Two Ladies Satisfied · Part 1

Two Ladies Satisfied · Part 1 (1/2)
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It was early evening on a late Autumn day. Marcia was walking home to her cottage at the end of a quiet suburban street in a good suburb. There was a low ridge behind it, on which a state of the art business complex had recently been built. This was reputed to be the hub of a very important international finance corporation.

Marcia was just turned forty, of middle height, athletically slim with a narrow face, pointed chin and short, straight dark brown hair worn in a severe, page boy cut. Tertiary educated, she worked as a systems analyst in a nearby regional suburb. She wore a neat two piece business suit, hat and gloves and carried a leather handbag.

She had never married, though had been engaged several times. None of these arrangements made it into matrimony. She was a careful sensible woman who was not going to get involved in anything she felt had little ultimate chance of success. But she enjoyed the company of men, over several relationships. And still hoped to find a partner. Though there seemed less chance of this as time passed.

Good at her job, she had acquired the comfortable two bedroom home she now lived in. Tiring of living alone, she had a few years back taken in a companion boarder. This was Marie, a single young lady of thirty two who seemed to have even less social success than Marcia herself. Some locals unkindly said the two had the makings of a pair of perennial old maids. More of Marie later.

Nearing home, she looked up at the ridge at the end of her street where the financial complex was. Something seemed to be going on up there. Noises, police sirens, lights going on. She wondered, then shrugged. Nothing to do with her.

Reaching her front gate she looked at the cottage. Marie was home, she could see a light in her bedroom. And one in the kitchen as well. What was unusual was the front porch light was not on. Marie always left that on for her.

And the front door was locked. Marie usually left that unsecured for her to get in. This was a quiet middle class area. Unwanted intruders were unheard of here. Marcia found her key in her handbag and let herself in. Switching on the hall light, she set off down the passageway. She noted the door into Marie’s bedroom was open and the light, as mentioned, already on.

And now to Marie. This young lady in her very early thirties was not very tall and of stout build. She had a broad, often smiling face and very wavy, black hair. Not overly educated, she nonetheless could do office work adequately and well and was known to be reliable.

Marie’s problem was her woeful lack of social skills. In an age when most young ladies could dance well, she could barely get round the floor. Amongst her peer group she lapsed into near silence and hardly said a word. In all her adult life she had never had a steady boyfriend.

She and Marcia worked in the same office building. On getting to know her, the older woman felt sorry for her. On hearing of the close, untimely death of her parents and knowing Marie was faced with an unsuitable boarding situation, she had offered her accommodation at her place. Here at least she had a bedroom of her own. And here she had been for four years.

Marcia had even tried to steer suitable young males in her direction but with no success whatsoever.

Marcia walked down the hallway calling, “Marie. What’s going on? Is this something to do with those police sirens up on the ridge?” She stopped outside Marie’s open door and looked in. Her eyes widened in surprise.

Marie was there alright, lying across her three-quarter bed. Wearing a stylish white blouse and a pair of tight, well fitting blue jeans. Her black hair in some disarray. And she had also been very securely bound and gagged.

A white sheet had been torn into neat neat wide strips to do this. Her wrists had been crossed behind her back and secured by many white loops and two reef knots. More strips had been used to lash her arms to her sides, both above and below her bust and these had been cinched several times. Another long piece had been wound around her waist anchoring her forearms. Her ankles had been lashed many times and carefully knotted. Another long wide strip had been used to bind her thighs above the knees. And finally something wet and filling had been forced into her mouth and this was held in place by a wide, firmly tied strip that covered the lower part of her face. Marie had been rendered completely helpless and the only sound she could make was to mew.

Marcia looked for some seconds at this then hurried into the room. “Marie! What’s happened here? Who tied you up like this?” She reached forward to undo some of the knots.

A man standing in the corner of the room stepped forward.

He was about Marcia’s age and height but more solidly built. He had a broad face, a square chin and a good head of thick dark hair. He wore dark grey jeans and a tightly fitting grey jacket. He even had a kindly, intellectual look about him. Marcia reflected, he at least did not look like the usual picture of a brutalised thug. He spoke.

“You’d be Marcia? The landlady, I believe?”

Marcia was not frightened. But very surprised and after another glance at the bound and gagged Marie, furiously determined to find out what was going on in her home.

“Who’re you? She demanded, “Why’ve you tied up my friend? Is this a robbery?”

He even smiled faintly. “Who I am doesn’t matter. It’s been necessary to deprive your house companion of liberty. As it will be for you too. And as to robbery. Please, nothing so crude, or unlikely.”

Marcia was insistent. “Then why’re you here? What’re you doing?”

“Let’s say I’m simply passing through. I have no designs whatsoever on your property.” The smile vanished, “And now, as mentioned, it also becomes necessary to tie you up as well.” He moved toward a chest of drawers, on which lay half of a torn white sheet.

Marcia looked at him. He was doubtless stronger and would overpower her if it came to a struggle. By now she was convinced this was not a common housebreaking. He picked up the sheet and began tearing the rest of it into strips. “This’s from your linen cupboard. One of your old ones.” He smiled, “No sense in ripping up your best sheets. “Why don’t you take off your hat and gloves and put them with your handbag here.” He indicated the chest of drawers.

