Miss Lonely Heart · Part 2

Miss Lonely Heart · Part 2 (2/2)
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a voice in her ear, "Please don't try to fight me. Let's go into your home and sort things out." And with that she was pushed through her front door and into the hallway. It flashed through her mind that for the second time in little over a week she was being taken captive in her own home and each time it had begun with her being addressed with the term "Good evening Edith."

"Now Edith," said her assailant once they were in the darkened hall, "Let's be sensible about this. I'm sure you're not going to scream. If you did I'd have to do something forceful. First I just want us to have a quiet talk. Will you do that?" It was not easy with the rubber gloved hand pressing on her lips but Edith managed a faint nod. "Good," murmured her captor, "Now let's have some light." He pushed the door closed behind him, groped around for a while, found the hall light switch and turned it on. "Don't turn round yet," he warned.

Though Edith could not see him, her visitor was about her own age, obviously very strong and fit, wore a waterproof rain jacket, blue jeans and a dark woollen cap. He had a square face, was clean shaven and might have been considered reasonably good looking. He put his gloved hands on her upper arms and positioned her squarely in the middle of the hall carpet.

"Now Edith," he continued, "It is unfortunately necessary to tie you up. Just relax, be calm and you'll be quite comfortable. And be quiet." He took some prepared lengths of white rope from his jacket pocket, put them on the hall table and began to bind the, by now, resigned householder. The water resistant fabric of her raincoat rustled softly.

As he crossed her hands behind her back and tied her wrists Edith reflected how the events of eight days ago were happening over again. And she was also firmly convinced that the two incidents were related. That the two intruders somehow knew each other. Yet the woman of the first invasion had known there was nothing in the house other than the item she had come for. What on earth was this character after? Meanwhile her captor was tightly tying her arms to her sides, using several lengths of rope. He cinched them carefully under her armpits. She was being very professionally bound.

Edith felt it was time for her to make a stand, despite the admonition to be silent. "Do you know the woman who was here eight days ago?" she asked suddenly. Silence. "She must have told you there's nothing in the house worth taking." Silence again. "Then why have you come here?"

"You're asking too many questions. Time to gag you." The gag he produced was a damp wet pad tied in the middle of a short length of rope. Rather like the one his predecessor had used, Edith wryly thought. Though not quite the same, this one was slightly smaller. She could mouth a few garbled words if she tried. Finally he produced a thick black sash which he pulled over her eyes and firmly tied at the back of her head. She was now bound, gagged and blindfolded. What was going to happen next?

She didn't have long to wait. Her captor seized her upper arms and marched the bound householder into her own bedroom. Stopping her beside the bed he undid her raincoat belt and the bottom buttons. Next he unclasped her skirt and dragged it and her underwear down onto the floor and made her step out of it. He forced her to sit on the bed and pulled off the ankle length rain boots she put on to venture out into the wet evening. He then made her lie down on the bed, pushed a folded coverlet from the foot of the bed under her bottom and arranged a pillow comfortably under her head. Lastly he spread the unbuttoned skirts of her raincoat wide over the bed, fully exposing her legs and pelvis.

By now it was quite obvious what he was going to do. And since she was bound and gagged there was nothing Edith could do about it. She thought of lashing out with her legs but did not. Her mind went back to two remarks her lady captor of over a week ago had made. 'I'll bet you haven't had a fuck in years,' and 'Perhaps I could help you.' Was this what she had meant — and done? Sending round what was obviously one of her partners in trade to forcibly give her a love experience? Otherwise known as rape.

Meanwhile, her present visitor was getting on with it. He had flung aside his rain jacket, undone his jeans and pulled them down, together with his underpants and was now kneeling on the bed between her legs. Despite his apparent haste he was now gently kneading her gaping orifice which, to Edith's somewhat embarrassment, had already become wet. He seemed just as practiced as her previous helpmate. He carefully pushed his now erect member, now throbbing almost painfully, slowly inside her. Edith, but for her gag, would have moaned with ecstasy as she was penetrated. He then began to pummel her quickly, too quickly. Edith, meanwhile, taking the view she could do nothing to prevent what was happening and deciding she might as well enjoy it, was starting tentatively to respond when her partner prematurely ejaculated.

Anticlimax — her partner, previously so active and eager, was now stopped cold. Edith simply felt let down, even annoyed. And she decided she would take a firm line with this character.

He rolled off, apparently thinking his weight was too heavy for her. He had the grace to whisper "Sorry" as he did so. Edith, speaking as well as her gag would allow, mouthed the words 'Can I have a drink of water.' It took some time for her now silent partner to comprehend but eventually he understood. He got up stiffly and went into the bathroom. Filling her tooth glass with water he brought it back and, after removing her gag, he lifted her bound upper body upright and held it to her lips.

She drank about half of it. He looked as if he was ready to retie her gag but she shook her head. Now, she felt was the time for her to get the upper hand despite her being tightly bound.

She spoke forcefully, "I saw your van, parked under the trees at the end of the street." This was a complete shot in the dark. She did not know it was his vehicle but there was nothing else parked in the entire street. And it hit the jackpot. He swung his gaze abruptly, looked at her sharply and almost dropped the water glass. Though blindfolded she could feel the effect her words had had. Sensing success she pressed on. "Number plate………", she recited the letters and numbers she had so coincidentally memorized earlier in the evening. He said absolutely nothing. So then, she reasoned, it was his van.

She had the advantage now and so continued on. Much of what she was to say was guesswork but she had made a guess to begin with and it had proved correct and now she could only keep going. "This is what you do, isn't it? A respectable tradesman by day. And then you go out and steal to order by night?" She was guessing but she had a feeling she was right. She had even used the phrase 'steal to order' the police had mentioned, hoping it might impress his professional mind. And her wild speculation was correct. This was exactly what he did do.

