How I Bagged A Cougar

 

 

 

As I close the door behind me, she raises her head in response to the soft click of the lock.  The sleep mask that was taped over her eyes is still in place, and the waffle ball that is strapped into her mouth has a glistening cover of droll that drips slowly onto the white silk sheets from her alabaster cheek.  She moans softly as I approach the bed, pulling on the ropes that hold her arms spread-eagled above her head to the iron bedstead.

 

Her grey hair lies across the pillowcase, as she tries to raise her bound legs.  She still wears the cream silk pyjamas that she was brought here in, although the ropes have caused some marks to appear on the material.  A small price to pay, I’m sure.  Standing by the bed, I reach over and stroke her cheek with the velvet glove that covers my own hand.

 

“I’m going to remove the gag – remember not to say anything,” I say softly, quietly, and she nods to show she understands.  Reaching down, I undo the buckle that rests against her cheek and remove the plastic ball, wiping her mouth with a paper tissue as I do so.  “Here – have a drink,” is the only other things I say as I offer a straw to her mouth, and she takes a long sip of the iced water.  “Don’t gulp” I say quietly as she lets go and says “Thank you.”

 

“Now, I bring good news – the payment has been received, and you will soon be released.  It will take a little while to make the arrangements, but your time here will soon be over.  In the meantime, try to relax.”

 

“Will you remove this blindfold?” she asks as she turns her head towards me, but I shake my head and whisper “No – I cannot allow you to see me or my colleagues.  For now, just relax and enjoy the moment.  In fact, I hope I can help you to relax further.”

 

“Oh god,” she whispers as the meaning of what I say comes over her.  “It’s wrong, and yet...”

 

“And yet it feels so right – so, dear lady, open wide and we will have one last moment together.”  She opens her mouth; I think to protest, so I gently push the soft cloth into her mouth to stifle her words and complaints.  My hands travel slowly, delicately, over her body as she starts to moan softly, caressing her firm muscled body and stroking her on her sides, her legs, her arms.

 

I move gently, delicately, and pass my hands over her chest as she starts to move in response.  As I circle her nipples with my hands, I can feel them hardening in response, the nipple becoming more erect as I continue.  Her moans increase in intensity as my hands knead and massage, bringing her to a state of arousal as one hand moves towards the warmth between her legs...

 

 

 

 

“Hush now, dear lady,” I say as I untie her hands and remove the ropes.  “I need to make sure you sleep for a while, but when you awaken again you will be returned to the bosom of your family and friends.  I have enjoyed your time with us – maybe one day we will meet again.

 

“Will you remove my blindfold,” she asks quietly, and I say “Yes.”  Peeling away the medical tape, she removes her eye mask to see me standing there, all five foot six of me in my black bodysuit with a clear plastic mask over my face.  My hair is hidden under my hood, so that there is no real way to distinguish me.

 

“You are beautiful,” is her response to seeing me, and I smile as I hold the sweet scented pad in my hand.  “Breath deep, and goodbye,” I say as I hold the pad over her nose and mouth, and her eyes flicker quickly in response to the narcotic soaked into the cotton.  As she falls backward, in a deep slumber, the door opens and John comes in.  Removing my mask, I embrace him and kiss him passionately.

 

“So, has she enjoyed her stay with us,” he asks as he begins to unbutton and remove her soiled clothing.  “I’m sure she has, even if she will never admit it in public,” I say as I go to a cupboard and take out a freshly laundered grey track suit.  Pulling off her pyjama bottoms, I gently pull the sweat pants over her legs as John sits her up and puts the jacket over her upper body.  Laying her back down, he takes me in his arms and kisses me again.

 

“Five million dollars, Rosie – how do you manage it?”

 

“That’s my secret, lover boy – now, help me to take her to the car.  We only have a short while to take her back.

 

As he picks her sleeping body up in his arms and walks to the door, I thank whoever’s in charge again that I met John that day ten years ago.  We had been intending to rob the same target at the same time, and in the resulting confusion we had been the only two to get away without capture.  Now we work as a team, enjoying each other’s company and indulging in our own wishes as well.

 

Yes, he knows I swing both ways, and he’s comfortable with that.  In fact, I know for a fact he likes to watch the tapes I make of the session with our guests – purely for our own purposes.  I’m not a blackmailer, and in a way I see it as helping these women to see the benefits of letting go.

 

Ah yes – our guests.  As far as most people are concerned, I make my living as a fashion consultant – one of the best in the business.  Being small in stature, with short cropped blonde hair and a slim build, I’m not seen as threatening, and as such I get closer to the most powerful women than many do.  What John, and no-one else know, is that I use those contacts to help identify, once or twice a year, women of wealth and power who need to be taken down a peg or two, or who have more money than sense, and I arrange to relieve them of that fortune by a small amount.

 

I arrange for them to be visited, robbed and then kidnapped, always making sure a clear and sensible ransom demand is left, and then entertain them in my cellar for a few days while the ransom is negotiated.  At the same time, I make them welcome and show them new ways of enjoying life, and nine times out of ten we have a smooth business deal.  Occasionally I need to get tough, which is when John reluctantly steps in, but normally that is not needed.  Usually, we take them from their house, and return them to a public park once payment is received.

