph!" the woman urged again, her long brown hair strewn about from her struggling. "Lmph umph gmph!"
"Look," Ophelia finally responded, closing the book & un-crossing her legs from where she'd been sitting. "I get it. You're upset."
"Mmmph...!" was the response that Ophelia received, as the woman grunted through the gag & pulled against the ropes holding her.
Her father had tied her up good...the room in the backroom of the basement had a metal pole that was embedded into the concrete floor all the way up to the ceiling; so her dad had made the mother slip her hands around the pole behind her back before binding her wrists. The mother had been preparing breakfast in the early hours of the morning, and so had still been in her pink robe...making sure that the sash of the robe had been properly fastened to ensure that the robe kept her decently covered-up; Ophelia's father had then taken lengths of white rope and wrapped them around the mother's arms & torso; pulling the cord above & below the lady's breast to ensure the ropes could not be slipped out from, before securing her legs to the pole at the knees & ankles.
The mother wiggled in her rigid, upright position against the pole; the folds of her pink bathrobe neatly tucked under the cinches of the rope binding her. She couldn't move and inch, let alone free herself from the basement pillar she now found herself tethered to; and so had been reduced to merely shaking her head & vocalizing through the gag covering her mouth.
"Nothing bad is going to happen to you," Ophelia tried, attempting to console the haggard woman. The daughter stood up from her chair, setting the book down on the seat as she did so. Like her parents, Ophelia had dressed in dark clothing & wore a mask...like her mother, she wore a black turtleneck sweater, jeans, boots & had on a charcoal balaclava with her long black hair tucked underneath to obscure her face. Anonymity was a key part of their job.
"We just need to keep you tied up for a bit while we take a few things," Ophelia went on, approaching where the brown-haired mother had been secured. "It's nothing that you can't live without."
But the mother continued to shake her head, the sock in her mouth obstructing protests to the contrary. "Kmmpf mmph!" the mother tried to say through the gag, as she jerked her chin past Ophelia to somewhere behind her. "Lmt mmph chrldrmph gmph!"
Ophelia arched an eyebrow, turning to regard where the mother was directing her gestures.
The children had been MUCH quieter than their mother...they sat in wooden chairs that had been unstacked from the corner of the basement storage room, placed side-to-side. Ophelia had observed her mother first secure the two siblings upstairs by tying their wrists behind their backs. Then, keeping a hand over the brown-haired boy's mouth, Ophelia's mom had instructed that she do the same for the daughter; as they led the siblings down into the basement with their mother; stifling their cries as they kept their palms pressed over their lips.
After they had settled-down was when Ophelia's mother finished tying them up: Ophelia started with the boy, easing him into the first chair while Ophelia kept the sister quiet. While her father had busily been securing the mother, Ophelia's mom had wrapped rope around the brother's arms to hold him against the chair, and then tied his legs together.
"Mom, what's going on?" the boy had said as he'd watched himself get tied up, his head snapping back and forth from his mother against the pole & his sister being held by Ophelia in the corner. "Who are these people, and why are they tying us u...UMPH!?"
The boy had had his words cut short as Ophelia's mother had lowered a piece of white duct tape down over his face & pulled it firmly over his lips to silence him; followed by two more pieces smoothed over his mouth. The mother had been gagged by this point, and had howled from her trapped position against the pole as Ophelia's mom taped the son's mouth.
Gagging the hostages, Ophelia's mother had once told her, was a necessary aspect to their job...while it could only prevent a person from yelling only to a certain point; it did keep the hostage from talking & asking probing questions.
Ophelia had watched as the boy had mumbled through the duct tape for several minutes, eyes wide has he watched his sister be taken by Ophelia's mother & secured to the chair in the same way next to him.
"You need to make sure that the ropes are tight; but not so uncomfortable that you hurt them," Ophelia's mother had explained, tightening knots around the daughter's ankles once she'd finished & then retrieving the roll of white tape.
"Please, miss, you don't have to do that to me," the sister had said, when she saw Ophelia's mom rip off several more strands of duct tape from the roll. "I won't...MMPH!"
"A gag also helps prevent them from trying to bargain with you," Ophelia's mother demonstrated, as she silenced the girl with a piece of tape held against her mouth. She smoothed the two other pieces over the first, and stepped back to inspect the trussed children.
Both siblings had then proceeded to kick out with their bound feet, as they rocked from side-to-side in the wooden chairs they were now bound to, grunting into the duct tape now covering both their mouths.
