A CLEAR MESSAGE by Shearingly
She looked up as two men walked in the front door, one of them carrying a leather attaché case. She tucked a strand of reddish-blond hair behind her ear, smiled and said, “Welcome to Jerry’s Travel Agency. How may we help you today?”
One of the men sat down in the chair across from her desk and said, “I’m thinking of taking a trip.” The other man walked around the spacious office looking at the brochures.
“You’ve come to the right place.” she responded, “My name is Tess, tell me where you would like to go?”
He asked her about possible trip destinations while he waited for the one other customer to finish up. As soon as that other customer had walked out the door, he interrupted her, “I need to use the restroom, would you show me where to go?” Usually they didn’t let customers use the restroom, but the way he said it was more of an order than a request.
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She led him into the back room, which they used for storage and then to the restrooms. She pointed to the men’s room door then went back to her desk. In a few minutes he came back and said that there was a plumbing problem and water was all over the floor. She immediately went back to check it out, both men followed her.
The travel agency was in a building that had been a small health club. When it was remodeled they left the large restrooms, which included lockers and showers, untouched. She pushed the door open and stepped inside the men’s room. She looked around and didn’t see any water on the floor. She turned to go back and there he stood, between her and the door. “Where is the water?” she asked.
He took a step towards her, then pointed toward the back toilet stall, “Back there,” he said.
She walked over closer and bent down for a closer look. She never heard him coming but all of a sudden he had one of her arms twisted painfully behind her back and a hand over her mouth. “Don’t scream,” he whispered in her ear. He sat her down on one of the locker room benches, then using some cords from his pocket, quickly tied her hands together and her feet. He then put a strip of duct tape over her mouth so she couldn’t talk.
His partner went out and spoke to the other woman in the office, “Ma’am, Tess said she needs you back here with the plumbing problem.” The woman, her name tag said “Mandy” got up and hurried toward the back, he followed. The other man turned the sign around to say “CLOSED” and twisted the knob, locking the door.
Mandy walked in and called out, “Tess, what do you need?” She turned the corner and saw Tess tied up then she screamed. He was right behind her and shoved her hard. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. Mandy looked up at him, “What do you want?” she said.
“Mandy, your husband has been skimming money from this travel agency and the owner told us to send him a clear message that he can’t do that.”
“What are you going to do?” Mandy asked, still sprawled out on the tile floor, her eyes now wide with fear. The fact that she didn’t act puzzled or deny the charge made him conclude that she knew about it all.
“Well, he might get careless some day and be the victim of a hit and run accident, or we could just go get him rough him up, shoot out his kneecaps and put him in the hospital for a few weeks. Would you like us to do that?”
“Oh, no, don’t do that!” she pleaded.
“O.K., we won’t touch him. We will send the message to him through you.”
“I’ll tell him whatever you want me to.” Mandy said.
“But you might forget the message or get the words garbled up. We need to make sure he gets a clear message. No, we’ve already decided what we’re going to do.”
Right then his partner came in carrying one of their phones and trailing the phone line behind him. “All set, boss.” he said. He dialed a number from memory and spoke into the phone. “We’re here and everybody’s ready.” After a pause, he said, “O.K.” He touched a button on the phone and it activated the speaker phone feature.
A voice came from the phone, “Hello Mandy, Tess.”
“Who are you?” Mandy cried out.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” the voice continued. “I have here with me a gentleman you both know. In fact, he is the man responsible for your current situation.”
“George? Do you have George there?” Mandy asked. “Is he all right?”
“Oh, yes,” the voice said, “he is here and he is fine, but I’m sorry he isn’t able to speak right now.” They heard a muffled voice, trying to talk through a gag. “Now, be quiet George, a little skit has been prepared and these ladies are going to put it on for you. Sit back, relax and enjoy it.”
The voice on the phone said, “Go ahead, we’re listening.” Then he was silent.
“Mandy, stand up and take off your blouse,” the first of the two men said.
“Why do you want me to do that? Please don’t make me!” There were more muffled sounds from the speakerphone, then sounds of a scuffle and the unmistakable sound of a human hand coming in contact with a human face. The voice said, “There, I think George will co- operate, how about Mandy?”
She slowly stood up and reached for the buttons of her blouse. The second man began narrating the scene for the phone listeners.
