More from the Owid Files

By Kev Pickering

For ten years now, Kev Pickering has been writing stories, both short and long, but the underlying theme of many of those stories is Ordinary Women in Distress - or as he puts it, the OWiD Files.

This collection reprints some of his favourite stories of the last ten years, including three of the most popular he has ever written. From a love letter to the cartoons of his youth, to stories of women in the wrong place at the wrong time... From voyages of self-discovery to the terror of being kidnapped, there is something here for everyone.

He hopes you enjoy these - and if you want more, you only have to ask...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781326928292

Book preview

More from the Owid Files

More from the Owid Files

By Kev Pickering

Copyright (C) 2017 Kev Pickering

All rights reserved

ISBN: 978-1-326-92829-2

This work is licensed under the Creative Communities Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.  To view a copy of this license, visit

http://creativecommons,org/licenses/by-nc/2,5/

or send a letter to

Creative Commons

171 Second Street, Suite 300

San Francisco, California 94105

USA

http://www.kppresents.com

By Way of Introduction

Hi – my name’s Kev Pickering, and for ten years now I’ve been writing stories of Ordinary Women in Peril – OwiD as I say for short.  I’ve even self-published a few of the stories in collections and books – of which this is just the latest.

So what inspires me?  What first got me into this way of expressing myself?  Some time ago, I published this on my deviantArt page in answer to that question…

A combination of three or four things. Firstly, growing up in the 60's and 70's in the UK meant you could watch adult shows like The Saint, The Protectors, The Baron, and such like, while kid's TV had Freewheelers, Ace of Wands, The Tomorrow People, all of which had the DiD theme. Also, Thriller - the UK version. Later, I saw films like Dirty Mary Crazy Larry and Thunderbolt and Lightfoot for the first time.

Secondly, and related, the comic books of the 70's were a gold mine - with writers like Michael Fleisher, Lois Lane in trouble every month – but in the UK, we had the Fleetway/IPC and DC Thomson comics. I have older sisters, and believe me - the girl's comics were more fruitful than the boys in that field.

As I grew older, I discovered the detective magazines at the newsagents - the pre-Reece ones, with those classic covers. I also discovered the soft porn books with titles like The Baroness...

I also played the occasional game as a kid, but the first three were the major influences on me.

Sad, but true – I really am a child of my times…

Anyway – this collection contains some of my favourite shorter stories, and three of what have proved my most popular tales.  And for all three, I need to say something around copyright.

The Chocolate Cat was the resurrection of the fabulous La Ciocolatta, created by Gillian B, and I thank her family again for allowing me to do that.

The Great Pitstop Pandemonium is my love letter to Hanna Barbera, and all the characters in that are copyright, or loosely based on copyrighted characters, of that firm.

The Three Ages of Gwen was a tribute to the late great Dwayne McDuffie, and all characters in that story are the copyright of Cartoon Network.

Other than that – blame me, and consider this the first step in the tenth anniversary celebrations of my writing…

Kev Pickering

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

For Courtney, it was just another day in another long weekend.  Her boyfriend was away for a month on business, and the last this she really wanted to be doing was spending the afternoon with her mother and grandmother – as interesting as that may have been.  What she really wanted to do was be with him – but that was just not possible.

Instead, she had to as it was so eloquently put rattle round this old house – the old house in question being her grandmother’s, while she and her mother discussed some family business.  As she came out of the toilet, after drying her hands, she walked along the upper corridor to where her room was.  Walking in, she sat on the bed, and then lay back, resting on the orange duvet cover and pillows as the hem of her green t-shirt rose up slightly from the waistline of her blue jeans.

She looked down at her black leather boots, the cuffs turned down like a pirate, and realised she should have taken them off – but she wasn’t bothered.  Closing her eyes, she wondered how long she could stay there for...

Don’t say a fucking word, you little slut!

Courtney opened her eyes wide and tried to call out - but a large hand in a leather glove was clamped over her mouth, and she could see the business end of a sawn off shotgun pointing at her.  Three people were standing in front of her, wearing black boiler suits, and with stockings pulled down over their heads, pressing their hair down.

She tried not to panic as she looked at them – the older man, his hair short and greying as his hand stayed clamped over her mouth.  The younger man, smiling as he pointed the shotgun at her – and the young woman, her blonde hair pulled back, and she looked at her.

