Part 1

I suppose I ought to start by telling you a little something about myself. My
name is Holly Butler. I'm 44 years old, I'm divorced and I have a 24-year-old
daughter, Beth. I work as a high school English teacher and my daughter is a
beautician with a teaching job at a beauty school. This is the story of what
happened to Beth and me a little over two months ago.

It was a Sunday afternoon, a beautiful sunny day. Beth was visiting with me and
both of us were out on the patio of my home, enjoying the sun and having a good
time. Beth and I get along wonderfully and the two of us were chatting and
having a couple of drinks. It was a warm day and we were both barefoot, dressed
in thin white cotton short shorts and matching halter-tops. It was back to work
the next morning but today was my day. It was perfect. We sat there, the two of
us, chatting and laughing, basking in the warm sunshine bathing our bare limbs
and enjoying the last few minutes of freedom before the nightmare.

At about 4 PM, we heard noises coming from inside the house. I got up and went
inside to check it out. When I got inside I froze. There were two men in black
ski masks going through my living room. I found out later that there was a third
man with them but he was upstairs at the time. One of the men, short and stocky
and wearing jeans and a white T- shirt, came toward me. He had a gun in his hand
pointed right at my head. As I stood there, frozen in my tracks, he clamped his
gloved hand tightly over my mouth.

'Not a sound, bitch, or you're dead,' he whispered, jabbing his gun into my
stomach. I nodded my head and he shoved me until my back was up against a wall.
I was paralyzed with fear.

'Anyone else with you, bitch?' he asked, still whispering. I could feel his hot
fetid breath on my face. Terrified as I was, my first thought was to shake my
head. But then I decided it was no good lying: Beth was sure to come in looking
for me and then we would be in even worse trouble. So I nodded yes. The man made
a quick gesture to his companion, a tall slim man dressed in a turtle neck
sweater and chino pants who promptly picked up a duffel bag that was lying on
the floor and dumped its contents on the sofa. I blanched when I saw what came
out: coiled lengths of white cotton rope and rolls of black duct tape together
with plastic zip ties and folded strips of white linen cloth. I had no trouble
figuring out what they were for. The man took some rope and some strips of cloth
and went out to the patio, gun in hand. Meanwhile my assailant removed his hand
from my mouth and pushed the barrel of his gun up against my neck.

'Not a sound, bitch,' he ordered and put his finger across my lips. I nodded
fearfully.

'Take your top off,' he hissed. I shook my head frantically and opened my mouth
to protest. Without warning he dealt me a quick sharp slap across my lips. The
blow stung. The shock of it made me start trembling and I felt tears forming in
my eyes.

'That's just a warning,' he growled, 'now lose the top. Do it now.'

Sobbing quietly I quickly undid my halter and let it drop to the floor. The man
eyed my breasts hungrily then dropped his gaze to my bare legs.

'Now your shorts, pull 'em down,' he ordered me.

Trembling, my eyes blurry with tears, I pulled my thin cotton shorts down to my
ankles and stepped out of them. I faced him, my face red with embarrassment and
humiliation at being stripped to my underwear. The man grinned as he eyed my
lace-trimmed white silk panties.

'Cute panties you've got on,' he sneered. He spun me around and pushed me up
against the wall.

'Lean forward. Forehead against the wall,' he ordered curtly, 'legs spread
wide.' As I was slow to comply I received a couple of swift kicks to my ankles
that knocked my legs apart and a sharp shove between my shoulder blades that
hurled my head forward against the wall.

'Please,' I gasped, 'you're hurting me.'

'You'll get hurt you a lot worse if you don't do what I say,' he snarled. 'Now
put your hands behind your back and keep 'em there while I get some rope.'

The slap to my face, the stripping and the brutal manhandling had crushed any
will I might have had to resist. I was beaten. Listlessly I put my hands behind
my back, dreading what came next. I'd only been been tied up once in my entire
life and though it happened a long time ago and was only a game the memory of it
still rankled. It was when I was in Girl Scouts. I was fourteen or so and our
troop had decided to take two of us as 'prisoners' for a two-hour march through
the woods. I can still recall how humiliated I'd felt when our hands were pulled
behind our backs and securely roped in front of the other girls. I know it was
just a harmless bondage game but I dreaded being tied up. Now I was about to be
bound and gagged by real-life sociopaths. The prospect frightened me to death. I
had a sudden fit of uncontrollable sobbing. And there was still no sign of Beth.

As I stood sobbing helplessly, my hands held behind me for the rope, I looked
over my shoulder and saw my captor move back to the sofa and pick up two hanks
of rope and some gagging material. The masked intruder uncoiled a length of
rope, doubled it up and quickly fashioned it into a slip noose at the bight. He
chuckled when he saw the fear and despair in my eyes as I looked at the rope.

'This one's for you,' he grinned widely. As he came back toward me, holding the
ropes and cloth and tucking his gun into his belt, I saw Beth being pushed into
the living room by the other intruder. She'd been stripped, she was in her
panties, bound and gagged. Her hands were behind her and she had a heavily
knotted strip of white linen cloth drawn tightly over her mouth. Evidently her
mouth had been packed with gagging cloth. Snatches of it protruded out from
under the gag strap. She stumbled awkwardly as she was hustled toward me, unable
to walk normally owing to the short hobble of rope that her captor had fastened
between her ankles. Her eyes were wide with dread and she stared helplessly up
at me as she was forced down on the floor beside me and made to sit with her
back to the wall. As she sat I looked down and caught a brief glimpse of her
crossed wrists behind her back, fastened together with tightly knotted wrappings
of the white cotton rope. The man who had bound her casually kicked her legs
apart as far as the hobble allowed and forced her knees up toward her chest. He
then stood back and stared briefly at her crotch. He seemed satisfied.

