Retro Bound
It was quite a
weekend – profitable, and fun as well, and there was a theme that ran through
the four visits that I made.
The first was
on the Friday afternoon, as I arrived at the large detached house. I had been staking it out for some time – the
owner had a very fine silver collection, and I had clients that could make good
use of it.
He and his wife
were meant to be away at work, and his
nineteen year old daughter at University, so I thought I would have the house
to myself as I forced the back door and walked in. I had expected the alarm to go off, but when
I made my way to the control box that was in the hallway, I was surmised to
find that it had been turned off.
The reason it had
been turned off became clear when I looked in the front room – the daughter had
come home. She had long light brown
hair, held back by a white headband, and was dressed in a preppy style – a
white V-necked Arran sweater, and a short, checked skirt in cream and
brown. She was also wearing a pair of
knee length white leather boots, loose fitting, with a square block heel.
She was equally
surprised to see me – but the gun I pointed at her helped persuade her that
cooperating was in her best interests, as I asked her to remove her jewellery
and place them in a small velvet bag I handed to her.
I then took from
the bag I was carrying a length of white cord, and walked behind her, guiding
her arms over the low back of the chair she was sitting on and then crossing her
wrists behind her back before I secured them tightly together.
I then made
extra sure she could not move her hands away by securing the wrist binding to
the back leg of the chair, before my longer rope was used to secure her waist
to the chair back and her upper arms to her sides, her jumper stretching over
her chest as it stretched over her body.
It did make her look more inviting, but at that point in time I was more
concerned with making sure I had time to finish securing the other valuables in
the house than with playing with her.
The next thing
I did was to kneel in front of her and push her ankles against the front legs
of the chair, the ropes round her botted ankles as I made sure they were
secured to the metal and then to each other across the front of the chair. Finally, I passed rope round her legs below
her knees, which made sure it was even more difficult for her to get up.
Now, she
remained silent through all this – and she stayed silent apart from grunting as
I pinched her nose closed, and then stuffed a folded white cloth into her mouth
before covering her lips with white tape.
She stayed
there while I raided the rest f the house, and then got out before her parents
returned…
Now, while I
was surprised that she was at home when I called, her style of dress simply
reflected a current fashion for young women to dress in the style of the
sixties or seventies. I did not expect
that style would be at my next target on the Saturday afternoon.
The lady in
question was a local television personality in the southeast of England – and
when I made my way into her house in Canterbury, I did not hear anyone present
or in situ.
At first.
Because when I
walked into the kitchen, there was the lady of the house – dressed in the most
psychedelic of styles. She was wearing
an orange, pink and brown psychedelic dress, a matching band holding back her
long and curly light brown hair. The
skirt of her dress was short, the sleeves long and like bell bottomed jeans in
the way they flared out from the elbow, and her outfit was completed by a pair
of over the knee white leather boots.
She had also
been having a drink or three, judging by the half-empty bottle of vodka on the
kitchen table and the way she giggled when she saw me. “what’s this – a bad robber come to tie me up
and steal my things,” she slurred as she looked at me.
“Indeed,” I
said quietly, “so are you going to let me tie you up and gag you, or are you
going to cause me any trouble?”
“Oh I’m in no
position to stop you,” she said as she slowly stood up, “do your worst.”
“All right
then,” I said as I put my bag on the table and opened it. She looked at the coils of rope as I took one
out, and giggled “I’m in trouble now” as I walked behind her and used the rope
to bind her wrists tightly together, keeping the cuffs of her sleeves above the
binding as I did so.
Once I had her
wrists tightly secured, I took from my bag a longer length and shook it loose,
doubling it over before I wrapped It round her body and pulled it tight under
her chest.
“Is all the
rope just for me,” she said as I wrapped the rope round her again and again,
making two bands that framed her chest as her breasts were forced up, her dress
stretching over them.
“I’m afraid not
– I have another home to visit, and I may need them then,” I said with a smile
as I pulled the rope tight, and then took the ends over one arm, feeding it
under the lower band between her breasts and then over her other shoulder. When I had secured the ends, she twisted
round, and said “okay – no way I can use the phone, but what about calling for
help?”
“Yeah – I need
to stop that,” I said with a smile as I loosened the knot holding the ends of
her headband together, and then moved it down and between her lips as she
opened her mouth, before re-securing the ends as it became a matching cleave
gag.
“Shhththlll?”
“I think so – I
need to make sure you don’t do any harm to yourself,” I said as I picked up my
bag, “let’s go into your front room.”
“Hkhhhethn,”
she mumbled as we walked into her front room, and she sat at one ned of a long
leather settee, watching as I closed the curtains over the windows. I then up the bag down and knelt at her feet,
crossing her ankles and securing them together in the same way as her wrists.
“Ohkhhnhhchntmhf,”
she said quietly as I tied those ropes off, and then secured her legs together
below her knees in the same way.
Cinching both bands by taking the rope between her legs as well as round
them, the only other sound was the squeak of leather on leather before I made her
lie face down, and hogtied her.
She rolled over
onto her side and watched me as I searched the room, and then went round the
rest of the house. When I came back, she
was asleep, snoring as she breathed in and out, the scarf between her lips now
darker at the corner. I checked to make
sure she was all right, and then left with her valuables.