“She’s unbuttoning her blouse. It looks like an expensive silk blouse, rose colored. Now she’s lifting the tails out of the waistband of her skirt. Now she is finished unbuttoning it. She is taking her arms out of the sleeves, there, Mandy’s blouse is now completely off and she is folding it up and laying it on the bench.”
“Next, take off your shoes and pantyhose.”
The narrator continued into the speakerphone – “Mandy has slipped off her shoes and is now lifting up her skirt to get at her pantyhose. She has a hold of the waistband and is pulling and tugging to get them down. She is rolling them down, off her legs, off her feet and now they are laying on top of her blouse.”
“Take off everything from your waist up,” the first man directed her.
“Mandy is wearing a cream colored camisole,” the narrator said. She is lifting it up over her head and it’s off. Now she is bending her arms around behind her, reaching for the hooks of her bra. Those are now unfastened. The straps are off her shoulders, the bra is now being placed on top of her other clothes. Mandy is standing before us barelegged and nude from the waist up.”
“Would you like the skit to continue?” the first man said into the phone.
“Certainly,” the phone voice replied.
“Off with the skirt, Mandy.”
She reached around for the zipper in the back, pulled it down and then tugged the tight skirt over her hips. The narrator continued his running commentary.
“Mandy, do you want to take your panties off too?” the first man asked in a gentle voice.
“Oh, no sir,” she answered. “Please, let me keep them on.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll give you another option. If you pee in your panties in the next sixty seconds you can keep them on, otherwise they will have to come off also.” He looked at his watch, “That’s right – wet yourself like a baby and you get to keep them on. I’m starting the sixty seconds right NOW.”
The narrator described Mandy’s facial struggles, her squirming and wiggling. She wanted to comply thinking that it would help her maintain a measure of dignity. With only five seconds left they saw a wet stain spread across her crotch. They also saw streams trickling down her legs and dampening the floor around her bare feet. This was all described in great detail into the phone. Her wet panties turned nearly invisible. She was almost as exposed as if she had taken them off, plus she was humiliated by her childish act of wetting herself. Tears were running down her cheeks.
“Very good, Mandy,” the phone voice said, “you have been quite co-operative. You may sit down for now, but we’re not finished with you.”
“Tess, are you still there?” the phone voice said.
Tess couldn’t answer because the duct tape was still across her mouth. The first man went to her and with no sympathy ripped the sticky tape away from her tender skin. She yelped and then said, “Yes, sir, I’m still here.”
“That’s good, honey,” the phone voice continued. “Did you men know that Tess is Mandy’s sister-in-law?”
“No, we didn’t” they chorused together.
“That’s right, Tess is George’s sister. I think Tess knows where all of our money has gone. Do you know where the money is, Tess?”
“No, sir,” she gasped. “I don’t know anything about it at all.”
“Maybe she will remember better if her clothes come off,” the first man said.
“Perhaps she will,” the phone voice agreed.
The two men lifted Tess up and then stretched her out on the locker room bench. The second man unfastened the belt that went around her tiny waist and pulled it out of the belt loops on her tailored slacks. The first man produced a pair of scissors with long, sharp blades. He started at the hem of her slacks and cut all the way to her waist. He then did the same with the other leg. The shredded pants were pulled out from under her. Her panties were next, sliced off neatly, then the scissors bit into her soft, form-fitting sweater. The blades inched their way up her chest all the way to her neck, then out the sleeves until it too was in ribbons. Her bra was the last thing to be snipped away until she lay stretched out on the bench, totally naked. The second man narrated each step so George could get the full benefit of this part of the skit.
“Tess, do you remember where you and your brother George hid the money?” the awful voice said from the phone.
“No,” she said defiantly. “I don’t know anything about any money.”
“She must have too much on her mind,” the phone voice said. “I think she needs to be cleansed of distracting thoughts.”
The men lifted her up and made her kneel at the end of the bench so her upper body was laying on the bench and her knees on the floor. The first man picked up the little one-inch wide belt they had taken from her and, taking aim, cracked it across her bottom. She shrieked in surprise and pain. Her ankles and wrists were still tied together so she couldn’t protect herself. The belt slapped home again and again. Twenty strokes in all, leaving her bottom bright red and very sore.