She decided fighting him was not an option and placed her possessions as directed. And stood before him, expensively business suited and wearing her comfortable sensible business shoes. He continued tearing up the sheet, seemingly relieved it had not come to violence between them.

He made her stand near the bed, arms at her sides. And went ahead to tie her up as he had previously bound Marie.

First her wrists, crossed and knotted behind her back. Two strips to bind her arms to her sides, above and below her breasts, causing them to stand out sharply. Then another long length around her waist to secure her lower arms. He bound with some care, making sure none of the strips of sheet were twisted. The stiff, costly fabric of her suit whispered and rustled as her bonds were pulled tight.

He stepped back to admire his work. “Pretty as a picture. Or a neatly wrapped birthday present.” She glared at him. “And now,” he said indicating the bed and its already bound occupant, “If you’ll just sit here, we’ll complete the job by tying your feet.”

Silently, she sat down. He knelt beside her and lashed and knotted her crossed ankles. Lastly, he gently lifted her skirt, exposing her lower thighs. And, using one of the last pieces he bound these carefully, tying them just above the knees. And then replaced her skirt.

He leaned back. “There. All done. Wasn’t so bad, was it?’’ She simply looked at him. He stood up. “Well, my bound beauty. There’s just one thing more.” He tickled her under the chin, then turned and left the room.

She wondered if she should scream, then decided against it. He only seemed to be in the bathroom next door. She looked down at Marie, lying bound and helpless on the bed beside her. Who had been watching the whole proceedings with mute interest.

He returned, folding a dampened face washer into a tight wad. “There’s no need to gag me,” said Marcia “I’m not going to scream. If I’d wanted to, I’d have done so while you were in there.”

“Purely a precaution,” he murmured, forcing the pad between her lips. “I’m going to leave you ladies alone for a while. And I don’t want you changing your mind while I’m away.” Having packed it into her mouth, he secured it with a wide short strip of sheet wrapped firmly around the lower part of her face and tied at the back of her neck.

“There,” he said, stepping back and smiling at the two bound and gagged occupants of the bed. One sitting and glaring, the other lying on her side, looking up questioningly. “Now ladies, I’m going to make a call on that telephone I saw in the lounge. It’ll take about ten minutes and I'll be back. So don’t go away.” Playfully, he tweaked both their noses then turned and left the room. Marcia scowled after him.

The pair, householder and tenant companion looked at each other. They tried to talk but found they could only mew. Marcia writhed but found she was too firmly bound to loosen her bonds. Then she had an idea.

She lay down on her side with her back to Marie. Then wriggled towards her until her tied hands could touch her bound companion. She writhed still further so that her fingers reached her tenant’s bound wrists. And from there she attempted to untie the knots.

This was difficult. She had to work by feel as she could not see what she was doing. And the knots were tight and professionally done. But she persisted and actually got one undone and was working on the next when their captor finally came back.

“Oh, naughty girls,” was his comment in an affected parental tone, “Trying to untie each other indeed.” He re-tied the loosened knot and dragged Marcia away from Marie so that there was about three feet between them. “Bad girls,” he went on in this voice, “I can see I’ll have to anchor you both to something to keep you apart if I leave you alone again. Naughty, naughty.” Marcia glared at him. Besides being thwarted, she resented them being spoken to as children.

The man stood and addressed them both. “Well ladies, I’ve spoken to my people. The good news is they’re sending someone to pick me up. The bad news is they can’t get here for some hours.” He shrugged, “We’re stuck with each others' company for a while.” He thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and wandered aimlessly around Marie’s bedroom.

He stopped at her night table next to the bed and, noticing a small pile of banknotes (weekly rental for Marcia), picked them up.

Apparently, still of a jocular state of mind he pulled out his wallet and made a show of thrusting them into it.

“Just as well I’m not a common thief,” he laughed, then moved to put the notes back on the table. As he was doing this a plastic card slipped out of his opened wallet and fell downward.

He noticed this out of the corner of his eye as he put the notes neatly on the night table. Still holding his wallet, he got on his knees to look for the fallen card on the floor.

Only it had not fallen to the floor. He had not seen it come to rest on the edge of the bed, it was right side up and clearly readable. It was a driver’s licence. And it was just six inches from the tip of the bound Marcia’s nose. She could read the entire contents. And she did. And memorised them.

Meanwhile, its owner, still kneeling on the floor and not finding it there, turned and saw where it was. He snatched it away.

Things had now taken an entirely different turn. Marcia’s captor looked at her with a look of some puzzlement, no doubt wondering, had she seen anything?

With some difficulty Marcia heaved the upper part of her body upright. And then dropped her legs to the floor. She was now seated on the bed. She raised her head and looked at her captor. A series of mewing grunts indicated she wanted her gag removed. Which, after some hesitation, he did.

She spoke, “Some water, if you please.” He brought this from the bathroom, in a mug used for holding toothbrushes and held it to her mouth. She drank most of it and then told him to wipe her lips. Which he did with his own clean handkerchief. Subtly, their roles had changed and she intended to take full advantage. She began.

“You, sir, have just had a most unfortunate piece of bad luck.”

Two Ladies Satisfied · Part 1 (1/2)
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