 

Driving through the early morning dimness, we stop near to a picnic area and lift our current guest out of the back of our jeep, sitting her at the table and resting her head on her arms so that she is sleeping peacefully.  John and I go back to the jeep, driving away as we seek to return quickly to our home.

 

“Do you have some energy left,” he asks with a smile on his face, and I nod in reply.  We have some time left before I need to start the preparations for our next guest.  A little sooner than expected, but this has come as a special request, and I deserve a little more fun.

 

 

 

 

 

Two days have passed, and there was no mention in the papers of our recent visitor.  This is how we prefer to work – no police, and no reporting.  Those tapes can occasionally be used for another purpose.  John and I are sitting at a roadside cafe, to the entire world a boy and his girl laughing and drinking, but our real attention is focused on a woman sitting at the next table.

 

To the entire world, she looks as if she is in her early forties, but I know Beatrice Hawkins is actually fifty five years old.  She runs a very successful dating agency in the local area, and our research at Company House had confirmed that she was a very wealthy woman indeed.  She sipped from a china cup, the Ralph Lauren cream jacket and skirt perfectly complemented by her shoes and pearls as she sat there.  Obviously a woman of some taste and discernment.

 

“So,” John says as he leans over, “Do you think she will do?”

 

“Oh yes – I’m sure she will appreciate a visit from us,” I say as Beatrice stands up and waves towards a young woman that was approaching.  “What exactly was the request we received?”

 

“’Invite’ her to stay with us for a while and issue a ransom, so long as she is unable to be at her office for a certain period of time.  We gain and others gain as well – win-win by my standards.”

 

“I hope so John – I don’t like not knowing all the details.  Are you sure she lives alone?”

 

“The only person she’s seen with outside the office is the one joining her now – her daughter, my sources tell me, and they are usually impeccable.”

 

I look at the dark haired woman who sits with Beatrice, crossing her legs to show a flash of silk panties.  “Well, if she is home when we call, so much the better,” I say with a smile.  “Pay up – we have some plans to study.”

 

 

As you would expect from a woman of her wealth, Beatrice Hawkins lived in a detached house that sat in a private little garden, surrounded on all sides by a high wall.  We watched the house for some time, noting that there appeared to be no sign of a domestic worker or staff, and decided to make our move on the Saturday before it was required for her to be missing.  For my own thoughts, I did wonder if she was arranging this herself – some people do run a business that kidnaps people to order, and she may have done this for her own purposes.  Without anything to back it up, however, we had to proceed with the plan.

 

The sun is setting as we drive up to the wall, stopping near to the gate and waiting for the light to dim still further.  We had seen a blind spot that would allow John to get us into the house, and as the sun dipped over the horizon he climbs out and quickly scaled the wall, using some small metal spikes we had slowly placed over the previous week.  I watch his lithe body climb over the wall, steeling myself not to be aroused too much.  Plenty of time for that when we return with Beatrice to the cellar.

 

As the gates swing open, I slip the car into gear and drive through, stopping as john closes the gates and climbs back in.  Thanking the gods above that she has a tarmac drive, we made our way towards the rear of the house, our headlights off to conceal our presence.  There are lights on in the upstairs window, but fortunately none downstairs.

 

Parking, we climb out and place the clear facemasks over our faces, pulling the hoods over our heads so that our hair is covered.  John leads the way, checking the handle on the rear door and noting with great satisfaction that it swung open without noise.  Obviously, they were not expecting company – which is good news for us.

 

The kitchen is in darkness, but the soft soles of our shoes mean we make little or no noise as we make our way through the kitchen.  Opening the door a crack, I listen to see if anyone is downstairs, but the only sound seems to be laughter from the upper floors.  Turning and nodding to John, we make our way along the corridor and start to climb the stairs, listening all the while as we go higher, higher...

 

A door opens in an upstairs room, and John and I duck as we see a pair of slipper clad feet make their way along the corridor and into another room.  We make our way quickly to the top, listening to the sounds of running water in the closed room, and swiftly move to where the light is shining from the doorway.  I quickly pass the gap, and we both look in to see the young woman from the cafe, sitting on the bed in a pair of blue shorts and a white t-shirt while she was flipping through a magazine.  I look at John, he looks at me, and we move in.

 

The girl barely has time to register what is happening before John is on top of her, his gloved hand over her mouth and his strong arm around her chest as she sat there.  I try to ignore the fact his arm is around her instead of me, for we have a job of work to do.  The sound of a flushing toilet comes into the room, so I quickly went and stood by the door as Beatrice came back in.

 

She stops short at the sight of the other woman in John’s arms, which gives me the opportunity to grab hold of her.  She’s at least six inches taller than me, but as I hit her in the side she falls onto her knees, which allows me to place my own gloved hand over her mouth and flash a very nice knife I have before her eyes.

 

“Just keep quiet and everything will be fine,” I whisper softly into her ear, and she nods as she looks at the others on the bed.  “I’m going to take my hand away, and I want you to stay quite still.  All right?”