Son, Daughter, make sure this young lady is going to stay here, the older man said.  She watched as the woman said of course Father, and then pulled from a pocket on her boiler suit several lengths of cord.  Walking round, she grabbed Courtney’s left wrist and tied one end of a length of cord round it, before she pulled it up and secured it to the top corner of the bed.  Courtney was too terrified to do more than whimper as Daughter walked round and secured her other wrist to the top of the bed as well, before the man she had heard called Father say now, you’re not going to scream out and warn the rest of your family we’re here, are you?  She shook her head frantically from side to side as he said because if you were going to, we’d make sure you never, ever called out for anything again, understood?

She nodded in response as she saw Son pull her legs flat, and then cross her ankles, holding them as Daughter used more cord to secure them tightly together, and the rope going around and between her legs as it squeaked on the leather.  As she tied the ends off, Son looked at her and smiled – an evil smile, as he unfastened and pulled her jeans down, before waving a large knife at her.

Oh my god, she thought to herself as he cut through the sides of her panties, and then pulled them away, sniffing her crotch as he balled them and then looked at Father.

Open wide, the older man said as he took his gloved hand away, but Courtney clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head from side to side.

Why do you all think that will work – Daughter?

Of course Father – it will be my pleasure, the masked woman said – and Courtney suddenly arched her back as she inserted a gloved finger into her sex, moving it around as she wriggled, and then opened her mouth to gasp.  That allowed Son to shove her panties into her mouth, and then pressed a strip of brown sticking plaster firmly down over her mouth.  As she watched, he then started to search the room, throwing things around as Daughter looked at her.

May I stay and play with her Father, she said as she looked at the older man.

Of course you may – keep searching up here when you are ready, the man said, as he and the Son left, Daughter smiling as she continued to use her finger on Courtney, and said I am sure you are going to enjoy this...

Plssdndthss, she mumbled, as Daughter looked at her.  Aw – would you rather I did this?  She picked up a pair of scissors and cut her t-shirt from the hen to the neck, exposing her white bra – and then cut that away, exposing her breasts.  She felt the hands as they pressed firmly down and kneaded her flesh, making her groan as she realised her body was responding.  Involuntarily, she arched her back, pressing her chest into her hands as she squeezed harder. 

See – pleasure, yes?

Courtney opened her eyes and nodded – then screamed into her gag as Daughter fastened the metal clamps over her nipples.  I’m in charge here, Daughter whispered, and don’t you forget it.  She then looked down and started to use her finger to explore Courtney’s sex, the young girl unable to do more than groan...

I’ll be in the front room if you want me, Anne said as she walked into the house, leaving Roberta on the wicker garden unit.  They had agreed on how Courtney’s trust fund, which she was entitled to draw on after her upcoming 21st birthday, would be managed, and now she could relax for a little while.  The fifty year old blonde was wearing a grey cardigan, buttoned up the front, blue jeans and over the knee black suede boots.

It’s a beautiful day, she said to herself as she sat back, her eyes closed, the scent of the summer flowers filling her nostrils as she drifted into her own thoughts.  The birds were singing, the sun was warm, the leather glove over her mouth filling her nose with the scent of the animal skin.

WHThhhlllll...  She looked up to see the two masked men looking down at her, the older two of the holding a sawn-off shotgun in his free hand, the younger tapping a very large baseball bat in his hands.

You’re not going to let anyone know what’s going on, are you, the older man whispered, Roberta shaking her head as the younger man grinned.

Good – get the ropes out Son.

Of course Father, the younger man said as he reached down, and drew from somewhere a length of rope.  You – sit up and turn your back to me.

As Father removed his hand, and Roberta moved, she said Who are you?  The last thing she expected as a response was the back of the leather gloved hand as it slapped her cheek, Father growling We do the talking, we ask the questions.  Son?

Roberta bit her tongue as her arms were yanked behind her back, and she felt Son bind her wrists together, the rope rubbing and digging into the flesh around her wrists as he pulled it tighter and tighter.  Now then – your safe.  The combination.

Go to hell...

Perhaps Father did not make himself clear, Son said as he pulled back on Roberta’s hair, the combination to the safe, or we hurt you.

