Scarf
Silence
An Anabaptist
community in central England was where it began, or at least it began for me. You may not have heard of Anabaptists, but I
bet you have seen them around – the women all wear headscarves, as do the
girls. Not like an Islamic woman, but
tied over their hair with the ends at the back of their neck.
I was still
fairly new to the business then, and I did have a bad habit of not taking
binding material with me – because I was cocky, and never thought anyone would
be home. More fool me – I found out the
hard way what that can lead to that morning.
And that hard
way was the lady of the house – a woman in her early thirties, wearing a white
blouse with a deep neckline, and a two-tiered peasant skirt - the top half brown
with a white trim, the lower half green with a red floral pattern. She was also wearing white scarf over her
frizzed blonde hair, as well as a rather fetching pair of grey slippers – and a
shocked expression when she walked in on me searching her bedroom.
She did try to
run out of the room, and scream for help.
But fortunately (for me) I was faster, and I caught her, pulling her
back into the room as I covered her mouth with my wool gloved hand. Oh, she screamed and struggled, but as I explained
to her that if she kept struggling, she would get hurt, and I had no intention
of doing anything beyond stopping her raising the alarm, she eventually stopped
the fighting.
I took my hand
away, and told her to show me her scarves – and a fine collection she showed
me, as I looked inside the door of her wardrobe. I selected a large white carf, folded it into
a pad – and then stuffed it into her mouth, her lips around it as the edges
stuck out, before I told her not to spit it out.
To my relief,
she was too scared to do anything except nod, as I sat her on the floor and
took out two long black scarves. I
crossed her ankles and used one to secure them tightly together, and then used
the second one to bind her wrists together in front of her. As she rested them on her upper legs, she
watched as I searched the bedroom, found some nice jewels and her purse, and
then made an effective getaway.
Now, it may not
seem much, but I learned a few things that day.
Number one – Anabaptists are not necessarily poor people. Number two – It may not be the most effective
gag, but seeing her eyes as she tried to speak with the cloth sticking out of
her mouth made me feel good. Number three
– establish your presence, and you will succeed.
As for the
fourth thing – that grew over the next few years, as I focused my attentions to
that community, choosing my targets, making sure they were secured – first with
their own scarves, and then when I finally learned the lesson with ropes I took
them with me. But there was something
else going on – and I did not realise what it was I was experiencing for some
time.
When it did
become clear was one fine Monday morning – I hit the house of a local bank
manager, who also happened to be the elder of a local chapel. This time, I knew his wife and daughter would
be at home – and it was his wife who answered the door when I knocked on it. She had on a long floral print dress, with
shoulder straps and sleeves off the shoulders themselves, as well as a matching
scarf tied over her blonde hair in the traditional manner.
The gun I
pointed at her made the point, however, as she walked backwards with her hands
raised in the air. Smiling, I made her
walk into the dining room and sit in one of the dining chairs, before I knelt
behind her and took her arms round the back of the chair.
I had lengths
of nice black rope with me, and I used one of them to secure her wrists together
behind her back, making sure the rope went round and between her limbs before I
tied the ends off out of range of her fingers.
She kept asking me what I wanted – so I told her I wanted her to be
quiet, as I passed more rope round her waist and forced her against the chair
back.
That was when
her daughter walked into the room, a white scarf ted over her dark hair. She was wearing a blue sundress with a thin
halter tie, and was surprised to see her mother tied to the chair – and then
the gun in my hand as I motioned for her to sit next to her mother.
A few minutes
later, and both women had their wrists and waists secured, twisting round as
they both looked at me. I stated at that
time all I wanted was their money- but as they twisted round, there was
something in the way they moved…
I knelt down
and crossed the older woman’s ankles, binding them tightly together with a
length of the black rope before I tied it to the chair leg. Repeating the process on her daughter, I
stood up and then folded two small towels, one of which I pushed into each of
their mouths. I looked at both of them
and then smiled as I left them.
It was what
happened when I came back to the room that took me by surprise. The two women had their eyes closed and were
twisting round in the ropes – and they seemed to be moaning as they did
so. I genuinely never realised that
someone could actually enjoy being bound and gagged – but they seemed to be,
with the cloth getting darker round their lips as it sat in their mouths.
I walked behind
them, wondering if I could dare do what I was thinking of doing – and then I
gently started to caress their breasts, one in each hand as I moved from side
to side.
Their eyes
never opened up – they just moaned more loudly as I caressed them, and pressed
their bodies out. It was the strangest
of things, but I was also getting some pleasure from it, so I continued to play
with them for a while, until I whispered I had to go, and left them there.