 

She mumbles something under the velvet, and as I take my hand away and help her to her feet she looks at John forcing the young woman to stand.  Beatrice herself is a revelation – the tight leopard print top that is one her upper body looks as if it has been painted on, with the round collar showing her upper chest, and the tight stain trousers look like she was rolled in the material before it was cut.  She looked over at the dark haired beauty before asking the obvious question.

 

“Who are you, and how dare you come into my house!”

 

“Hush, Beatrice,” I say softly as John forces the young woman to sit down.  “We’ve come to invite you to spend some quality time for us, and we’ll leave a message for your friends to explain what’s happening.  In fact, your daughter can deliver the message for us.”

 

“My daughter?”  Beatrice looks over at the young woman.  “What are you intending to do?”

 

“Have a seat while we decide how best to do this,” I say as I push her towards the bed.  “Hands on your heads, and don’t move.  Have a look round and see what you can find.”

 

I address the last comment to John, who nods and starts to search through the cupboards and drawers.  As he pulls out various items, I pick up a couple of small brightly coloured scarves that he has thrown to the floor.

 

“We might as well get started,” I said as I pass one of the scarves to the young girl, “Stuff that into your mouth – you’ve been silent so far, and I want it to stay that way.”

 

She looks at Beatrice, who nods and hugs her as she rolls up the silk square and pushes it into her mouth.  The edges peep out from between her rouged lips as John passes me a long thin red silk scarf.

 

“I think you need something to occupy your mind, Beatrice, before we take a trip.  Were you ever a girl guide?”

 

Beatrice looks up at me, a flash of defiance in her eyes.  “And if I was?”

 

“Then you know how to tie a knot – so tie her wrists together behind her back.  She won’t struggle as much for you, and it may be more comfortable for her.”

 

Beatrice looks at me, then the scarf, then to the young girl as she leans over and whispers something in her ear.  The girl nods, and meekly turns her back to Beatrice, placing her wrists behind her back and crossing them.  I watch as Beatrice passes the scarf around and between them – it’s obvious she had done some rope tying before, and yet she does not seem to be hurting her daughter.  It is obvious she loves her, and yet...

 

“Well?” she says as she looks at me, and I have to admit she had done a good job of securing her wrists together.  By this time John has left the room, but not before leaving a selection of rich silk and satin scarves by the bed.  “You may as well continue,” I say, “Pick a scarf and tie her ankles together.”

 

Beatrice selects a long green scarf and kneels on the floor, her trousers almost creaking as she crosses the other woman’s ankles and secures them together with the material.  My eyes wonder to the young woman’s chest as she breathes, her breasts slowly rising and falling as she takes deep breaths to try and calm herself, and could not deny the beauty of the movement.  As I watch, without asking Beatrice picks up a third long scarf and starts to tie her legs together.

 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I say, but she just looks at me and said “You were going to, though – I saved you the bother.”  As she passes a bandana between the other woman’s legs to tighten the scarf, I cannot shake the feeling that Beatrice had just wrested some control from me – I have to rectify that.  “Stop a moment,” I say as Beatrice stood up.  “I am in charge here, not you.”

 

“As you wish,” she says as she looks at me and bows her head.  “Good – pick a scarf and push it into your own mouth now, I don’t want you to say another word while we are here.”

 

Beatrice looks at the pile, and picks up a small pale blue silk square.  As she rolls it into a ball and pushes it into her mouth, I take a brown bandana, roll it into a band and tie a knot in the middle.

 

“Use that to keep your daughter’s gag in – I trust you not to push yours out,” I say as I handed the band to her.  To my surprise, as she pulls the knot into the young woman’s mouth, I see both of them seemingly getting more and more excited about what was happening.  I‘m used to seeing fear, but not – well, not enjoyment.  Shaking my head, I say “Enough – help her to roll onto her stomach and tie her ankles to her wrists.”

 

As Beatrice places her younger companion in a hogtie, my suspicions keep growing – the young whelp is actually enjoying this.  From the way she’s moving her hips on the duvet, it appears she is...  Well, I have other things to worry about, as John has come back in and started to bind the wrists of our guest to be behind her back with a Hermes scarf.  As the large silk square envelopes her slim wrists, I walk over to the bed to check how the young girl was.  Well secured, certainly, but not uncomfortably.  Indeed, although she keeps her face buried I can hear her breathing growing more and more heavy as she moves up and down, almost groaning...

 

Actually, that groan is too loud and deep to be her.  I swiftly get off the bed and turn round to see Beatrice staring defiantly at me, and John slowly sinking to the ground as he holds his crotch in his hands.  Well, only I get to do that to him, so I pick up the knife I had left on the bedside table and walk over to Beatrice, taking her chin in my gloved hand and placing the point of the blade underneath.

 

“Try that again,” I say, “and you will not live to regret it, I promise you.  Are you all right?”  John nods as he slowly gets back to his feet, and glares at our friend.  “Relax, relax, she was only doing what any strong spirited person would do in her situation – now, hobble her.”

