Denim Days

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why this may be the case, I don’t know, but one of the things I love the most is to see a woman wearing denim in some form or another.  And in my career, there have been occasions when I have had the chance to share time with women wearing denim.

 

Silent time, perhaps, but still time.  After all, as a burglar you have to be prepared to stop them raising the alarm, don’t you?

 

One particular lady comes immediately to mind – she was sunbathing in her rear garden when I surprised her.  She had long dark hair and was wearing a black halter top and denim mini skirt, with white socks and trainers, and her eyes were closed.  Almost as if she felt she could not be touched in her little kingdom.

 

It must be nice to feel so safe and unafraid – so I hope she wasn’t too surprised by my hand over her mouth, or my request to her not to struggle or scream.  It certainly seemed to take her a while to understand what was happening, but eventually she nodded in agreement.

 

So, I started with a nice simple cleave gag – a folded white cloth pulled between her lips with the ends secured in a nice bow at the base of her neck. It pulled the corners of her mouth back and looked nice – even if it was not the most effective of gags in terms of silencing her.

 

The fear she seemed to be feeling was enough, however, to keep her quiet.  I then took some white cord from my pocket and made her sit forward, and then bound her wrists tightly together behind her back.  I could see the goosebumps rising on her bare back as I took the rope around and between her arms, making sure she could not move her wrists apart.

 

I then bound her ankles with another length of rope, making sure it was tightly cinched between her legs as well.  There she was, sitting with her legs tucked under her bottom, looking at me as if she was wondering what I was going to do next. 

 

And what did I do next?  I left her there to enjoy the sunshine as I quickly went into the house, found her purse, and went away again, leaving her to consider how she could get free…

 

 

 

It is actually amazing how effectively someone can be immobilised by only a few ropes, and something to stop them talking clearly.  There was this brunette I surprised at home one Saturday morning – tall, wearing a cream-coloured t-shirt and faded blue jeans, with nothing on her feet.  And she was alone, watching Saturday Kitchen.

 

Well, she needed a little excitement in her life if that was what she was watching, didn’t she?  After all, James Martin is fine as a cook, but as a presenter or a person to dream of?

 

So, I provided that excitement – making her sit on the long blue velvet couch with her hands on her head while I tied her ankles tightly together with some white rope I had found.  As I did so, I made her tell me where I could find all her nice shiny things, while reassuring her she would come to no harm if she did as I asked.

 

I then told her to lie face down and produced the second length of rope I had found – this one long and brown, which I used to bind her wrists tightly together as she flexed her fingers.  I then took the rope down and bent her legs slightly before I took the rope between her ankles and round the binding – and then back up, so that she lay on her side in a hogtie.

 

Last thing to do was to keep her quiet – which I did with some blue tape that was lying round, covering her lips and jaw, before I went to see what I could find.  When I came back, she had fallen off the couch and was on the floor, her eyes closed – but she seemed unharmed, so I left her to enjoy the dulcet, boring tones of Mister Marten as I left the house…

 

 

 

 

 

Mind you, some of the ladies I have visited have been genuinely excited to end up as I leave them.  There was this one blonde I visited – I remember she was wearing a peach top with elbow length sleeves, and pair of knee length denim pants – and again, she was barefoot when I walked in on her.

This time, I brought my own ropes, so I made her kneel down on the floor and crossed her wrists behind her back before I bound them tightly together.  She looked over her shoulder as I did this – and then she surprised me, by saying it was nice and tight.

 

Turned out she was one of those people who like being tied up for fun and entertainment – but I only had a limited amount of rope with me, so I got her to sit down and watch as I tied her ankles together, and then her legs above her knees so that the cinched band sat between the bottom of her long shorts and said joints.

 

She even told me to go to the hallway and fetch a long black scarf with a floral print and use that as a cleave gag – and she did look cute with the corners of her mouth pulled back when I applied it as requested. 

 

Finally, she managed to lie on her side in front of the television, watching as I pulled her ankles back and tied them to her wrists, before I left her happily struggling while I robbed her…

 

 

 

It may appear from the way I am talking that I am an aficionado of the cleave gag – and I cannot deny the simplicity, even if the effectiveness in silencing someone on its own is questionable. 

 

I also like to keep the binding simple – and yes, it is possible to do it with one long enough length of rope.  This I can demonstrate with the story of a brunette I surprised one afternoon – she was wearing a purple vest top and a shirt denim skirt, and I had a long coil of yellow rope.

So, the first thing I did was made her kneel down, and then used one end of the rope to bind her crossed wrists tightly together, making sure the rope held firm.  I then tied the rope round her waist before I made her lie on her side on the floor and bent her legs before I tied the rope round and between her ankles as well. 

 

I took the rope back up and tied it between her arms again, which kept her secure while I searched the house.  And how did I keep her quiet?  In this case, A red bean bag in her mouth did the job, with the help of some clear tape…

 

 

 

Still, simple is best, especially when the lady is wearing denim.  And doubly so when she wears a pair of denim cut-off shorts.

 

She was a teacher, with short brown hair and glasses, wearing a black cropped vest, and yes, she was barefoot as well.  We walked up to her bedroom, where I took some brown rope and bound her wrists tightly together behind her back, before a white rolled up cloth became a surprisingly effective cleave gag.

 

She also had on glasses – and her eyes were wide as I tied her ankles together, cinching that binding as well, then had to watch as I took valuables from her drawers…

 

 

 

But then there is you, my dear lady – I trust you understand why I do what I do now, especially when you objected so much to my reasonable request.

 

That’s why I had to make sure you could not move, in your blue velvet blouse, jeans and silver shoes – your wrists nicely secured behind your back, rope framing your chest and then under your arms and over your shoulders.  Comfy?

 

Oh yes – and then I sat you cross-legged and tied your ankles together so that you could stay there a while.

 

And that lovely blue scarf – so nice with the knot sitting between your teeth to keep you nice and quiet.

 

So, tell me – where are your jewels?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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