It was early evening of a bleak winter day. Edith was sitting at her work table in the lounge of her small but comfortable cottage in middle class suburbia.
She was thirty six, thin and spare with a somewhat narrow face, a pointed chin framed by short brown hair. Tonight she was wearing a plain skirt with a soft white blouse. She was a librarian by occupation, wore glasses and looked exactly how she could perhaps be described. A single lady, living alone and drifting towards middle aged spinsterhood. She had few interests, other than reading and was not sporting or particularly social in any way. The pub/club scene left her cold.
However, she was known as a pleasant, agreeable person and, to give her her due, had sought partnership before. Twice in earlier years, she had been engaged but both times it had been broken off. In each case it had seemed it might not work in the long run. She was a sensible, practical woman who had standards.
Now she relied on the personal columns of newspapers for social contacts. Of recent years she had met many social misfits and a few opportunists who thought she was a wealthy widow or divorcee. It had been dispiriting but she she had persisted. It was far from successful and she had not had a sexual experience in years. But for her, there was literally nothing else. And so tonight she was doing what had become routine for her.
She was seated at the desk at one side of her lounge/ dining room preparing an advertisement to go in the Personal Relations columns of a local paper. On the desktop was her typewriter, a thick manilla folder containing all the paperwork of her personal social contacts for years, none of it very successful and a folded copy of the local district newspaper in which her completed ad would appear.
It followed what had become the usual format. "Lady, mid thirties......intellectual tastes, enjoys cinema, theatre....... wishes to meet male companion of similar turn of mind." She balked at the phrase "view matrimony." Sometimes she wondered if she should include what she did for a living but decided against it. That could come later if the situation developed. So far it never had.
She had almost finished typing this up when something happened which would change her life completely.
A faint sound was heard, the side door had just clicked shut. Someone had entered Edith's house. She was at once concerned but not overly frightened. She was not a coward. Break ins and home invasions were not common in this neighbourhood and there was literally nothing worth taking here. Be calm, she thought, very calm and they'd go away when they learned that. Apprehensively, but not terrified she stood up.
"Who's there?" she called. Soft footsteps along the passageway leading to the lounge room door. "Who's there?" she called again. "Who are you?"
A woman appeared in the lounge room doorway. Perhaps somewhat older than Edith, slightly shorter and solider, and she looked fit and active. She wore a tightly belted grey overcoat, a close fitting dark hat and dark glasses. A scarf had been wound several times around her head, completely hiding her face. She had a cloth shopping bag slung over one shoulder.
"Good evening Edith," she began quietly, "Sorry to intrude but I have little business here tonight. But I'll get on with it and then I'll be on my way and leave you in peace."
"What? What is this? A robbery?" said Edith incredulously, "And how do you know my name? Anyway I don't have any jewellery or valuables to speak of. There's only my housekeeping money. There's nothing of value here. You've obviously come to the wrong place."
"Let me be the judge of that Edith." It could almost be assumed she was smiling underneath the folded scarf. "But right now it becomes necessary to tie you up. Perhaps to this chair you've been sitting on. I looks solid and firm and it's got a soft padded seat so you'll be comfortable."
"That's quite unnecessary," said Edith, "And what's more..." But the woman moved forward, taking her by the arm forced her to sit down in the chair she had got up from only a moment before. At once she could feel the visitor was very much stronger than herself. The intruder put her shopping bag on the desk and took out some strips of cloth. She was wearing black leather gloves.
"Just be calm, relax and you'll feel better," came the advice. The woman knelt, crossed Edith's wrists behind the back of the chair and bound them securely with two of the strips. Next she lashed her upper ams to the side supports of the chair back. Another strip was looped several times around her slim waist and tied to a cross bar. Then a longer strip was wound around and around her thighs and under the chair seat. Finally her ankles were lashed securely to the lower parts of the front chair legs.
"Well now," said the woman straightening up and surveying her handiwork, "That should hold you. Just one thing more Edith. A gag for your pretty mouth." She reached inside her bag.
"You don't have to do that," protested her captive, "I'm not the hysterical type. I won't scream. I'll be quiet while you're here."
"I'm sure you will," once again it could be assumed the woman was smiling under her mask, "It's what you'll do when I'm not here that concerns me." By now she had a prepared gag, a damp pad tied in the middle of a narrow cloth strip, in her hand. "Open wide please."
"Please. It's not necessary. I...mffff..." Whatever Edith might have said was lost as the gag was forced into her mouth and then tied firmly at the back of her head.
"There,"said the woman stepping back and looking at the bound librarian, "You look like a neatly wrapped package. Just relax. Don't struggle. It'd be a waste of time anyway. And now, to business." She picked up her shopping bag and looked around.
Business, it seemed was quite simple. She walked to a small table on the other side of the room on which stood a porcelain statuette of Asian origin about forty centimetres high that Edith had never given much thought to. She picked it up, examined it critically, then carefully wrapped it in a soft cloth from her bag and stowed it away. The bound and gagged Edith watched this with some puzzlement. Was that what she'd come here for?
Edith did not realize what was really happening. This statuette had come to her two years ago, inherited from an elderly uncle who had been a world renowned collector of oriental art. On his death his collection, worth millions, had gone to museums. His family had only received a few items, thought to be quite valueless. However, this item, which came to her, had somehow slipped through the net.
In reality it was over five hundred years old, the work of an historically recognized artist and worth tens of thousands. Edith was quite unaware of this.
