The File

by Uto

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© Copyright 2018 - Uto - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; apartment; FM+/f; force; bond; cloth; gag; espionage; discovery; offer; M/f; sex; climax; cons; X

The scene was a comfortable apartment on the first floor of a unit block in the inner city. The unit’s lounge room faced west and in the past had a reasonable view of the city’s inner western suburbs. But during the last year a convention centre had been built across the street below just thirty metres away. The lounge now faced directly into a large picture window of a big conference room containing a single long table. This was regularly used. Immaculately suited men and women sat facing each other across the table and were clearly engrossed in what they had to say to each other. None of them looked out the window at the residence across the way.

The owner of the apartment wondered what they talked about that was so important.

This was Nancy, a single woman only recently turned forty. She was somewhat tall, slim and quite fit. Her face was smooth, oval shaped and framed by dark brown hair. She was a teacher by occupation. There had been a short, very unhappy marriage about ten years earlier in her life, now thankfully terminated. Despite this, Nancy still desired and looked for male company.

Today she was wearing a full brown skirt and a white, long sleeved blouse as she gazed out her lounge window into that of the convention centre over the street.

The big room was obviously going to be used for something important today. Staff were busily arranging carafes, glasses, note-pads and even small calculators on the surface of the table. Nancy wondered what was going to happen but soon turned away. There was some correspondence to attend to at the writing desk in her bedroom. She was turning to do this when her doorbell sounded. She went to the front door.

On opening it she found a man and a woman waiting. Nancy did not know either of them. The man looked about her age, was thin and athletic looking. He wore a zipped up jacket and grey jeans. The woman seemed younger, also had a slim figure and wore an old fashioned green belted raincoat buttoned up to the throat. She carried a shopping bag slung over one shoulder. Both wore hats, in each case pulled down in front, which had the effect of obscuring their faces. And both wore dark glasses. The householder puzzled at this. It was a bleak cold day outside, certainly not glaring sunlight.

“Yes,” she began, wondering who her callers were, “Can I help you?”

“You can indeed, Nancy,” said the woman, "You can start by letting us come in.” And with that they forced their way inside.

The woman pushed Nancy several feet back into her own lounge room. The man deftly closed and locked the front door behind them and then moved into the room until he was behind the astonished householder.

“What!” expostulated Nancy, “What do you think you’re doing? And what…” At that moment the man, now standing behind her, pinioned her arms, the woman clamped a gloved hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her. Both were wearing soft black gloves.

"Hush Nancy,” the woman spoke quietly, “We’re going to make use of your home for a while. And unfortunately it’ll be necessary to tie you up. But that needn’t be unpleasant, if you’re sensible. We’re both skilled at this so there’s no use fighting us. So why don’t you be a clever girl and let us get on with what we have to do?”

Nancy could feel the strength in the man’s arms as he held her and she knew was no match for a pair of professional criminals, as she took these two to be. “So nod your head if you’re ready to submit,” the woman went on. Difficult though it was with a strong hand over her mouth, she nodded.

“Well then,” smiled the woman, taking her hand from Nancy’s mouth. “I’ll tie up our little friend here,” she said to the man, “You go and check out this lovely apartment of hers.” And with that she steered the homeowner to a part of the room where she could not be seen through the window. Unslinging her shopping bag she put it on the nearby lounge and took out several lengths of prepared sheeting strips and began to bind the victim, her raincoat rustling as she did so.

First she crossed her wrists behind her back, wound a thick strip tightly around them and secured it with two firm knots. Next she bound her upper arms firmly around her body with a longer piece which she tightened with a cinch under each armpit. Finally, she secured her captive’s forearms to her waist with another long piece. Nancy was beginning to look like a well wrapped package. The woman bound with some care and even attempted  a certain amount of artistic neatness with her knots. Her captive reflected that even though she could hardly move a muscle in her arms she was reasonably comfortable.

Meanwhile, the man had come back. “All correct,” he reported, and to Nancy, “You keep a neat and tidy household.” She frowned at him. It may have been a compliment but after all she was being bound and would presumably be gagged in what she took to be a home invasion and robbery.

The woman indicated that she should sit down on the nearby lounge. “So I can tie your pretty legs dear,” she explained.