Soon, the basement was a flurry of fervent mumbling, creaking chairs & ropes, and stomping feet; as the family of hostages had been successfully bound & gagged in their own basement.
"Alright, honey," Ophelia's father had said, as both he and Ophelia's mother had placed comforting hands on their daughter's shoulders. "All you have to do is keep watch & make sure they don't escape. Good luck!"
And so Ophelia had been left to wrangle this unfortunate family...and while the brother & sister had eventually settled into a quiet resignation in their chairs; the mother had persisted in her attempts to convince Ophelia to free them.
"No way; not gonna happen," Ophelia told the mother with a shake of her head, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at the bound kids. "They stay right there, just like that."
"Mnt lmst tkmph thm gmgs mnf sm wmph cnmph tlkmph," the mother pleaded, lifting the cloth covering her mouth.
"No, the gags stay on, too," Ophelia muttered, pinching her nose in irritation through the mask. "You all don't need to talk to each other."
Ophelia cast a glance over at the kids, who silently sat regarding the younger burglar who was now their jailer from beneath the tape over their mouths.
"Besides, it seems like those gags are finally working," Ophelia mused. "They finally stopped their mumbling."
The brother & sister nodded slowly in unison, seemingly now willing to cooperate. Ophelia's mother had explained this particular phenomenon; in that while initially a person might resist their captivity, over time a hostage would grow accustomed to their situation, and calm down.
“So long as you make it clear that you aren’t there to hurt them; they realize that it’s better to just go along,” came yet another phantom remark, from another training session with her mother a while back. “Why bother trying to escape or irritating your kidnapper?”
Ophelia considered these words as she walked over to check on the sibling’s ropes…while the brother and sister had trashed around a bit; it seemed that the knots had held firm.
“Mmph,” the boy murmured, as Ophelia ran her thumbs back over the white tape covering his mouth, making sure it was still stuck in place.
“All just a precautionary measure,” the teenage burglar assured, as she smoothed the sister’s taped mouth in the same manner.
The mother had bristeled as Ophelia approached her children, and then relaxed as she walked back over to where she stood trussed to the pole.
“So, we going to reduce the volume a bit?” Ophelia inquired.
The mother looked over the adolescent’s shoulder, locking eyes with her kids, then gazed back and gave a slight nod.
“Fantastic,” Ophelia sighed, turning to go back to her book.
As she reached down to pick up the paperback, however; she saw that her mother had come back downstairs, and was standing in the doorway.
“These three still behaving?” Ophelia’s mother, Lois, said beneath her mask, as she came over to stand amidst the gathering. Lois gave the seemingly well-behaved kids two thumbs-up; which amusingly caused the brother & sister to look at one another in confusion.
“More or less,” Ophelia reported, cocking a head towards the mother. “She just calmed down.”
“Good timing; because I need a quick word,” Ophelia’s mom said, moving to stand in front of the robed woman. Ophelia watched as her mother slipped the gag down from her he brown-haired lady’s face; and plucked the damp sock from her mouth.
“Ah…please, we can…mmph!” the mother started to say slowly; before Lois placed her gloved hand over her mouth to stop her.
“Shh…I just need the combination to your office safe,” Lois said to her, giving the mother time to process the request before removing her hand.
“But…oh, fine,” the mother sputtered, taking a moment to recollect.
She gave the three numbers for the safe code, and Ophelia saw her mother nod.
“Heading up there to try it now,” she told the captive mother, turning to step away. “Hopefully, I don’t have to come back down here to ask again.”
Lois stopped to regard her accomplice daughter, who had immediately moved to pick up the roll of tape resting on a nearby table.
“Good,” the mother approved, as she watched the burgeonining kidnapper. “Go ahead and get them properly quiet; we shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Got it,” Ophelia answered, as she went back over to where the brown-haired mother was stuck.
“You seem like a nice young girl,” the robed woman said to Ophelia as she approached, and Lois started back upstairs. “Why are you doing this to us?”
“Nothing personal,” Ophelia said, shrugging as she stood in front of the mother. “It’s just a way to make money.”
“Surely you could find a job, or something more honest…GMPH!”
The suggestion was cut off; as Ophelia produced the other sock given to her by her father, and pushed it into the mother’s mouth.
“A job at a fast-food restaurant, or an internship or whatever, doesn’t pay as well,” Ophelia said simply, as she tore a strip of white tape from the roll.
The mother’s brow furrowed as Ophelia placed the duct tape over her lips to seal the sock inside her mouth; and added two more pieces of the tape to cover it completely. Then, after fussing with the ends behind her neck, Ophelia pulled the gag back over the woman’s taped mouth to finish silencing her.