 

Beatrice keeps looking at me as John picks up a wide silk belt and uses it to pull her legs together, just above her knees, so that she can only walk by taking small steps.  Leaving John to tie a large headscarf over her eyes, I go back over to the rather attractive girl on the bed.

 

“I’ll leave this for you to pass on to your mother’s business partners,” I say as I leave a little stick by the bed.  Leaning over, I whisper “Try not to have too much fun,” as I feel between her legs and find a moist, warm patch on her cotton shorts.  She squeals through the gag as I stroke her there, before standing up and joining John by the other woman.

 

“Let’s go,” I say as we each took an arm and frog march Beatrice to the front of the house, and our waiting car.  As John opens the door, I pull the gag from her mouth and say “Breath deeply” as I press a chloroform soaked cloth to her mouth.  She soon falls back into the rear of the vehicle, and within five minutes John and I are heading for our little hideaway.

 

 

 

 

 

Beatrice is still out as John lays her out on the bed in our cellar.  The memory stick I had left had instructions on the amount we wanted for her safe return, as well as how to deliver the ransom and how we would contact them.  Untraceable, of course, and a warning attached as to what would happen if the usual authorities were contacted.

 

As she sleeps, her breathing regular and her chest rising and falling, I take some time to admire her close up.  She really is a most beautiful woman, with her breasts almost clinging to the material of her top.  I watch, transfixed, as she slowly comes to and groans.  Ensuring I have everything I need with me, I watch as she says “Where am I?”

 

“You are our guest, Beatrice, and I must ask you to do exactly what I tell you,” I say quietly.  “I’m going to untie you and remove your blindfold, but I must insist you do not do to me what you did to my colleague.  Trust me, you would not enjoy the consequences.”

 

“So, is this a kidnapping,” she asks.  I had expected the question earlier, which makes me think even more she has arranged this herself, but I keep those thoughts quiet as I remove the scarves and allow her to look around the room.  “Cosy,” she says with just a hint of sarcasm as she looks round the whitewashed walls and the metal bedstead that her mattress sits on.

 

“We like to make our guests comfortable,” I say as I pass a plastic bag over to her.  “Now, with that in mind, I want you to strip off and put on what is in that bag.  I think you will find they fit.”

 

Opening the bag, Beatrice smiles as she produces a cream silk pyjama set, with a sleeveless top and shorts.  “You expect me to wear this,” she says, and looks at me with a strange glint in her eye.  “For now – you may change later, depending on how long you stay with us, amongst other things.”

 

“How thoughtful of you – I suppose a little privacy is out of the question?”

 

I shake my head, although the request was not unexpected.  It takes time for my guests to realise that I am in charge here, so I just stand and watch as she lowers a zip and peels off her trousers, allowing them to drop to the floor as she pulls her top over her head.  As she does this, I cannot help but admire her body, its perfect form and shape, even though a very fetching black lace bra and panties cover her most interesting areas.  I need to do something about that.

 

“Those need to come off as well,” I say as I look on, and reluctantly Beatrice does as I ask.   She stands there, naked, as I take in her total beauty.

 

“All right, get dressed so that I can make you comfortable,” I say as I stop myself.  Watching as she puts on the pyjamas, I wonder what I am going to secure her with, and decide to be gentle for the first few hours.  Picking up a roll of wide medical tape, I walk slowly over, my flushed face hidden by the clear plastic.  “Turn round and put your hands behind your back,” I whisper, and as my gloved hand touches her arms I swear she shuddered slightly.  “Is it too cold for you?” I ask as I wrap the tape around and between her wrists, but to my surprise she says “No – I just find this rather – exciting.”

 

“Sit down,” I say next, and as I kneel down to tape her ankles together I say “I think your daughter may not find that so invigorating.”

 

“My daughter?” Beatrice says with a laugh, and as I look up I can see that I may have slightly misunderstood her domestic situation.  “She may be the right age, but be assured she is not my daughter.”

 

“How interesting – and obviously I made a small if understandable mistake,” I reply as I help her to lie down on the bed.  “So how long?”

 

“How long have I been a lesbian or how long have I been interested in younger women?” she said as she looked up at me.  “None of your business.”

 

“Maybe, maybe not, but we can explore that later,” I say as I tear a strip off.  “For now, stay here, and we will be watching you.”  I smooth the tape over her lips, before pointing out the camera pointing directly at the bed.  “We can talk later.”

 

I want to stay and continue our chat, but time is money, so I leave her in the cellar, bolting the door behind me, and go up to our living area.  John is watching the feed from the cellar as I remove the mask and pull the hood off my head.

 

“So our guest likes to chase young cubs,” he says as I lean over and kiss him.  “It would appear so,” I say as I run my fingers through my hair.  “We’ll worry about that later – I need a bath and a few hours sleep.  Will you be all right?”

 

“No problem,” John says as I leave him alone and head for the bedroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As John unlocks the door, Beatrice looks up to see me bringing in a tray of food and a glass of water, while John sets up the table and chair he has been carrying.  “Good evening, Beatrice,” I say as I set the tray down, “I hope you are hungry.  Please, make no moves or sound as we release you and bring you over here.”