Nancy still felt she was the victim of a simple burglary. “Perhaps you’ve made a mistake?” she began, “Maybe come to the wrong place? There isn’t much money in the apartment and I don’t have any expensive jewellery.”

The woman smiled. “I wouldn’t be interested in your jewellery if you had any. We don’t want any of your property and we’re certainly not going to ransack your home. Nothing so crude as that.”

The woman finished tying her ankles and then bound her thighs above the knees. She stood up. Meanwhile the man was getting worried. “They should be here by now,” he said. And, as if to answer him three short knocks came at the front door. He hurried to open it.

Two women stood there. They were both in their mid thirties and wore identical grey boiler suits had matching caps which they wore pulled down low over their faces. They looked like contract cleaners. Like their colleagues already in the apartment they wore dark glasses and each carried an equipment case.

The hurried inside quickly, walked to within ten feet of the lounge window and looked towards it and at the the view of the conference room beyond. “Perfect,” said one of them.

“Perfect indeed,” said the other. Then she turned, looked at Nancy, now bound hand and foot and seated on her own lounge and said to the raincoated woman, “She can’t stay here. She’ll see everything we do. Take her into the bedroom, gag her, put her into a wardrobe and make her lie down.”

The woman stood beside the bound Nancy. “I’ll look after her in the bedroom,” she said, “You do what you have to do here. You won’t need me.” And with that she knelt and began to untie Nancy’s legs. The other nodded and the two newcomers quickly began to unpack their cases.

With her legs untied, Nancy was now mobile. The woman lifted her her feet, steered her firmly into the bedroom and carefully shut the door behind them.

Once inside, her captor relaxed. She seated Nancy on the middle of the bed began to re-tie her ankles and thighs. “I’ll make you as comfortable as possible,” she smiled. She even removed her shoes and pulled a small lambswool rug up underneath her bound feet. And, as if to explain the earlier exchange in the lounge, she went on, “We can forget about gagging you and making you lie down in a locked wardrobe. Those people out there are technicians, they rarely have anything to do with people. They don’t know how to handle them.” She a prepared, wadded gag out of the shopping bag which she had brought in with her and placed it on the bedspread beside the bound householder. “We’ll keep this here for use if necessary." 

“They’re technicians?” Nancy was bemused. “And you say you aren’t going to take any of my things? Then why have you come here?”

The woman stood up, thrust with hands into her raincoat pockets, walked a few steps around the room, then sat down on the bed beside Nancy. The waterproof rustled as she did so.

She explained, “We don’t want anything from you. It’s the use of your apartment for a couple of hours that we need.” She elaborated. “There’s going to be a very important meeting held in the convention centre across the way this morning. The information  discussed, knowledge of decisions made will be worth millions, not only in this country, but internationally. And a certain organisation wants to know about it.” She went on. “The room has been bugged by a very sophisticated recording, transmitting device. But the signals can only be picked up within a radius of fifty metres. And certain people want photographic evidence of who was at the gathering itself. This could be obtained by a very advanced telescopic camera through the window of a conveniently placed adjoining building. Such as yours.”

The woman looked carefully at Nancy. “And so perhaps you see why it’s very necessary to occupy your home for a couple of hours this morning. And though this may be a home invasion there won’t be any damage done to your apartment. Maybe some of your lounge furniture moved slightly.”

Nancy took all of this in. Finally she said, “And while all this is going on I’m to be tied up, possibly gagged and held captive as if this was  a break-in and a robbery?”       

“Only you won’t be robbed, and if you’re sensible you won’t harmed at all.”  The woman’s face became serious. “I might point out to you there is a very important organisation and some very powerful people are involved here. Get on the wrong side of them, such as by giving a too detailed description as to what happened here today and you’ll simply disappear as if you’d never existed. I hope I make myself clear.”

Nancy was beginning to see this quite clearly. She reflected on her situation. So far she had been overpowered, bound hand and foot and held captive. And was likely to be held so for some time. But in truth she had not been harmed. She decided to try and establish some sort of rapport with this woman who seemed not only approachable but even friendly.

The two women continued to sit side by side on the bed. Nancy, securely tied up, her arms bound behind her and with a prepared gag between them. The woman looked around the bedroom which was quite simply furnished. In one corner was small desk on which lay a single brown manilla folder. She looked at this thoughtfully for a while and then, turning the companion at her side, said. “Well Nancy, you and I are going to be together in each other’s company for an hour or two yet. We can have a little intimate girl talk.” Nancy looked at her.