“Hmmph…” the mother groaned, realizing that her short time without a gag had passed.
Ophelia then produced two more handkerchiefs from her satchel, and went back over to the siblings sitting in their chairs. “Time to make you both REALLY quiet,” she said to them, as Ophelia pulled the two cloths tightly over their taped mouths.
The children grunted in surprised as Ophelia added to their gags. Their surprised was doubled; when Ophelia took out two MORE cloths and proceeded to fold them into bands, and blindfold the two chair-bound kids.
“Our masks protect our identities,” Ophelia’s mother had taught her. “But blindfold’s make it more difficult for hostages to escape.”
The children continued to mumble underneath their gags, as their heads darted in random directions, no longer able to see their captor with their eyes covered.
“And now we wait,” Ophelia declared, smirking slightly as she saw the children’s head tilt slightly in her direction at the sound of her voice.
Minutes passed, and Ophelia’s mother returned to the basement level.
“We’ve got enough of the loot,” she told her daughter. “Time for us to leave now.”
“Cmph ymph lmbt umph gmph nwmph?” the gagged mother asked, leaving against the ropes holding her to the pole.
“We’ll leave an anonymous phone call to the police in about an hour or so,” Lois told the other mother. “They’ll come and untie you and your kids then…until then, just stay put.”
Ophelia’s mother lightly tussled the hair of the two gagged & blindfolded children, before turning to her daughter. “Shall we?” she beckoned.
Both she and Ophelia went back upstairs, rejoining the father as he was carrying the last bag of spoils out the front door of the house.
“How’d our girl do?” he asked as the rest of his family joined him in going out the door, where he’d parked their van in the driveway.
“Marvelously,” the wife responded with pride, lightly patting Ophelia on her shoulder.
The teenager shrugged the gesture off with embarrassment. “It was just a babysitting job,” she responded, face reddening beneath the balaclava.
“Nonsense,” the father said to her, as they piled the stolen loot into the back of the van. “The whole operation revolves around keeping the hostages under control.”
“Well, when am I going to actually going to pull off a robbery solo?” Ophelia pouted, as she buckled up in her passenger seat.
“Oh, when we actually “show you the ropes”; as it were,” her mother joked.
“Ha, ha,” Ophelia sighed.
They started the engine to the van, pulling out from the driveway.
“In all seriousness, you did well,” the father remarked, as they drove back unassumingly away from the property. “I think maybe we’ll let you take lead on the next one.”
“Really!?” Ophelia said, perking up slightly at the prospect.
“You’ve earned it,” the father said, as they coasted down the road, disappearing into obscurity.
(Part 1 of 3)
"Please," the dark-haired man in the crisp grey suit, who was sitting at the table, skimming some articles on his phone.
He nudged the ceramic cup forward, and Lois poured more of the dark, rich beverage; filling it just under the brim.
"Thanks, honey," he told her, picking the mug up before taking another sip.
"What're you reading?" she inquired, as she fixed herself a cup and joined him at the table.
"Local listings," he told her, continuing to swipe the screen down. "Apparently, it's a good time to buy houses right now; everyone is selling."
"Gee, wonder why that could be," Lois mused, as she patted the man on his shoulder, and resumed her breakfast she'd laid out on her plate: a nice spread of scrambled eggs, toast & bacon.
"Finished yours quickly," she remarked, munching on some toast.
"Well, lots to do today," the husband answered, as he powered down the cell phone and took the mug again, flashing his wife a big smile.
"If you're that eager; you want to clear out the 2nd floor, then?" she asked, lifting a eyebrow expectantly.
"Let me guess; so you don't have to deal with the stairs?"
"You know me so well," she smiled. "Thanks, John."
The man stood up from the table, finishing the second cup of coffee before picking up a rumpled black mask that had been laying off to the side.
"You think our daughter is doing okay?" asked Lois, in between bites as she watched her husband don the mask; pulling the balaclava down over his face, leaving only his eyes visible through a narrow slit in the fabric.
"She's fine," John assured confidently, adjusting the balaclava until it was even on his face. "The hard part's already over."
"Perhaps I should check on her..." Lois said uncertainly, pushing away the breakfast plate to stand.
"She needs to get accustomed to handling things on her own," the husband insisted, as he bent over to retrieve the sack he'd left on the kitchen floor. "She won't learn if we keep doting on her."
"I suppose you're right," Lois breathed, though still seemed anxious.