But a less than scrupulous collector was not. And he had arranged for it to be stolen to order. Hence the reason for Edith's visitation this night. And her being tied up in her own lounge room.
"Well then," said the woman, "That's that." She seemed pleased the whole operation had gone so smoothly and successfully and stroked her captive's cheek playfully with a gloved hand. "Time for me to go. I'll arrange for you to be released." Just how, she didn't say. "But first I'll check your bonds." This was unfortunate for Edith. While her captor had been wrapping the statuette she had been quietly straining at her lashings and had loosened one of her ankle bindings. The woman saw this, "Oh, you naughty girl." Clearly, she was in a good mood, "Now I'll just have to re-tie that." She knelt to do so.
As she did this, her eyes, level with the desk top, noticed the just typed message. Which she read in full as she re-bound Edith's foot.
"So," she said, straightening up, "You're into the Lonely Hearts columns?" She picked up the manilla folder which contained all of Edith's correspondence in this field for the last two years. Its owner grunted and mewed her disapproval but the tight and efficiently tied gag prevented her from saying a word. The woman ignored her and studied the file carefully, particularly the recent additions. She read for some minutes and then put it back where she had found it. "You haven't been very successful, have you?" was her comment, "Social failures, ner-do-wells and some obvious fortune hunters. No one to suit a woman like yourself." The compiler of the file glared at her but did not attempt to make any sound. Sadly, what she had said was the truth.
"Well," the woman continued, turning away slightly, "There are other ways you know." She turned back. "But I suppose you're not the girl to try them, are you? I'll bet you haven't had a fuck in years." Edith winced at the language but once again, it was all so sadly true. "Possibly I could help you, but meanwhile," a mischievous lilt crept into her voice, "There's something I can do for you now. After all, this business has gone extremely well. You've been very co-operative." She removed one of her black leather gloves.
Kneeling again beside the chair she undid the binding holding her captive's thighs to the seat and then peeled back the top of her skirt, exposing her underwear. Edith strained and mewed into her gag but could not say a word. She writhed and heaved but the other bonds held her fast. The woman laughed softly, "Take it easy darling. I'm only going to masturbate you. Which I suspect you do yourself on occasion. So just relax and enjoy yourself while I do it. You'll find me quite skilled."
Edith felt far from relaxed but there was nothing she could do to stop her captor. Who went straight to work. She pulled down her knickers, exposing her vaginal orifice and then began to deftly caress it. And skilled indeed she was. Within short minutes she had Edith moistening and twitching and, in spite of herself, she began to respond. Her eyes closed, her head arched back and, though firmly gagged, she started to grunt ecstatically. "That's right darling," murmured her mentor, "Just let it go and enjoy it." And let it go she had to. Within several minutes she ejaculated violently, straining and shuddering against her bonds, which were barely able to hold her. Her moan of pleasure would have been heard out in the street, but for the gag in her mouth.
"That must surely have been a relief," mused the woman, still continuing her manipulative caresses for some minutes after the climax. Edith simply lay limp and flaccid. Finally she stopped, readjusted her captive's skirt and re-tied her thighs to the seat of the chair. "I trust it's pleased you," she said standing up. She replaced her black glove, quickly checked her captive's bonds, picked up her shopping bag and made ready to go.
"Time for me to be on my way," she pronounced. "I'll see to it that someone comes and unties you." And then she was gone. Edith lay motionless with her eyes closed.
About an hour later the police came, let themselves in through the unlocked front door and untied her. They said they'd had an anonymous phone call, saying there had been a robbery at this address and that a woman had been left bound and gagged. They checked she was alright and asked if she needed to go to a hospital for a medical examination. She declined, they then did an investigation, asked questions and made notes. She told everything, except how she had been teased to orgasm. They said it seemed like a theft to order and were not confident the item would be easily recovered. They also asked if she wanted to go somewhere or needed someone to come and stay with her. Again she declined. After a couple of hours they left, saying they would look into the matter. Edith, by now very tired, went to bed.
Eight days later on a wet evening, Edith was coming home late after having seen a film. The police had been to see her twice since the robbery and seemed to think there was little chance of getting the statuette back. She resolved not to worry about the loss of something, the value of which she had never known anyway. Indeed she still really did not know what she had lost. There was no record anywhere of its real worth. Very sensibly, she had decided to put whole affair behind her and get on with her life.
She had been to the cinema on her own, as usual. The film had not been outstanding but had filled in the evening. It had been raining slightly when she set out and she had worn an old grey raincoat but it had now stopped.
She left her local railway station, walked across a reassuringly well lit public park towards her own street. It was a cul-de-sac which ended at the far side of the park. There was a small grove of trees right at the end of the street and here she noticed something odd. An unmarked tradesman's was parked there, almost completely in the shadow of the trees. Surely, she thought, no tradesman would be working at this hour. The number plate, illuminated faintly by a street light, attracted her attention. The three numbers were by coincidence the date and month of her sister's birthday. The three beginning letters were ABO. 'All bets off,' she mused. Not that she was interested in racing.
She walked on, up her street, it did not occur to her she had unthinkingly memorised the identification of this unusually parked vehicle.
Reaching her home she went to her front door. The porch was dark and shadowy, due to several trees in her front yard. She took the keys from her raincoat pocket and opened the door. And then it happened.
A gloved hand was clamped over her mouth and a firm arm encircled her forearms and clamped them close to her body. She was being overpowered from behind. She struggled but her assailant, presumably a man, was too strong for her. "Good evening Edith," whispered 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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