 

She lies still as John cuts the tape around her wrist and ankles, placing the used pieces in a clear plastic bag, and then offers no resistance as she is brought over and sat down on the chair.  “I’m afraid we need to make sure you cannot get up before we begin,” I calmly say as John pulls her back against the chair with a length of rope around her waist, and then secures her ankles to the leg of the chair with smaller lengths.

 

“Hw cn i t” Beatrice mumbles.  “Oh, I am sorry,” I say as I peel the tape away from her lips.  She looks at the collection of dim sum that sits on the plate, and picks up a wonton to place in her mouth.

 

“My compliments to the chef,” she says sarcastically as she takes a sip of water.  I walk to her other side, and stroke her cheek with my gloved hand as she continues eating.  “We are not uncivilised, Beatrice – you will be fed and well treated until the ransom is paid.  In fact, I think you may find the experience most pleasurable if you behave yourself.”

 

As I stroke her cheek, I notice she does not recoil in total horror.  “I trust you will cooperate?” I say, and she simply nods as she continues eating.  “What good would it do me?” she says between bites.  “After all, I don’t want Jenny to be in any more trouble.”

 

“Oh, it was Jenny, was it?” I say with a smile, and Beatrice has the good grace to blush.  “If she ‘s not your daughter, then who is she?”

 

“One of my assistants – a very pleasant young woman in many ways.”

 

“Beatrice, I think you are going to have a very interesting experience,” I say as she drains her glass.   “Now, do you need anything or to go anywhere?”

 

As she shakes her head, John takes the tray and leaves the two of us alone.  I pull the table back and look at our guest.

 

“You know,” I say as I continue to stroke her cheek, “I have to restrain you for the night now.  Normally, I offer no choice, but with you I think I can make an exception.”

 

“No – you must do as you see fit,” Beatrice says, and to my great surprise she moves her head in response to my touch.  “I only wish we could have met in a different way – I think you must be a very attractive woman under that mask.”

 

The time had come to make a decision, so I release her ankles and waist and take her by the hand.  “I think you need to know what exactly may happen if you misbehave, so forgive me if it is a little uncomfortable,” I whisper as I help her to stand up and lead her over to the bed.  “Please, lie down and put your hands together on your lap.”

 

Beatrice lies down, laying her head on the pillow as she looks up at me.  "Please,” she asks as I pick up a coil of white rope and start to straighten it out, “May I see your face?  I know it is asking a lot, but I do like to know who is being so kind under the circumstances.”

 

I shake my head and smile under the plastic before saying “I’m sorry, Beatrice, but I cannot allow that.  Now, lie still.”  As I finish, I cross her wrists and start to wrap the soft rope around them, pulling them gently and firmly together, before passing the rope between them and tightening the coils like a pair of gentle handcuffs.  I then raise her hands, pulling them above her head and securing the loose ends to the metal headstand.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, am I?” she says as I repeat the process around her ankles, the touch of her skin beneath my glove a pleasure as I secure them together with another coil of rope, tying the ends to the foot of the bed.  “Not for some time, now open wide.”

 

Beatrice looks at the device I hold in my hand, the leather strap passing through the waffle ball.  “Very well,” she sighs before opening her mouth wide and allowing me to slip the ball between her pearly white teeth, closing them on it as I secure the straps around her cheek.  Finally, I take a thick black cloth and fold it into a band, tying it over her eyes as she raises her head and let it fall back onto the pillow.  “Good night,” I whisper as I remove my mask and gently kiss her in the cheek.  Stepping back, I sit down and watch for a while as she moves around, testing her bonds and moaning softly as she does so.  Her movement is sensual, arousing, and I find myself resisting the very real temptation to go over and help her arousal.  It is not time for that, not yet.  Instead, I leave the room, closing and locking the door quietly behind me and going to join John, in the hope that he can help me to find relief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Good morning, Beatrice.”

 

She turns at the sound of my voice and moans through her gag.  There is a stream of saliva running from the corner of her mouth where her head has lain as she slept, and there is sweat on her forehead and under her arms, but otherwise she appears to have rested for the night.

 

“wh tm s t,” she mumbles, and as I remove the ball from her mouth she croaks “What time is it?”

 

“You have slept, and that should be enough for now.  If you promise to behave, I will untie you and allow you to have some breakfast.”

 

“Do I need to be secured again,” she asks as she turns her head in my direction, and again I am faced with a decision.  “So long as you promise not to try to escape, then I will not secure you until I have to,” I whisper as I release her hands and ankles.  She sits herself up, rubbing her wrists as I remove the blindfold, and she can see both John and I standing there, food and water on the table.

 

“Where would there be for me to escape to anyway?” is her response as I take her arm and lead her to the table, where there is a glass of water and slices of fruit waiting.  She sits, looking at our plastic covered faces while she sips the water and eats.

 

“So, how long am I likely to be here,” she asks as a slice of melon passes her lips, the way she sucks on it making me think of something other than her question for a few minutes.

 

“We allowed for 48 hours,” John says, “So we have a while yet.  After that it is up to your company.”