All right, all right, Roberta whispered quietly, I’ll tell you...  She then groaned as the ropes pulled her arms tight into her sides, the front of her cardigan straining to remain closed as the ropes sat above and below her chest.  They pressed hard, and as the ropes were tightened still further she let out – much to her surprise – a low moan.

Now, the combination, Father growled as the ropes were pulled tighter and tighter...

Anne sat back on the white leather couch, smiling as she flipped through the old magazine.  The black silk jacket covered the black and white striped bustier mini dress, while her legs sat in a pair of black fishnet stockings, most of which were covered by thigh high black leather boots.

She was the wrong side of seventy, but with her short greying blonde hair she looked younger.  And her interests helped her to feel younger as well.

Tip Top – it is a long time since I have seen a copy of that.

Anne looked up to see a woman standing there, wearing a black boiler suit and gloves, and a black stocking pulling down her greying hair as she looked at the couch.  The gun she was holding in her hand made her intent clear to Anne, as she put a large handbag down on the chair.

Well, I do have taste, Anne said quietly, so am I being robbed?

Indeed – the rest of my Family are taking care of your daughter and granddaughter, but I said I would make sure you could not raise the alarm myself.  You may call me Mother.

How appropriate, Anne said quietly, so I presume you are going to tie me up?

You presume correctly, Mother said as she reached into the bag, and drew out a length of rope, so if you would stand up, turn around and put your hands behind your back?

Well, do I have a choice in the matter?

Not really no, she said, the smile evident under her stocking mask as she crossed Anne’s wrists, and began to use the rope to secure them tightly together.   As she passed the rope between the older woman’s wrists, Anne looked up as she heard some strange sounds.

I think Daughter is having some fun with your granddaughter.

I can imagine that she is, Anne said quietly, and what of you?  Will you have fun with me?

In my own way – I prefer to ensure those I meet are left with the ability to distract themselves, Mother said quietly as she passed the rope around Anne’s arms and stomach, and then pulled her arms forced into her sides as the rope was passed around her body above and below her chest.

So you are going to leave me in here?

Indeed – but I am sure your daughter and her daughter will be as unable to raise the alarm as you will be.  Mother continued to pull the rope tighter, the jacket moving to the sides as her chest was forced out.  She then secured the rope behind Anne’s back, before she took the rope over one shoulder, under the lower band between her breasts, and back up again, forcing them even further out.

IS this...  IS this what you have done to the others, she panted as Mother tied the ropes off.

I really do not know, Mother said as she passed a length of rope around Anne’s waist, and secured it behind her, cinching it so her wrists were held firmly to her back, but for now, I need to distract you...

HMMGGGDDDDD!

Roberta stared at Father as Son wrapped the duct tape tightly round her head, sealing her panties into her mouth as he did so.  She had been forced to lie on her back, while her legs were bent and her ankles lashed tightly to her thighs.  They had then pulled her jeans down, and cut her panties away before stuffing them into her mouth.

There, Son said as he tore the tape off and smoothed it down, good thing nobody is next door.

Well, nobody that can help you, Father said as he grabbed Roberta’s chin and looked into her frightened eyes, we visited there before we came here.  Son, go and empty the safe.

OF course Father, Son said as he walked off, Father leering as he sat behind Roberta, and then reached round, pulling her cardigan open as the buttons flew in different directions.  She screamed as she felt his gloved hands massaging her chest, both in pain at the tightness of the grip – and in fear of the fact she was responding to the groping.

You have been a good girl, Father whispered into her ear, and now you will have your reward...

Daughter stepped back as Courtney looked up, her eyes staring straight ahead, and laughed as she looked at the broom handle.

I told you that you would enjoy the afternoon, she said quietly as she checked the bonds, and then slipped out of the room, the bag with her jewellery jangling as she started to search the other rooms.

Well, Anne said as she tried to pull her wrists up, I see what you mean about distracting myself.

Something tells me you will enjoy this, Mother said as she pulled Anne’s ankles back, having crossed and bound them tightly with rope, and then bent her legs so that the heels of her  boots sat on her bottom.  Securing them to the rope that ran up from between her legs, she checked the band below her knees, smiling as she heard Anne’s groans when the rope rubbed her clit.