No, I didn’t
take it too far, but it certainly made me feel good – and they seemed to
appreciate it as well. Not that I was
sticking around to ask – but it did get me thinking for other visits.
No, I did not
turn into that sort of intruder overnight – but if I felt the woman I visited
would appreciate it, then I would provide that extra pleasure as well. And then I uncovered a very personal secret.
It was another
manager’s house, and the family were meant to be out when I called. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard
voices on the upper floor, and I made my way quietly up.
Looking into
the bedroom, I saw the daughter standing there, wearing a cream coloured top
held up with thin straps, a long white skirt and a red bandana tied in the
usual manner over her hair. She was
standing there with a woman about the same age as her, wearing a black top with
a rope necklace round her neck, a long black skirt and a white scarf with
little red roses tied over her hair.
As I watched,
the daughter smiled as she looked at the second woman through her glasses, and
then she put her arms round her neck, before they both started to kiss.
Well, that made
my eyes open wide, especially when they reached round and loosened each other’s
skirt, letting them drop to the floor as they continued to kiss. I had obviously interrupted something, and
part of me felt I should leave them to it.
But that would hardly
be professional, would it?
SO I walked in
– and the look of shock on their faces was a site to behold as they stood
there, the daughter with white lace briefs on, her partner with a black G-string. I explained I was there to rob them, and had
to make sure neither of them could raise the alarm – and then I told her friend
to take her scarf off, and fold it into a pad.
The daughter asked
why I was making her remover her modest covering- and then she found out, as at
my request her friend pushed the balled up scar into her mouth, shaking as she did
so.
The daughter
could only mumble as I picked up a blue and white cloth from the bed, and
pushed it into her friend’s mouth, before telling them both to turn round and
put their hands behind their back. They
complied, mumbling to each other as I used thin white cord to secure their
wrists together behind their backs, and then I made them walk back down the
stairs, taking them into the dining room and sitting them next to each other as
I knelt down and made sure their ankles were secured in the same way as their
wrists.
I looked at
both of them and they looked at me- and I felt they needed to be more
secured. I had longer lengths of rope in
my bag, which I used to secure their arms to their sides and their bodies to
the chair back, framing their chest as I did so – and I could hear their
muffled groans as I made sure the ropes were as tight as possible.
This had a
number of effects – it held them, true, but it made them moan even more as they
looked at each other, and I could see the way their tops were stretched over
their breasts now. They both then
started to move, the ropes rubbing on them – and as they did so, they closed
their eyes, and their moans grew louder.
This did indeed
seem to eb turning them both on, so I started to play with their chests as well
– and they both nodded as I did that. In
fact, they rubbed their heads against each other- so I did something new,
concentrating on the daughter as her friend opened her eyes and watched. My massage and caress made her shiver, and
glancing down I could see she was rubbing her legs together as well. She really did seem to be getting into this,
as I felt the nudge on my arm and looked at her friend.
“Your friend
needs some attention,” I whispered into the daughter’s ear, and she opened her
eyes to watch as I massaged her chest as well, hearing her soft moans as she
pressed up into my hands and rubbed against them. She really was getting into it – and the
daughter was slowly twisting round as well, making the ropes rub on her chest
as she did so.
I could also
see a damp patch between their legs, so as I continued massaging with one hand,
I reached down and put my other hand between the friend’s legs – and that made
her groan even more as I stroked her there, before her whole body started to
shake and her eyes opened wide.
The daughter
than looked at me and nodde3d – so I helped her to come to a climax as well,
before leaving them rubbing their cheeks as I made sure I did what I came to
do.
And that was
when I moved to the way I operate now. I
still scouted out and researched families in this community – but I also
researched their personal predilections, and where the opportunity arises, I
step in. Such as today.
Lying on the
bed is the wife of the local pastor – normally a very demure woman, modestly
dressed, and her hair covered at all times.
But this was a Saturday morning, and I caught her with her hair down –
and with the aid of some chloroform, I made sure she stayed asleep a little
while longer.
She was proving
herself to be a proper cougar as well – wearing a sleeveless leopard print
dress with a skirt that barely came to the top of her thighs. Thin spaghetti
like shoulder straps – tres chic.
I had used some
blue nylon rope I had to tie her wrists together in front of her, and then
wrapped it round her legs as I took it down to secure her ankles together as
well. The large yellow chiffon scarf that
had covered her blonde hair I had taken off, folded into a band and used to
blindfold her as she lay there – and then I stuffed her mouth with a pink
headscarf,
I can see her
moving slightly now, waking up – time to give her pleasure…
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