'Sit still with your knees up and your legs spread,' he snapped. My daughter
mmpphed at him weakly through her gag. There were tears in her eyes.

I remember wondering dimly if the two of us were going to be raped. I looked
down at Beth. 'It's going to be OK,' I whispered to her without much conviction,
'they're just tying us up, then they'll...' I was interrupted by a sharp
backhanded slap across my cheek that spun my head toward the wall. 'Shut the
fuck up. And keep your eyes front,' my captor growled. A second later, rough
hands grabbed my wrists and crossed them. I felt the noosed rope being slipped
around my wrists and pulled tight with a quick hard tug. The binding was swift
and brutal. I winced repeatedly as the rope was wrapped painfully tight around
my wrists then threaded between the wrists to cinch the bonds even tighter.

'OK cunt, that oughtta hold you for now,' the man snarled as he jerked the knots
taut with a quick tug. The ropes hurt badly. I tried tentatively to move my
wrists inside the bonds but they were unyielding. They allowed no play. Every
movement sent sharp stabs of pain lancing through my wrists. I was helpless and
in pain. I wondered bitterly how long I would have to stay this way.

'Open up,' my captor ordered. In his hands he held a wadded strip of white
cloth. Bound as I was I was unable to resist and as I opened my mouth the
wadding was unceremoniously stuffed inside and shoved down deep into my throat.
As I stood there gagging and retching, a twisted length of the white linen cloth
was drawn between my lips and knotted firmly at the back of my neck to hold the
wadding in place. I retched violently and shook my head in a fit of panic
desperately trying to dislodge the gag but it held mercilessly tight.

'I wouldn't fight that gag if I were you,' I heard my captor grunt, 'you could
end up choking yourself.'

After a brief struggle I gave up trying to dislodge the hateful muzzle. Tears
were running down my cheeks and soaking my gag strap. My shoulders heaved as I
wept bitterly.

'That's right,' the man grunted, 'just keep still. The gag takes getting used
to, give it a chance. You can cry if you want to.'

A feeling of utter helplessness and despair descended on me. Only ten minutes
ago, Beth and I had been on the patio enjoying the sun, the drinks and the
conversation. Now both of us were stripped and tied up, brutally gagged,
helplessly trapped in a nightmare that was only just beginning. I stole another
quick glance at my daughter sitting on the floor against the wall, exposed and
helpless in her bonds and her underwear, forced to sit in that humiliating
position with her knees drawn up and her legs spread. She was sobbing quietly
into her gag. She looked broken.

My captor knelt down at my ankles and quickly fastened a short hobble of rope
between them. Then my bound hands were grasped and I felt the diamond ring I was
wearing on one of my fingers being removed. My neck chain was also taken from
me.

'You won't be needing these any more,' he informed me coldly, 'got any other
jewelry?' I shook my head.

'How about a gun. You got a gun in the house or the car?'

I hesitated. I always keep one hidden in a drawer of the bureau in the living
room. A fat lot of good it had done me, I thought bitterly.

'If you got one, you better lemme know,' the man grated, 'we'll find it anyway
and you'll be sorry you made us waste our time.'

I nodded weakly and grunted 'yes' through my gag.

'OK, you got one. Now show me where it is,' he growled. He gripped my elbow and
turned me around. I pointed at the bureau with my head and grunted again under
my gag. He steered me toward the bureau and I stumbled along in my ankle hobble
as best I could, taking quick short steps to avoid tripping over myself. When we
reached the bureau I turned around and indicated the drawer with my bound hands.
He retrieved the weapon, a snub-nosed Smith and Wesson 38 and hefted it briefly
in his hand, then checked to see if it was loaded. It was.

'Nice piece,' he remarked. 'Any more bullets?'

I indicated another drawer of the bureau. He got the bullets out and pocketed
the gun and the ammunition.

'Good girl,' he grunted, 'time to get you settled down.' He escorted me back to
where Beth was sitting against the wall with her knees pulled up and her legs
open, still sobbing brokenly into her gag. The narrow strip of lacy white
lingerie that concealed her privates was lewdly displayed between her spread
legs. At least she'd been allowed her to keep her panties on, I thought
bitterly.

'On the floor, knees up and legs spread as far as they'll go,' my captor grated
as he shoved me down roughly, 'just like your friend. Do it.'

Both of us made to sit against the wall, I thought bitterly, with our hands tied
behind our backs and our legs parted to show our panties. Why, I wondered. I
fell heavily on my butt and hurriedly drew my knees up and spread my legs as
wide as the hobble ropes allowed.

'Good,' my captor remarked. He gazed briefly at my crotch then turned to the
other man.

'What the fuck we gonna do with these bitches, Slim? We gonna collect 'em or
just fuck 'em and get rid of 'em?' he asked the other intruder.

'I dunno Jerry,' Slim replied, 'we better let Red figure it out. He'll be down
in a minute. He'll decide if they're worth selling. If we collect 'em we're
gonna have to make sure their assholes stay fresh and ready for the buyers after
we fuck 'em. You don't want those holes all torn up and bleeding.'

Beth and I looked at each other. Her eyes were wide over her gag, there was
sheer terror in them. I wondered if she could see the fear in mine. I suddenly
felt very cold.