As I said, I
had a second visit to make, so at six that evening I was in a street to the
north of Brighton, having stopped to replenish my supplies of materials. I was aware this home belonged to a young
couple – two young female pop singers, both of whom were booked to play a
concert that night, in different venues, so I presumed I would not meet any
obstacles.
Still, I also
believe in being prepared. So I got out
of my car, holding my bag as I looked round, and then walked up to the front
door of the house.
It only took me
a few minutes to get in – and as I closed the door, I heard a voice say “what
the…” Turning round, I saw one of the
young ladies in question was still in residence – and I had to move fast to
grab and hand gag her before she made any noise.
She was dressed
in the style of the early seventies all right – in particular, the romper suit
she was wearing. It had elbow length sleeves
and very short shorts, with a zip fastening at the front, and was made of a
soft fabric patterned with swirls of blue, white, yellow – all sorts of colours. She was also wearing a pair of front-laced
white leather boots that came up to her knee, and a white cap on her long
blonde hair.
It was while I
was holding, and she tried to get free, I heard a very low buzzing sound – and
I could feel she was squirming in my grasp, but also heard her soft moan.
“Stop
struggling,” I said quietly, “and let me tie you up and gag you before I steal
your valuables. I’ll do it in a way that
will -add to your pleasure.”
“Whttduhmhn,”
she mumbled into my gloved hand.
“Well, let me
put this way – you’re wearing VibraPants, aren’t you?”
What are
VibraPants, you ask? They’re like a string
bikini pair of briefs – but they have knots in various places, and each of
those knots have in them a small vibration device. They have been a – discrete secret for years,
so women could have pleasure and nobody would know, if the setting was kept low.
I saw her blush
and nod, as I said “so, are you going to let me tie you up?”
“hw?”
“I’ll show you
– if I take my hand away, stand still and put your hands behind your back, palm
to palm.”
I watched as
she nodded, and then put her hands behind her back as I took some white rope
from my bag. Doubling it over, I started
by passing it round her arms at her elbows and pulling them together, making
her gasp as I took the rope round and between her arms. Once I had that secured, then I secured her
wrists together, making sure that binding was cinched as well.
“Well – that’s
tight,” she whispered.
“this makes it
even tighter, “I whispered into her ear as the long rope went round her body,
forcing her arms against her back as I framed her small chest in two bands of
rope. I felt them as I passed the rope
round several times, and then under one arm, up and round the back of her neck,
and under the other arm.
She certainly looked
different as I stood in front of her, doubling over another long length of rope
and passing it round both bands, between her breasts. It was only as I pulled the rope down sharply
and the bands hugged her chest more tightly.
“oh,” she
whispered as I let the ends of the rope drop to the floor, and walked behind
her, “oh my god you can’t be SEERRIIOUSSSS….”
I allowed her
that shout – after all, I had just reached between her legs, and pulled the
rope back and up, forcing those little vibrators against her crotch as I took
the rope up, and tied the ends between her elbows as well…
To make it even
more fun for her, I forced her to walk up the stairs and into her bedroom,
letting her lie face down as I secured her ankles together, and then her legs
below her knees, before pulling her ankles back and tying them to her crotch
rope.
She groaned as
she tried to move – and then those groans were muffled as I pushed a pair of
her dirty panties into her mouth, then wrapped white tape round her head to
make sure they stayed where I had put them.
She then had – pleasure, while I took great pleasure in taking her
valuables away with me…
So you see –
that retro look was a definite theme, but even then I had a surprise coming on
the Sunday afternoon. I was now in
Guildford, near the university and the Cathedral, as I opened the patio doors
and let myself into the large conservatory.
The resident
female was a woman in her late fifties, the widow of a MP and a very wealthy
businessman – so it was a pleasure for me to meet her in the front room of the
house. She had long grey hair, and was
wearing a long sleeve minidress with a floral print on the material, the cuffs
flaring out from her wrists. In what
seemed to be a running theme as well this weekend, she was wearing knee length
white boots – in her case, straight ones with no zips.
She was
actually perfectly calm about my presence – in fact, she said it had been
something of an occupational hazard when her husband was alive. As she allowed me to secure her wrists
together behind her back, she regaled me with the tale of when she and her
daughter had been held hostage to force her husband to smuggle certain packages
into the country – and that I was at least polite in what I was doing.
Once I had her
wrists secured, I did what I had done with the other two women – used a longer
length of rope to secure her arms to her sides, framing her chest between the
two bands as I did so. She told me how
she and her daughter had been held on beds, tied spreadeagled – a most
uncomfortable way to spend any length of time.
I had no
intention of being that cruel, as I tied the ropes off and then knelt in front of
her as she sat down on a recliner, watching as I used more rope to secure her ankles
together, and then her legs below her knees.
The white sank into the white leather as her ankles were forced
together, the squeak as I secured her legs together and she sighed.
I then invited
her to make herself comfortable, as she lay on her side on the recliner, her
head on the raised part and her legs along the seat – legs which I further
secured by securing her ankles to the leg there. I then pressed white micropore tape over her
mouth and her eyes – at her request. She
said it felt right for a damsel from the seventies to be like that.
And who am I to
argue?
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