She looked around and went on. “This is a nice apartment. And you’ve been here about ten years now haven’t you? Ever since your marriage broke up? It didn’t last very long, did it?” Nancy gaped. How did she know all this?

Her seated captor continued, “And you’re a teacher.” She smiled, “Long ago I wanted to be a teacher but got into other things instead. There are still times when I wish I had been one.” She laughed, “But I don’t suppose I’d have made as much money. The organisation pays very well.” Nancy was already impressed by the amount of information this organisation of hers had found out about herself. It was obviously very efficient. And international rather than national, she'd said? She wondered what it represented.

Meanwhile, the woman was still digressing about Nancy’s personal situation. “And you're teaching at the local Burbank Primary. Quite highly rated there it seems. But what about your personal life? Relationships with the opposite sex? Somewhat limited I would think? And yet,” she smiled,”You want a companion, don’t you?"  Nancy bristled at this. What business was it of hers? At the same time a small voice whispered in the back of her mind it was only too true. Her social life was virtually non existent.

The woman’s gaze continued to rove around the room. It finally settled again on the desk and the single manilla file it held. “What’s that?” she demanded.

Nancy would rather that question had never been asked. For some years now she had been corresponding with the lonely hearts columns of local and even state wide newspapers. With practically no success whatsoever. That brown manilla file, about eight centimetres thick by now, contained all of the paperwork this had generated. The woman asked again, “That file. What is it?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Some personal stuff, nothing important.” The woman turned sideways with a look of disbelief, then got up from the bed, her raincoat whispering softly. She walked over to the desk.

“It’s just a personal file,” called Nancy anxiously. The woman stopped, turned and faced her.

“You’ve been using the personal columns in the local papers, haven’t you?” Her powers of perception were amazing. “And that file is the end result, isn’t it?” Nancy was dumbfounded. She said nothing. “Well, I’m not nosey enough to look through the lot of it. I daresay most of it’s very sad reading indeed. But to get an idea, I’ll simply scan the first document.” And with that she turned, opened the file, picked up the top letter and began to read it. This was the communication Nancy had been on her way to reply to before the invaders had arrived.

The woman finished the letter quickly, replaced it and closed the file. She turned and looked at Nancy.

She spoke firmly. “Can’t you see what this guy’s trying to do? All of those veiled questions about your ‘personal comfort situation’ as he calls it? He’s trying to find out how much money you’ve got! And if he thinks there’s enough, he’ll try and marry you for it. The bastard’s nothing but a fortune hunter! Tell him to go to blazes. Better still, don’t reply to him at all.”

Nancy was mutely silent. She had had this letter for over a week, wondering how she might answer it. After much tortuous thought she had finally, tentatively arrived at much the same conclusion herself. Yet this woman had seen through the man in minutes.

She turned aside, but still went on about the letter writer. “He says he’s in his early fifties. He’s probably lying. Which means he’s nearing the end of his working life and doubtless has nothing to show for it. In other words - a loser. Sounds as if he lives in rented accommodation. Which doesn’t say much for a near lifetime of effort. And now he’s worried about how he’ll spend his final years. So he’s looking for a comfortably off widow or divorcee. In the personal columns. Believe me, that’s what they do.”

Nancy had nothing to say for the moment. She wondered how much of this was true and decided most of it probably was. Yet to hear it all stated so bluntly was almost refreshing.

The woman turned abruptly and walked a few steps around the room, her waterproof rustling. "Nancy, Nancy, what’ve you come to? Dealing with characters like these. You don’t have to.”  Then she was silent for a few moments, as was her listener.

Finally she stopped, regained her composure, walked over and stood in front of the bound Nancy.

“Alright. I forgot myself,” this more calmly, “But the question’s still there. What is to be done to help you?” She looked firmly at her securely bound captive and asked, “How long is it since you’ve had a good, rewarding, satisfying fuck?”

Nancy said nothing. Firstly, she was stunned at the sheer bluntness of the question. And secondly she would have been embarrassed to have answered truthfully. The reality being she had not had a satisfactory love experience in over two years now.