 

Beatrice nods as she continues to eat.  When the plate is cleared, I leave her with John for a moment, making it very clear to him what he is not to do, while I fetch some soap and water and a change of clothing.  “Here,” I say as I lay them on the table, “We will leave you to change and clean yourself up.  You will not be restrained, but nobody can hear you or see you, so enjoy the time for contemplation.”

 

WE leave her in the room, returning to watch on the monitor as she strips off her sweat soaked clothes and proceeds to wash herself down.  John looks over to me and says “You really want to get to know her better,” as I watch the water wash the stains off her smooth skin.”

 

“Later, maybe – you need to go and see if any messages have been left at the drop.  I’ll watch our guest here in the meantime, and maybe later...”  John smiles as he leaves me alone to my silent contemplation.

 

 

 

 

 

Beatrice looks up from her bed as I open and close the door behind me.  In my arms I have a white satin nightdress, and a bag hangs from my hand containing a number of items that I may need.

 

“Enjoying yourself?” I ask as I place the bag and nightdress over the chair and look at her sitting up.  “Not really, no,” she says as she looks up at me, “I find it incredibly boring here, if truth be told.  Why?”

 

“Well, I have something that I need to confess,” I say as I walk over and sit next to her.  “I find you an incredibly attractive woman, Beatrice, and it saddens me that you have to be treated in this way.  I wanted to apologise, and I hope that should we meet again there would be no hard feelings.”

 

“Are we ever likely to meet again?” she says as she looks at me.  “After all, all I ever see of you is that plastic mask over your face.  I have no idea what you look like.”

 

“Very true,” I say as I stroke her cheek with my gloved hand, “But nevertheless I am sorry.”  TO my delight, I feel her press against my cheek as I stroke it.  “You are a fine lioness amongst the pride, the chief of them all, and you deserve to be treated with respect.”

 

“I should thank you for that,” Beatrice breaths as I continue to stroke her cheek, her head moving in unison now.  “Tell me, my captor, what would you do with a lioness like me if you were to catch me?”

 

“I would have to make sure you were unable to get away while I examined you,” I whispered in her ear, “and that would mean securing you if not caging you.”

 

“And how would you do that,” she breaths as I stroke her.  “Let me show you,” I say as I go to the bag and remove several lengths of cotton cord.  I can see her eyes starting to shine as I bring them over and lay them on the bed next to me.  I stroke her arms, the bare skin gentle and soft as I brush them up and down.

 

“It would seem I have fallen into a trap,” Beatrice whispers as I massage and gently bend her arms behind her back, holding her wrist together with one hand as I wrap a length if cord around them, pulling them and securing them together.  She pants slightly as I repeat the process around her elbows, not making them touch but forcing her chest out under the white t-shirt that she was given to wear.  “This would stop you from scratching my eyes out,” I whisper as I place my arms around my captive and stroke her stomach, feeling her chest rising and falling as she breaths.

 

“So, my lioness, what do you think I should do now,” I whisper again as I allow my hands to rise up and start to massage her breasts, which feel firm underneath the material.  As my fingers gently draw rings around her nipples, I can hear the sound of moans coming softly from her mouth.

 

“Oh God,” she breaths, “I don’t know what I would do.  Tell me, my captor.”

 

“Let me take care of you,” I say as I knead gently, feeling her nipples harden at the touch of my fingers.  As I continue, I take one hand away and lift her top up, exposing bare breasts to the air.  As my gloved hands return to them, she shudders at my caress and starts to moan more loudly to my touch.

 

“I need to make sure you cannot get away now,” I whisper as I slowly allow her to lie on the bed, turning her over as I pass my hands down her legs, over the shorts and down the backs of her legs until I reach her ankles.  My fingers stroke the soles of her feet as I bind her ankles together, crossing them so that I have more freedom to carry out my plans.  My next move is to stroke the inside of her legs, noting with satisfaction the way she bucks slightly at my touch.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Beatrice softly moans, “I am completely at your mercy.  Do what you will with me.”  “I intend to,” I whisper as I reach down to the floor, “But first, I need to stop you from seeing me.”

 

“Why?” she asks as she looks up, but my response is simply to put my finger to her lips, which she opens and gently places around the velvet, sucking as she does so.  This is pleasant, unexpected, but I remove my hand and tie the black scarf I picked up a moment ago over her eyes.  This is necessary, as I remove my hood and mask and place them on the floor, placing my face next to her bare breasts and using my tongue to suck gently on her teats.  Her moans increase in intensity as I play with her with my tongue, continuing to stroke the inside of her thighs as I move my hand closer to her crotch.  She moves, rising and falling as I pass my hand between her legs and feel the warmth underneath/

 

“You are a most beautiful cat,” I purr as I unbuckle her shorts and pull them gently down her legs, exposing her to the cool air and kissing between her legs, then her breasts, and then on her red lips.  “Does my cat want to be played with?”

 

“Yes, yes,” is her reply as I massage and kiss in equal and growing measure, feeling the hardness of her nipples in my mouth as she warns and softens to my touch between her leg.  Her moans increase in intensity with my movement, her legs spreading wider as the rope hold around her ankles, and I whisper “Do I have to ensure that you are quiet?”

