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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