There were just a few unanswered questions. How had he got to know her? She continued with her wild guessing. "Your lady friend who was here a week or so. She told you about me? Didn't she? Just exactly what did she say about me? I'd be interested to know?" She tried to sound as offhand as possible.

At last he spoke. Hesitatingly. "Er, well. She did. She, ah, said you were a frustrated old maid. And needed a good forceful love experience. And that I should do the honours." He concluded grudgingly, "I wasn't happy about it, but, er, I do owe her a few favours. For some reason she seemed sorry for you. She said the Lonely Hearts columns were a waste of time."

"Very thoughtful of her," Edith, still in full flight, continued, "I could resent the term 'old maid,' but let it pass. Anyway, so far you haven't 'done the honours.' Have you?"

"You didn't bring me to orgasm. I was just starting to respond when you let go prematurely. I don't call that a success. Not for me anyway. Do you?"

"Er… No," he actually sounded remorseful. "Look, I'm sorry. I have hair trigger trouble. It lets me down from time to time. I am sorry."

"Well now," Edith was determined to see this through to the end. "You sound a pretty strong boy to me. And you've had time to recover. Gather your strength, one might say. We can have a second try. Only this time with some guidance from me. So put that gag away." And with that she lay back on the bed, eased herself into a comfortable position and stretched her legs. The fabric of her raincoat rustled softly. Neither took any notice of the bonds still securing her arms.

And a second try they did make. It took longer, but this time was successful for all concerned. He was able to rise to the occasion and once inserted they both strove and thrust in unison, but this time with Edith calling the shots. It took many minutes but gradually she drifted towards climax and finally dissolved in a shattering, noisy orgasm that shook her whole body. Even her partner managed to ejaculate a second time.

Long after they both sat silently on the edge of the bed. She was untied and her blindfold had been removed. Her skirt and knickers had been picked up and placed neatly on her chest of drawers. She still wore her raincoat which was now unbuttoned. She was thinking quickly and carefully. More remained to be decided. Her immediate future had to be worked out and this had to be done in a businesslike way. She was going to remain in charge. The old, passive librarian Edith who subscribed to the Personals was gone. She spoke suddenly. "Is there a lady in your life at the moment?"

"Uh, er," he was caught completely unawares, "Well no. There isn't. Why do you ask?"

"I hope that's the truth," she went on, "Because for the immediate future I want short, regular visits. Say every week or ten days or so. Just quick, professional meetings to satisfy my needs. There's no need for us to be in love. Just good satisfactory couplings, done quickly, ending in a good orgasm. Shouldn't take any more than an hour. It's necessary for me. Perhaps," she smiled, "You'll get something out of it yourself."

"Are you serious?" he asked incredulously, "You're asking me to visit you regularly with a view to, er well, for want of a better word, servicing you? Are you really serious?"

"Quite serious," said the new Edith who was now determined to see this through to the finish. "And don't get the idea of killing me to stop me. This isn't worth a homicide for a start. And besides, your semen's already inside me. There'd have to be a PM and who knows what they'd find out from that in these DNA days. You're caught, my friend. Just go with the flow. And," she added with a smile, "After you've gone I'm immediately going to make a detailed written account of our recent dealings, with several copies. These will go to places where they'll be found at once, and reported, if anything mysterious were to happen to me. And in that case you and your friend can explain it all to the police."

He looked at her with respect. At last he quietly said, "And I was told you were just a dithering, timid old maid librarian who needed a good, forceful fuck to brighten up her dreary deprived existence. Something between a good deed and a joke. How utterly misinformed I was."

She ignored this and went on. "Now, to get this on a businesslike basis. You know where I live. You probably already have my phone number. If not I'll give it to you. At this stage I don't want to know where you live. Though I suspect it's somewhere close." Another wild guess which hit the jackpot. He lived about five miles away. Luck was really with Edith tonight. "But I want a contact number, so I can get in touch with you when required for your, shall we say, service visits."

"And," she continued, "Don't try to fob me off with a phony number. An hour from now I'll ring the number you give me and if you're not there, or if you've given me something bogus, I'll go straight to the police. I'll tell them a heartrending story of how a vicious thug broke in, bound and gagged me and raped me twice. The evidence will still be there to prove it. I'll also tell them you knew the woman who broke in a week ago. That'll get your lady friend involved and she won't like that at all. And of course a mention of your parked vehicle down there. I wonder if anyone else has noticed it by now?"

"All right, all right, I'll go along with it," he sounded resigned, certainly concerned enough to co-operate. He was wondering about his van himself.

Fifteen minutes later Edith escorted him to the door. She still wore her raincoat and was without her skirt. They faced each other before he took his leave. "I don't know how our future association will go at all. But, we'll see, we'll see," she smiled again. "Think of it as a series of trade calls you have to make. I don't know what you'll get out of it," another smile, "But it'll be marvelous for my well-being, and sense of contentment."

"Oh, and finally. You and your friend both know my name, and used it. What name should I call you?"

He looked at her and said, "Leon."

"Very well Leon," she smiled, "We needn't kiss. This is going to be a business relationship as much as anything. Best of luck."

Edith should have felt honoured. In his daily world as a tradesman and in the demi-monde of the theft to order fraternity her visitor was known as Lee. He had told her his actual given name.

He left, thinking of how unexpectedly things had turned out. And wondering what the future would hold.

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Miss Lonely Heart · Part 2 (2/2)
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