 

“I want to call to the jungle,” is her hoarse reply, so I take a second scarf and gently push it into her mouth, kissing her before I do so and allowing my tongue to enter and massage the inside of her mouth.  The gag muffles her words, but not the intensity as I mount her and move in unison, moaning myself \s I do so and kissing her with every tip of my head as she rises under me....

 

 

 

The last pass of the rope around her wrists is loosened, and Beatrice raises her hand to stroke my head.  The saliva sodden cloth is on the floor, but she still wears her blindfold at my instruction.  I feel her touch in my hair and say “Thank you, my cat.”

 

“No, thank you, my kitten.” She purrs breathlessly in reply.  “I wish I could see your face, but I will obey you.”

 

“Good girl,” I say as I replace the mask and hood.  “You may now remove the blindfold – the nightdress is for you to change into before I secure you for the night.”

 

Beatrice removes the black scarf and looks down at her naked body, sweat glistening in the light.  “How much longer,” she asks as she picks up the nightgown and places it over her head.

 

“Tomorrow – now, I will fetch you some food,” I reply as I leave the room, locking the door behind me.  John looks over his shoulder as I walk in.  “Did you have fun?2 he smiles as I sit down for a moment.

 

“She is a cougar, a wildcat, and I think I would love her if she was not our prisoner,” I say.  “Later, I’ll show you why – for now, let’s get her food ready.”

 

As Beatrice eats, I watch John secure her ankles together with soft silk rope, dreaming of doing it for myself.  This woman has transfixed me – her style, her look, her body all call out for me to feed her, satisfy her, but it cannot be.  She drains her glass, and says “thank you” quietly with her head bowed.  I like her attitude, so I decide to allow her some freedom to breath and pick up the waffle ball gag.  As I walk towards her, she looks up and smiles as she says “Thank you, kitten,” opening her mouth to receive the plastic ball.  “You have been a magnificent cat, so we will allow you to rest,” I say as I fasten the straps and help her to hop over to the bed.  She sits down, and I tie her wrists together behind her back, before allowing her to lie on her side and placing her in a hogtie.  She rolls over and I hear her say “Pls ks m.”  I will need to blindfold you,” I reply with concern, but she merely nods and closes her eyes.  The black scarf is replaced, and I lift my mask to kiss her on the cheek, then on her lips.  “Gd nght,” she mumbles as John and I leave her alone.

 

“When will the ransom be paid,” I ask him as we retire to our own room.   “Tomorrow morning, as agreed,” he says as he takes me in his arms, but tonight I do not feel in the mood for our games.  Beatrice has sated my appetite, for now, so he lets me go and sits down, disappointed.  “Don’t worry, darling,” I say as I caress him, “there will be other nights,” but he just smiles.

 

 

The sun is just rising as I watch John heading off for the drop, and turn my attention to my computer for a long neglected check on my e-mails.  On the monitor, Beatrice is still sleeping, her body rising and falling with every breath.  It takes an effort for me to turn and look through the list of incoming messages, when I realise that I’ve accidentally opened John’s account.  I move to close the window, but something about the name on the messages there catches my eye.

 

The fact that the sender is called Jenny.  It’s a common name, but the coincidence intrigues me, so I open the message and start reading.

 

Beatrice turns and raises her head as I unlock the door and walk in, stifling my anger and tears over what I have just seen.  As I sit down on the bed, she moves herself so that she places her head against my legs.

 

“Beatrice,” I say, “I have discovered something that affects both of us, and I’m going to do something very unusual.  Do you trust me?”

 

She grunts and nods, relaxing as I reach over to untie her hands before helping her to sit up and removing the cords around her ankles.  She takes a moment to rub her wrists, before touching my cheek and feeling the tear that has rolled down it.  “Wht’s rng,” she mumbles, before I remove the waffle ball from her mouth and kiss her.

 

“You’ve been crying,” she says in her deep voice, and I simply nod.  “Has something happened?”  My response shocks her – I remove the scarf from over her eyes and allow her to see my face without the mask.  She takes a moment to look at me, before running her hands through my short black hair.  “So, you have an eastern heritage,” she says as she looks into my blue eyes.

 

“I am Japanese, but that is not important now.  We have both been betrayed, and I need your help.  Will you help my, my lioness?”

 

She smiles as she says “I would do anything to protect one of my cubs.  What has happened?”

 

“We were paid to kidnap you, apparently to prevent a business deal.  I have now discovered that the person who arranged was the woman you called Jenny – she has designs on your business, and has conspired with John to take the money for themselves.”

 

“I see,” she replies as she touches my face.  “It is not unheard of in my business.  Do you know how she planned to...”

 

“Yes, but please don’t ask now.  We have very little time and I need you to do exactly what I ask.  If you do that, and help me, you cannot tell the police what has happened.  Do you understand?”

 

Beatrice nods and stands up as I pass her a grey tracksuit.  “Put that on,” I say as I place a pair of trainers on the bed, “and then come with me.  We have to get out of here before John and Penny get back.”