“Not for years, I’d say.” Her questioner continued. “Look at yourself. You’re just forty. That’s not old. You’re quite reasonably attractive, slim and fit. You’ve had a good education and you're intelligent. From what we’ve been able to find out about you, you’re a pleasant person. Got a good job, own your own home and live at a good address. Why can’t you find decent male companionship instead of worthless non-achievers like these?” She gestured at the file. Nancy hadn’t heard herself spoken of so favourably in years.

“Do you have any local interests? Places where you might make a few social contacts?”

“Well,” said Nancy, “I belong to the local library. And they have a poetry group I attend.” She said this last hesitatingly, fully expecting the woman, obviously more worldly wise than she was, to snort ‘Poetry indeed. You won’t meet a male companion there.’

Instead, she looked thoughtful. "Now that’s a coincidence. My male partner in today's project,” she nodded towards the door, “The one who’s out there now handing items to the those two techs that they could quite easily get for themselves. He’s got quite an interest in verse. Always has. We’re not lovers I might add, though we’ve known each other for years. Management simply paired us together for this job.”

She smiled at Nancy as an idea slowly began to take form. “As mentioned, we’re not lovers. Though we have indulged in the distant past. And that’s how I know him to be a good performer. Accomplished, kind and gentle.” Her smile deepened. “Here's a chance to cater for your long denied sexual needs. It would be handled, discreetly, privately and, I repeat, highly professionally. You could, if questioned, say you were forced, after all, you’re already tied up. That’s if you want to report it at all. Everything would be done in such privacy, it’d be as if nothing had ever occurred.” She looked expectantly at Nancy. 

Nancy’s mind was racing. She realised this unexpected new episode in her life which had begun when she had opened her door to these two earlier today would end eventually. The four would finish their information gathering mission in her home. Then they'd go on their way and she’d never see any of them again. She’d go back to her solitary existence.

She appreciated that she’d not been harmed. Merely, very considerately tied up but not hurt in any way. Nor had there been any harm to her property. How she’d be left when they went she didn’t know. Bound and gagged or simply anaesthetised perhaps. It all sounded quite painless. She wondered if she’d have to report what had happened to her. Quite possibly those people in the convention centre would never know they’d been spied upon.

And now she’d been offered an opportunity for a discreet love experience. The woman was standing there smiling with an inquiring look on her face. She knew a chance like this would never come again for her for a long time.

“All right,” she said quietly.

The woman nodded. “I’ll go and speak to him. But he’ll agree. When I explain things. And there’s plenty of time. They’ll be recording out there for the next couple of hours or so. But I’d better gag you, you see I might be gone for some time.”

Nancy looked askance at this but the woman said, “In the future you might be asked ‘Why didn’t you scream when you had the chance?’” She fitted the gag, tied it securely, playfully pinched the captive on the cheek and then left, leaving her sitting bound and gagged on her own bed in her own bedroom.

Nearly fifteen minutes went by. Nancy began to fret.

At last the bedroom door opened. The woman’s male companion came in. He seemed hesitant and even looked shy. He crossed the room and quickly removed Nancy’s gag. “Well Nancy,” he began tentatively, “How do you feel about this?”

Nancy by now had risen to the occasion. She was by now feeling that this opportunity, if not taken at the full, might be lost forever. She spoke.

“I’ve been kept waiting nearly a quarter of an hour, I’ve become very moist and I’m very impatient. Do something.”

The man, whatever else, was sensible and understanding. “Very well, as you wish, I will do something.” A quick kiss on Nancy’s pulsating mouth and then he knelt and removed the bonds on her ankles and thighs. Next he pulled her upright and undid the clasp and zipper of her brown skirt and let it fall to her ankles. Her knickers followed, pulled down and allowed to fall also. Her footwear had already been removed when the woman tied her in the first place. He picked the small lambswool rug that had been placed under her feet, put it in the middle of the bed then gently but firmly forced her to lie down so that her bottom was squarely in the middle of it. By now highly expectant, Nancy began to moan softly.

Slipping off his shoes and undoing his belt he climbed onto the bed beside her and began to deftly massage her vaginal orifice. With his other hand he began to fumble with some of the knots of her other bindings. “Leave that,” she whispered with her eyes closed, “I’m not uncomfortable. We'll continue with the myth that this is being done against my will.” And the moaning began again. By now her private parts were very moist indeed.