Time to be quiet, she said as she held up Anne’s knickers, the older woman smiling at the taste of herself as they were pushed into her mouth, and then her lips covered with brown sticking plaster.  Do enjoy the time, Mother said quietly as Daughter appeared.

Time we were leaving Mother – we have everything.

Excellent, she said as she took a small device from the handbag, and slipped it under the rope, Anne bucking as it worked on her, and then walked out with the younger woman.

Safe emptied, Son said as he came out, Father joining them.

Excellent – let’s go.  Two houses in one day – good going...

Changelings

And that is a magnificent triple Salko from this brilliant young skater.  She traverses the ice with ease, with total confidence and grace...

The ruffles on Kathy Johnson’s dress blew in the breeze as she continued her routine on the ice.  The purple garment was designed for maximum movement and flattery, hanging off one shoulder as the skirt rose and fell with each movement.  As the star of the show, she had come on as the climax, and it was an amazing climax she was producing.  Leap after leap, turn after turn, she made the rink her own as the music played, and the crowd gasped in admiration.

She’s building up to the climax now...  She started to build up speed, launching herself into the air as she turned herself once, twice, three, four times, her brown hair immaculately held in place as her skirt rose.  The crowd burst into applause as she came back down, skated a short distance and started to spin again, the movement catching everybody’s eye.

And the crowd go wild in appreciation, the announcer said as the music stopped and Kathy raised her arms in triumph.  She stood for a moment, catching her breath as bunches of flowers started to be thrown onto the ice, before setting off and gathering them up, waving to the crowd as she did so.

Ladies and gentlemen, the reigning UK Ice Champion, Kathy Johnson!!

She smiled at everyone as the spotlight followed her to the gate out of the ice, allowing herself a curtsey and a wave as she stepped through the gate and walked the short distance to the dressing room.  As the spotlight went back onto the ice, she stood against the wall, catching her breath before she sat down and started to unlace her boots.

You were magnificent, she said as she looked over to the space behind the wall.  Sitting there, her eyes closed, was – Kathy Johnson, her wrists held together behind her back with rope, and bands encircling her upper body above and below her breasts, her ankles and legs were also similarly bound, while her mouth was covered with a length of white cloth.  She was quietly breathing, unaware of what had just happened.

As she stood up, Kathy looked at herself with a smile, before walking the short distance to her dressing room.  Stepping inside, she closed and locked the door before leaving her skates by the recliner and walking to the dressing table.  She sat down and looked at herself fin the mirror.  For a moment, all was fine, until her features started to blur in the mirror, and she found herself looking at a woman in her early thirties, with shoulder length brown hair, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans.  She stared at the other woman, her mouth opening in a silent scream as....

Veronica?  Veronica, are you all right?

Veronica opened her eyes and found herself sitting up in bed, panting hard as she turned to look at her husband.  You were having a bad dream, I think, he said as he turned the light on and looked at her, sweat pouring down her face.  You kept mumbling something about a skater, and then you screamed.

I... I’m sorry, darling, she said as she ran her fingers through her light brown hair.  I don’t know what I was dreaming about.  What time is it anyway?

Seven o’clock, he said as he looked at the alarm clock.  I need to get up anyway – I have the diocese retreat to go to today.  Are you sure you’re going to be all right?

I’ll be fine darling, Veronica said with a smile.  I’m visiting Lady Bowness today anyway – she wants to get a group together to work on some new parish project.  Throwing the duvet to one side, she got up and pulled her t-shirt down.  I’ll go and start to make some coffee.

Her husband watched her as she walked out of the bedroom.  He loved Veronica dearly, but each October she felt unwell, and that time was coming closer...

As she stepped out of the taxi, Veronica looked up at the large ornate doors of Millstone Manor.  The manor house had been in the hands of the Bowness family for centuries – indeed, her husband’s living at one time had been in the hands of the Bowness family.

Pulling her shawl around her to keep out the cold October air, Veronica walked quickly up to the door and rang the bell.  It was opened by a young girl, dressed in a black dress and white apron, who asked very quietly Can I help you?

Veronica Bathurst to see Lady Bowness.

Ah yes – you are expected.  Please, come in.