 

She hurriedly dresses and follows me out of the cellar, through the house and into the garage.  There the car is waiting, the boot open.  “I have to go in, do I?” she asks as she looks at me, while I nod.  “It is vitally important for both of us that you are not seen with me for the present, so forgive me, but you must go in the boot.  I promise you it will not be for long.”

 

Beatrice climbs in, looks up at me and says “Kiss me kitten” as I look down.  WE kiss, briefly but passionately, before I close the boot and open the garage door to leave.  The road is clear as I turn out, and drive to the end of the road, turning right and getting away as quickly as I can, before I hear a muffled bang and see the flames rise in the background.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a cheap motel, and not the cleanest spot on the highway, but the guy in charge doesn’t ask any questions when I pay extra in cash for privacy.  As I escort Beatrice in, the hood of her top over her head, there are ideas and plans formulating in my head for revenge.  It may have been John’s house, but he did just try and kill me, which does not sit very well for either of us.

 

“I knew Jenny was ambitious,” Beatrice says as I close the door, “But to resort to this?  I want to dismember her, slowly, piece by piece...”

 

“Calm yourself, my cougar,” I say as I  take her in my arms.  “We will have time for revenge tomorrow. Tonight, we should take time to get to know each other better.”

 

“May I at least know your name, kitten,” she asks as she strokes my cheek.  “It is Ami, but I like Kitten better,” I say with a smile as our lips touch and meld into one.  We embrace, falling on the bed as I realise how much my passion for this wonderful, older and experienced fighter has grown today, mingled with the relief of our escape.  The release of those tensions lasts a long, aching and satisfying time, and as it ends Beatrice lies with her head against my naked chest, breathing deeply in her sleep.

 

As I lay there, a plan forms in my mind, and I stroke her greying hair as I realise that she is now mine, and will do whatever I ask.

 

Whatever I ask...

 

 

 

There’s a MacDonald’s across the road from Beatrice’s office, and nobody pays attention to us as we sit in the window and watch the comings and goings in the street.  She’s wearing a black wig that I have for certain occasions, and looks like a typical suburban housewife talking to her au pair.  Really, we’re looking for any sign of that treacherous little bitch Jenny.

 

“So how do you think they met?” I ask her as we watch people walk in and out.   “I recognise his name now – he joined our agency, and must have met her at an interview.  In fact...”

 

The catch in her voice makes me look up, and there they are, walking out of the office and down the street, to all the world happy and carefree.  “I want her,” Beatrice growls, and I have to stop myself from kicking her under the table.  “There will be time later, cougar,” I whisper, and she smiles as she says softly “yes, kitten.”

 

 

 

We had to wait a few hours, but now it is dark, and we make our way quickly into the lobby of the apartment block that Jenny and John are living in.  I’ve asked a friend of mine to come along to ensure that John is properly dealt with, a fellow member of the BA from long ago who heard of what he had done and wanted to make sure suitable punishment was given.  He wasn’t my concern, however – Jenny was/

 

All he did was ring the doorbell, and when John answered administer a swift blow to the side of the head and drag him off, nodding to us as he made his way back to the lift.  The front door was open, so we invited ourselves in as we heard Jenny shout “Who was it?”

 

“Why, Jenny,” Beatrice said as we walked into the main room, “Have you forgotten us so soon?”  The look on her face was priceless as she saw Beatrice standing there, and then me with several coils of rope in my hand.

 

“My kitten and I want to thank you for all that you did to bring us together,” Beatrice says as she walks over and grabs Jenny’s wrist, “and we know just how to do that.  Please, scream if you want – it will do you no good.”

 

As it is, she just stares at her as I pull her wrists behind her back and start to tie them together, before pulling her elbows together with a long coil and passing the ropes around her arms and chest.  She’s not wearing much – a short pink crop top and soft boxer shorts, so as the rope encircles her she just stares mutely.

 

“John is going to be busy for some time,” Beatrice continues as I push Jenny to her knees, “so I’m just going to have to entertain you.  I hope you find it – fascinating,” she says as she strokes the frightened girl’s cheek with her leather gloved hand, allowing me to continue to bind her as she strokes her body and face.

 

Within minutes she is lying on the floor, like a salami with coil after coil of rope around her, as I press white tape over her mouth.  “You will be going on a trip, Jenny,” Beatrice says as she knells behind her, “but first I want to play with you, if I may, kitten?”

 

“Go ahead, my cougar,” I reply as I watch her stroke the frightened girl, anticipating my own encounter later that night.  Jenny tries to move away, but there is no escape as Beatrice shows her all that she will be missing when she is taken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The memory of that day is still with me to today, two years later.  I have a new job, working with Beatrice at her agency as her executive assistant, but I still have another source of income, one which Beatrice shares with me as the young, lonely wealthy woman come to try and find love.  Every so often we invite one of them to – stay awhile.

 

I’m watching one of them now, lying naked and bound on the bed in our new cellar while Beatrice tends to her needs, washing her down and gently drying her with a soft towel.  Her maturity helps them to settle, while I ensure they cause no trouble while we wait for payment.

 

At any rate, I know better than to cage my cougar – too much.

 

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