Smoothly, comfortably he eased himself on top of her and easily and delightfully entered her. Nancy moaned with ecstatic pleasure. This was a moment she had longed for more time than she cared to remember.

The next ten minutes were pure heaven. The man did his duty nobly and Nancy strained and heaved with all of her heart and soul and every sinew in her body. The bonds restraining her arms only served to make the muscles in her legs more active. Months, years of frustration went into her efforts.

At last it was over. Nancy lay motionless, mute and silent for long after the event. So long that her partner asked with concern, "Are you alright?”

No answer. Again he asked, “Are you OK?”

Finally Nancy, her eyes closed, breathed, “I had two orgasms, one after the other. I’ve never done that before in my life.”

Her companion was gratified. “Well then. I’m pleased. Very pleased to have been of service.”

Nancy seemed not to have heard, her eyes were still closed. “And I’d like another one. This time with my arms untied. So that I can respond to you properly.”

“Oh.” There was surprise in his voice. "Well look, ah I’m not entirely”

“I said I wanted another one. I'll not be denied. And I think you're a pretty strong boy.”

“Well then. Of course. I’ll just have to rise to the occasion, won’t I?” He began to fumble with the cloth strips binding her body.

Well over half an hour later the pair lay naked and without moving on Nancy’s bed. Both were silent and satiated. And content. The man opened his eyes, looked up and saw his lady partner standing beside the bed. Still wearing her raincoat, she was putting a camera back inside its case.

“Hey?” he asked, “What’ve you been doing?”

She smiled, “Just recorded your efforts for posterity. Your little friend there might be less inclined to report today’s happenings in detail if there was a photographic record that might be made public.”

“Now look here…” he began.

Nancy spoke for the first time. Without opening her eyes she whispered softly. “Oh, it’s alright. I’d like a souvenir picture of today. In colour please.” She smiled dreamily. The woman looked at her.

Fully an hour later Nancy and her companion were still in the bedroom only both were fully dressed by now. And both were sitting side by side on the bed. He was lacing up his shoes, she was smoothing the pleats in her skirt. The rain coated woman was missing. Nancy reflected amusedly that perhaps this was inappropriate. After all, she was the one who had brought them together. The man stood up and looked at her, then spoke a few lines of verse from a poem that only a poet would know. She smiled up at him and recited the following lines in full. It was a love poem. Poets have their own forms of communication, just like couples. Perhaps they tend to be more romantic.

At that moment the door opened and the two boiler suited women came in. Still wearing their caps and dark glasses, it seemed they had done an excellent job of recording the very secret meeting in the building opposite. And had made some good photographs of the people who had been present. It appeared some important people would be pleased with the information collected from Nancy’s apartment today.

This they passed on to Nancy’s companion. And to the householder herself one of them said, “There’s been no damage whatsoever to your home. We didn’t even have to move the furniture.” Nancy nodded her acknowledgement. "Oh, we know you’ve been tied up, gagged and held against your will but we also understand you’ve had a certain amount of pleasure as well." She smiled. Nancy nodded again.

The woman went on. “And so Madam, it would be appreciated if you said nothing about what’s happened here today. Otherwise, you might just suddenly disappear. Perhaps to turn up in some remote part of the Middle East or Latin America. There are plenty of local magnates in those places who’d pay handsomely to have you a mature trained woman like you as part of their household, and available for their pleasure. We’d do very well out of you.” Nancy responded with an acknowledging glance. At the back of her mind there was faint twinge of pride that someone like herself was of value. 

The boiler suited woman went on. “We’ll be on our way shortly, once we get our gear packed up.” They turned towards the door. With a final word to Nancy, “Bear in mind what we said darling. Otherwise you might end up bound and gagged on a one way trip to another continent.” The response was a look that indicated the message had been received and understood. With that they left the room.

“Well then,” the man began, “I don’t think you need worry. Just go back to being what you were before. Only you needn’t worry about those columns in the local rag. Just keep on with the local library and its poetry meetings.”

Nancy spoke up for the first time. “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? You’ve been to some of those meetings yourself. I thought I recognised you.”

“Perhaps you have,” he said, “I wondered if you’d remember. And you might also recall there’s a meeting next week about the Afridi poet Kelshar. Perhaps we’ll see each other there?”

“Perhaps we will.”

They both looked at each other.


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