Without pausing at all, they filled a large enema bag, lubricated the nozzle and slid it deep inside her opening. “Uhh,” she grunted as it went in. Then when they opened the valve to start the flow of cold water, she screamed again. “Please, no! Stop! I can’t stand this.” She was a tiny, petite woman, with a narrow waist and slender hips. It was going to be hard for her to hold that much water.
“If we stop this enema, we will just do it again and again until you get it all in. It would be easier for you to just do it right the first time.”
She nodded that she understood and calmed down for a while. Then the cramps got to her and she started panting and screaming again. “Oh, that hurts. Please, I can’t take it anymore.”
They shut the valve off for a moment. “Do you want us to stop this one, let you get rid of it and then do it all over again?”
She thought a moment, then in a resigned voice said, “No, keep going.”
They moved her away from the bench some, her swollen belly was pushing into the bench making it harder for her. On her petite frame, the water in her abdomen made her look like she was pregnant. The men massaged her swollen belly, making the water slosh around so that even those listening on the phone could hear it. She managed to finish taking the whole enema but nearly lost it on the way to the toilet. After a few minutes of noisily evacuating her bowels, she was brought back out.
“Do you remember yet, Tess?” the phone voice asked.
“No, I don’t know anything.” she insisted.
The men sat her back down on the locker room bench, then the first one stood behind her and with a comb began to work at her now tangled locks. She had beautiful, thick, strawberry blond hair that fell in lovely waves to her shoulder blades. It was layered so she had nice thick waves all over her head. After it was combed out, even with all she’d been through, her hair was a sight to behold. The locker room lights caught the highlights and made it glow.
“It must take you hours to care for all this hair,” the man commented to her. “We are going to do something very nice for you. We’re going to simplify your morning routine by giving you an easy-to-care-for haircut.”
“What?” she shrieked. “You can’t cut my hair. I don’t want it cut!”
They laughed at her and the first man pushed her head forward so her delicate chin touched her chest. With one hand keeping her head in that position, the other flicked on the electric clippers. She heard the buzz and felt the cold steel on her neck. He had to twist his hand into her hair to hold her head in place. The biting teeth of the clippers ate their way from the nape of her neck all the way to her forehead. When it broke clear of the hair at her forehead, the sheared tresses tumbled down into her lap. She had been holding her breath while the first stripe was made, but when she saw those reddish curls land on her bare legs – she broke down completely.
She sobbed out, “I know where the money is. I’ll tell you where it is, please stop.”
“Don’t say anything,” Mandy shouted at her. The duct tape went on Mandy’s mouth and all she could do was glare at her sister-in-law. They tied her hands and feet also, so she was powerless to do anything except sit and fume.
The clippers were shut off and through her sobs, she blurted out a tale of funds transferred here and there to make a nearly untraceable trail. She said that the records were on a computer disk which she kept in a safe-deposit box, the key to which was in her purse. One of the men got her purse and dumped out the contents until he found the key which she said was the right one.
After she had spilled it all and the phone voice had asked several questions, he said, “Go ahead and finish delivering the message, boys. Good job.” The phone connection was broken – all they heard was a dial tone.
The first man turned the clippers back on and finished buzzing through all the beautiful red hair that was Tess’s shining glory. She was fully broken and sat unresisting while it was shorn off her head. Shaving cream was rubbed on her scalp and a razor scraped off the stubble leaving a shiny bald pate.
The first man then stood behind Mandy and combed out her pretty, blond hair with the curled ends which just touched her shoulders. “What are you going to do?” she asked after the duct tape had been ripped off her mouth.
“We are sending a clear message to you three. You can’t steal from the boss!” That was the last either of the men said even though the women asked them several questions. Mandy’s head was clippered and shaved, just like her sister-in-law’s. They looked enough alike that they could have been twins. While the first man was busy shearing Mandy, the second worked on Tess’s head. “What are you doing?” she kept asking, but he didn’t answer. She heard an electric hum, different than the clippers and felt a pricking sensation on her head, but couldn’t figure out what he was doing.
After he finished Tess’s head, he did the same to Mandy’s. Neither said a word until they had picked up all the tools they’d brought with them, then the first man said, “There, we left a clear message for you.” He turned Tess’s head toward the wall and Mandy looked over at her. Crudely tattooed on the back of her head was the word, “THIEF.” When Mandy turned her head, Tess could see what he had done to her. Sobs filled the air as the men walked out of the travel agency restroom knowing that this clear message would be remembered for a long time.