She held the door open and waited as Veronica handed her the shawl, leaving her for a moment in the hallway.  As Lady Bowness was so important, Veronica had taken care to wear a smart two piece black suit with a pale blue camisole top underneath, and there inch heeled shoes.  This way, the maid said as she pointed to a door at the far side of the corridor.  Lady Bowness will join you shortly, she said as Veronica walked in and stopped for a moment.

There were four other women already in the room, none of whom she recognised and yet she felt something familiar about them.  Standing by the fireplace were two women, one about six feet tall with long curly red hair, dressed in a rollneck sweater and jeans, with a grey gillet over her jumper.  The other was smaller, a few years older with hints of grey in her black hair, in a short sleeved brown floral dress and knee length green suede boots.

On the recliner were two more women.  One was the same age as Veronica, with short cropped blonde hair, a black leather dress and boots, while the other was wearing a white peasant blouse and bohemian skirt, with a small blue silk scarf tied over her hair.  Veronica could see a pair of felt ankle boots under the hem of her skirt.

Most surprising of all was the young man, barely over eighteen, who was sat at the table.  He looked incredibly out of place, and yet....

Good morning, Veronica heard a voice say from behind her, and she turned to see a woman in her early fifties walk in.  Her brown hair was tied in a bun on her head, and she was wearing a heavy brown jacket with matching long skirt.  Above the round collar, Veronica could see the top of a brown patterned blouse, while from the hens of her skirt brown leather boots covered her legs.

Lady Bowness, she said as she accepted the outstretched hand, It was good of you to invite me today.  I knew there would be others, but I do not think I have ever...

Time for introductions later, ladies, and Mark, she said as she nodded to the young man sitting in the corner.  Please, come and sit down – I want to explain why I have invited each of you here today.

As the group stood up and moved towards the round table, the young man said quietly Why did you invite me?  This is obviously a woman’s group, so why...

All in good time, Mark, Lady Bowness said as she took a seat, her skirt creaking slightly as she did so.  Veronica, I believe you know a woman called Katie Colhurn?

Yes I do, Veronica said with a smile, She is quite the celebrity after her book was published.  After all, there was a lot of debate about whether or not what she wrote was true.

Lady Bowness walked to a bookcase and drew out a slim volume which she placed on the table.  It showed a picture of a woman, superimposed on herself, and the title of CHANGELING: The story of a ghost thief.

Very entertaining, the young woman in the leather dress said.  But why have you asked us here?

Veronica looked at her.  Have we met before? she said quietly.  The blonde haired woman looked at her, before saying I don’t know – do you shop at my boutique?  I own Sharp Dressing on the high street.

Sharp Dressing? the red haired woman said as she looked up.  I shop there – weren’t you robbed last year?

Apparently, although it happened after I left...

Are you sure you’re happy closing up for me, Polly?

I’m sure, Harriet – you go and enjoy the reunion concert.

Polly watched as Harriet, the owner and her boss, walked out of the front door, her leather dress blowing in the slight breeze.  She had worked here for six months now, and was enjoying serving customers and look after the stock.  Harriet’s only rule was that the women who worked for her had to be fashionable herself, and on this particular day Polly was wearing a blue denim sleeveless dress, with a wide white collar, that zipped up the front, black fishnet stockings and knee length black leather boots with three inch stiletto heels.

It was a Friday, and the time for closing was getting nearer anyway, but as she turned to walk into the stockroom she thought she heard a noise from the rear of the store.  Who’s there, she said as she went to investigate, but all she saw was the stock moving in the breeze from the fan.  Just my imagination, she said to herself as she turned, only to run into someone.  Who that someone was she could not be sure – all she could see clearly were a pair of orange eyes that glowed, and then nothing as she fell into silence.

Polly slowly opened her eyes, wondering what had happened, and why she couldn’t move very easily.  The answer to the second question came to her quickly as she realised she was lying on her side on the floor of the stockroom, and glancing down she saw the black tape that had been wrapped around her legs and ankles.  Shit, she thought to herself as she tried to move her arms, only to realise with a sickening in her stomach that her wrists and arms were also securely taped.  The tugging she could now feel on her mouth and jaw suggested she had also been gagged with the same stuff.