John rested a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. "Tell you what...let's get the job done up here; then we'll go and get her together," he promised. "We can take some breakfast for her to-go."
Lois took her husband's hand, nodding with a smile. "Very well," she told him, pulling away from him as she retrieved her own mask she'd left by the kitchen sink, and slipping it down over her dark hair.
She turned to lock-eyes with her partner, brown eyes flashing through the balaclava. "Shall we begin?"
He nodded, and took the sack with him as he headed for the upstairs, passing several photos framed in the hallway of a lovely brown-haired lady and her two smiling kids, a boy & girl with matching-colored hair.
Lois started humming busily as she grabbed her bag and went towards where the office would be, thinking that perhaps the lady who lived here might have something of worth in one of the drawers.
Her thoughts drifted back to her daughter, who was handling things downstairs while her parents worked. There was that nagging sense of worry about bringing her along for one of their "jobs"; but the mother quickly pushed those thoughts away.
Ophelia was a capable young lady now, she thought to herself as she opened the door to the office. She'd be fine.
Besides...they had tied up the family who lived in the home quite well, after all!
--
"Plmph! Ymph dnm't hmph tm dmph thsmph...!"
Ophelia sighed, looking up from the book she'd procured from one of the rooms upstairs. "Please be quiet," she said politely to the lady making the noise. "I'm trying to read."
But the brown-haired woman continued to plead in the adolescent girl's direction, attempting to lean forward and speak as best she could, as she shook her head in frustration.
The reason why the lady couldn't speak properly was because Ophelia's father had crammed a sock into her mouth, and tied a white cloth tightly over it to hold it in. This hadn't deterred the woman, however, as she had continued to mumble shortly after Ophelia's parents had departed the basement, leaving the single child to tend to her guard duty.
"Plmph!" the woman urged again, her long brown hair strewn about from her struggling. "Lmph umph gmph!"
"Look," Ophelia finally responded, closing the book & un-crossing her legs from where she'd been sitting. "I get it. You're upset."
"Mmmph...!" was the response that Ophelia received, as the woman grunted through the gag & pulled against the ropes holding her.
Her father had tied her up good...the room in the backroom of the basement had a metal pole that was embedded into the concrete floor all the way up to the ceiling; so her dad had made the mother slip her hands around the pole behind her back before binding her wrists. The mother had been preparing breakfast in the early hours of the morning, and so had still been in her pink robe...making sure that the sash of the robe had been properly fastened to ensure that the robe kept her decently covered-up; Ophelia's father had then taken lengths of white rope and wrapped them around the mother's arms & torso; pulling the cord above & below the lady's breast to ensure the ropes could not be slipped out from, before securing her legs to the pole at the knees & ankles.
The mother wiggled in her rigid, upright position against the pole; the folds of her pink bathrobe neatly tucked under the cinches of the rope binding her. She couldn't move and inch, let alone free herself from the basement pillar she now found herself tethered to; and so had been reduced to merely shaking her head & vocalizing through the gag covering her mouth.
"Nothing bad is going to happen to you," Ophelia tried, attempting to console the haggard woman. The daughter stood up from her chair, setting the book down on the seat as she did so. Like her parents, Ophelia had dressed in dark clothing & wore a mask...like her mother, she wore a black turtleneck sweater, jeans, boots & had on a charcoal balaclava with her long black hair tucked underneath to obscure her face. Anonymity was a key part of their job.
"We just need to keep you tied up for a bit while we take a few things," Ophelia went on, approaching where the brown-haired mother had been secured. "It's nothing that you can't live without."
But the mother continued to shake her head, the sock in her mouth obstructing protests to the contrary. "Kmmpf mmph!" the mother tried to say through the gag, as she jerked her chin past Ophelia to somewhere behind her. "Lmt mmph chrldrmph gmph!"
Ophelia arched an eyebrow, turning to regard where the mother was directing her gestures.
The children had been MUCH quieter than their mother...they sat in wooden chairs that had been unstacked from the corner of the basement storage room, placed side-to-side. Ophelia had observed her mother first secure the two siblings upstairs by tying their wrists behind their backs. Then, keeping a hand over the brown-haired boy's mouth, Ophelia's mom had instructed that she do the same for the daughter; as they led the siblings down into the basement with their mother; stifling their cries as they kept their palms pressed over their lips.
After they had settled-down was when Ophelia's mother finished tying them up: Ophelia started with the boy, easing him into the first chair while Ophelia kept the sister quiet. While her father had busily been securing the mother, Ophelia's mom had wrapped rope around the brother's arms to hold him against the chair, and then tied his legs together.