She could hear voices outside, so she started to call out plsnlpm as loudly as she could.  As she wriggled round, she could feel her hair coming undone, strands falling down her cheeks as she moved on the cold floor.  To her surprise, however, she heard music starting to play in the shop outside as the door bell rang several times.

Eventually, the curtain that divided the storeroom from the shop was pulled back, and as Polly looked up her eyes widened in shock.  Her captor was her height, her build, her hair colour – her, in fact, right down to the clothing.

Just stay quiet now, she heard the doppelganger say in her soft London accent, I’m going to have some fun.  Think of it as part of your education.

She turned the light off and closed the curtain, leaving Polly screaming as she turned the shop lights off and left the bound and gagged girl all alone....

Polly still works for me, Harriet said as she accepted a cup of coffee from the maid, In a way the experience liberated her.  I don’t see what it has to do with the rest of you however.

I do, Veronica said quietly.  In her book, Katie tells how she was visited by the one she thought was attacking the women and robbing them after I had left.  Maybe this same woman visited your store after you had left?

That is always a possibility, Lady Bowness said with a smile before taking a sip from her cup.  This person, whoever he or she is, seems to be a master of disguise.   Tell me, Harriet, what you did that day after you left the store.

Well, I went home, and...  The woman stopped for a moment.  Do you know, I can’t quite remember.  I know I went home, I must have done something, and then I woke up in bed.  Veronica shot a glance over at the blonde, her dress rustling as she moved uneasily.

The red haired woman was also looking uneasy.  Erika, are you all right, Lady Bowness said with a genuine note of concern.

I think so, she said quietly, It’s just it reminds me of the time my neighbour was attacked in her home.  Not that she was a friend – or even is now – in fact, she can be a bit of an interfering busybody.  It’s just....

Why don’t you tell us what happened, Veronica said with a smile.  Erika nodded, swallowed and began her tale.

Erika Holding, if I hear that dog of yours barking one more time, I swear to god I will have the building superintendant on you like a dose of eczema!

Erika sighed as she stood there, listening to her neighbour Mrs Burton complaining yet again about the noise Rover made.  She did this every night, and every night Erika made some slight platitude, some attempt at apology.

Tonight, however, was different – she had a pounding headache, and just wanted to get back into her flat.  She looked at the older woman, standing there in her stocking soles with a white cardigan over her long grey dress, and just shook her head.

Mrs Burton, she said eventually, any other night I would stop and discuss this with you, but I need to go and take some aspirin.  So, forgive me rudeness, but I have to go now.  With that, she turned and walked off, leaving the older woman speechless.

Well, the manners of some people, she said as she went back into her own flat and closed the door.  Looking in the mirror, she picked up a brush and ran it through her greying hair, noting that she really needed a haircut.

The doorbell rang, and she turned towards it to answer.  That’ll be her coming back to apologise, she said to herself as she opened the door, only to stand there for a few moments, staring ahead before she slowly crumpled to the floor, out for the count.

The person stared at her for a moment, before stepping over the threshold and closing the door.  Picking up the heavy woman as if she was a pillow, they carried her into the front room, laying her on the floor and watching her for a few moments.  Her red eyes stopped glowing as her figure filled out, and her hair shrank back and turned grey.  A gesture of the hands made ropes appear and snake round the woman lying on the floor, her hands moving of their own accord behind her back as her wrists were lashed together, while her ankles and legs received the same treatment.

As the rope snaked itself around her legs, pulling the material of her skirt tightly around them as her arms were also constricted by bands, the intruder took a length of white cloth and tied a knot in the middle of it.  Kneeling by the older woman, she took a wad of cloth and pushed it into her mouth, using the knotted strip to keep it in place as it was secured around her mouth.

The older woman lay there, unconscious as her double picked up her purse and walked out of the room, not looking back.

We found her the next morning, when I went round to apologise for been so rude the night before.  She said she had no memory of who was at the door – one moment she was standing there, the next she was bound and gagged on her own floor.

Erika looked round the table.  As for me, I went straight to bed after I took the tablets.  I didn’t hear a thing.

The women looked at each other, while Mark nervously fidgeted in his seat.  These all must have been the same person, surely? the person sitting with Harriet said quietly.  "The thought that somebody could overpower women