"Mom, what's going on?" the boy had said as he'd watched himself get tied up, his head snapping back and forth from his mother against the pole & his sister being held by Ophelia in the corner. "Who are these people, and why are they tying us u...UMPH!?"
The boy had had his words cut short as Ophelia's mother had lowered a piece of white duct tape down over his face & pulled it firmly over his lips to silence him; followed by two more pieces smoothed over his mouth. The mother had been gagged by this point, and had howled from her trapped position against the pole as Ophelia's mom taped the son's mouth.
Gagging the hostages, Ophelia's mother had once told her, was a necessary aspect to their job...while it could only prevent a person from yelling only to a certain point; it did keep the hostage from talking & asking probing questions.
Ophelia had watched as the boy had mumbled through the duct tape for several minutes, eyes wide has he watched his sister be taken by Ophelia's mother & secured to the chair in the same way next to him.
"You need to make sure that the ropes are tight; but not so uncomfortable that you hurt them," Ophelia's mother had explained, tightening knots around the daughter's ankles once she'd finished & then retrieving the roll of white tape.
"Please, miss, you don't have to do that to me," the sister had said, when she saw Ophelia's mom rip off several more strands of duct tape from the roll. "I won't...MMPH!"
"A gag also helps prevent them from trying to bargain with you," Ophelia's mother demonstrated, as she silenced the girl with a piece of tape held against her mouth. She smoothed the two other pieces over the first, and stepped back to inspect the trussed children.
Both siblings had then proceeded to kick out with their bound feet, as they rocked from side-to-side in the wooden chairs they were now bound to, grunting into the duct tape now covering both their mouths.
Soon, the basement was a flurry of fervent mumbling, creaking chairs & ropes, and stomping feet; as the family of hostages had been successfully bound & gagged in their own basement.
"Alright, honey," Ophelia's father had said, as both he and Ophelia's mother had placed comforting hands on their daughter's shoulders. "All you have to do is keep watch & make sure they don't escape. Good luck!"
And so Ophelia had been left to wrangle this unfortunate family...and while the brother & sister had eventually settled into a quiet resignation in their chairs; the mother had persisted in her attempts to convince Ophelia to free them.
"No way; not gonna happen," Ophelia told the mother with a shake of her head, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at the bound kids. "They stay right there, just like that."
"Mnt lmst tkmph thm gmgs mnf sm wmph cnmph tlkmph," the mother pleaded, lifting the cloth covering her mouth.
"No, the gags stay on, too," Ophelia muttered, pinching her nose in irritation through the mask. "You all don't need to talk to each other."
Ophelia cast a glance over at the kids, who silently sat regarding the younger burglar who was now their jailer from beneath the tape over their mouths.
"Besides, it seems like those gags are finally working," Ophelia mused. "They finally stopped their mumbling."
The brother & sister nodded slowly in unison, seemingly now willing to cooperate. Ophelia's mother had explained this particular phenomenon; in that while initially a person might resist their captivity, over time a hostage would grow accustomed to their situation, and calm down.
“So long as you make it clear that you aren’t there to hurt them; they realize that it’s better to just go along,” came yet another phantom remark, from another training session with her mother a while back. “Why bother trying to escape or irritating your kidnapper?”
Ophelia considered these words as she walked over to check on the sibling’s ropes…while the brother and sister had trashed around a bit; it seemed that the knots had held firm.
“Mmph,” the boy murmured, as Ophelia ran her thumbs back over the white tape covering his mouth, making sure it was still stuck in place.
“All just a precautionary measure,” the teenage burglar assured, as she smoothed the sister’s taped mouth in the same manner.
The mother had bristeled as Ophelia approached her children, and then relaxed as she walked back over to where she stood trussed to the pole.
“So, we going to reduce the volume a bit?” Ophelia inquired.
The mother looked over the adolescent’s shoulder, locking eyes with her kids, then gazed back and gave a slight nod.
“Fantastic,” Ophelia sighed, turning to go back to her book.
As she reached down to pick up the paperback, however; she saw that her mother had come back downstairs, and was standing in the doorway.
“These three still behaving?” Ophelia’s mother, Lois, said beneath her mask, as she came over to stand amidst the gathering. Lois gave the seemingly well-behaved kids two thumbs-up; which amusingly caused the brother & sister to look at one another in confusion.
“More or less,” Ophelia reported, cocking a head towards the mother. “She just calmed down.”
“Good timing; because I need a quick word,” Ophelia’s mom said, moving to stand in front of the robed woman. Ophelia watched as her mother slipped the gag down from her he brown-haired lady’s face; and plucked the damp sock from her mouth.
“Ah…please, we can…mmph!” the mother started to say slowly; before Lois placed her gloved hand over her mouth to stop her.
“Shh…I just need the combination to your office safe,” Lois said to her, giving the mother time to process the request before removing her hand.
“But…oh, fine,” the mother sputtered, taking a moment to recollect.
She gave the three numbers for the safe code, and Ophelia saw her mother nod.
“Heading up there to try it now,” she told the captive mother, turning to step away. “Hopefully, I don’t have to come back down here to ask again.”
Lois stopped to regard her accomplice daughter, who had immediately moved to pick up the roll of tape resting on a nearby table.
“Good,” the mother approved, as she watched the burgeonining kidnapper. “Go ahead and get them properly quiet; we shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Got it,” Ophelia answered, as she went back over to where the brown-haired mother was stuck.
“You seem like a nice young girl,” the robed woman said to Ophelia as she approached, and Lois started back upstairs. “Why are you doing this to us?”
“Nothing personal,” Ophelia said, shrugging as she stood in front of the mother. “It’s just a way to make money.”
“Surely you could find a job, or something more honest…GMPH!”
The suggestion was cut off; as Ophelia produced the other sock given to her by her father, and pushed it into the mother’s mouth.
“A job at a fast-food restaurant, or an internship or whatever, doesn’t pay as well,” Ophelia said simply, as she tore a strip of white tape from the roll.
The mother’s brow furrowed as Ophelia placed the duct tape over her lips to seal the sock inside her mouth; and added two more pieces of the tape to cover it completely. Then, after fussing with the ends behind her neck, Ophelia pulled the gag back over the woman’s taped mouth to finish silencing her.
“Hmmph…” the mother groaned, realizing that her short time without a gag had passed.
Ophelia then produced two more handkerchiefs from her satchel, and went back over to the siblings sitting in their chairs. “Time to make you both REALLY quiet,” she said to them, as Ophelia pulled the two cloths tightly over their taped mouths.
The children grunted in surprised as Ophelia added to their gags. Their surprised was doubled; when Ophelia took out two MORE cloths and proceeded to fold them into bands, and blindfold the two chair-bound kids.
“Our masks protect our identities,” Ophelia’s mother had taught her. “But blindfold’s make it more difficult for hostages to escape.”
The children continued to mumble underneath their gags, as their heads darted in random directions, no longer able to see their captor with their eyes covered.
“And now we wait,” Ophelia declared, smirking slightly as she saw the children’s head tilt slightly in her direction at the sound of her voice.
Minutes passed, and Ophelia’s mother returned to the basement level.
“We’ve got enough of the loot,” she told her daughter. “Time for us to leave now.”
“Cmph ymph lmbt umph gmph nwmph?” the gagged mother asked, leaving against the ropes holding her to the pole.
“We’ll leave an anonymous phone call to the police in about an hour or so,” Lois told the other mother. “They’ll come and untie you and your kids then…until then, just stay put.”
Ophelia’s mother lightly tussled the hair of the two gagged & blindfolded children, before turning to her daughter. “Shall we?” she beckoned.
Both she and Ophelia went back upstairs, rejoining the father as he was carrying the last bag of spoils out the front door of the house.
“How’d our girl do?” he asked as the rest of his family joined him in going out the door, where he’d parked their van in the driveway.
“Marvelously,” the wife responded with pride, lightly patting Ophelia on her shoulder.
The teenager shrugged the gesture off with embarrassment. “It was just a babysitting job,” she responded, face reddening beneath the balaclava.
“Nonsense,” the father said to her, as they piled the stolen loot into the back of the van. “The whole operation revolves around keeping the hostages under control.”
“Well, when am I going to actually going to pull off a robbery solo?” Ophelia pouted, as she buckled up in her passenger seat.
“Oh, when we actually “show you the ropes”; as it were,” her mother joked.
“Ha, ha,” Ophelia sighed.
They started the engine to the van, pulling out from the driveway.
“In all seriousness, you did well,” the father remarked, as they drove back unassumingly away from the property. “I think maybe we’ll let you take lead on the next one.”
“Really!?” Ophelia said, perking up slightly at the prospect.
“You’ve earned it,” the father said, as they coasted down the road, disappearing into obscurity.
(Part 1 of 3)