Geraldine was a social worker, aged forty one. A tall solidly built woman, fit active and capable. With a square, usually pleasant face framed by straight brown hair. She was a purposeful, no-nonsense sort of person. Her work took her out most of the day, regularly seeing people which her employer, a government health authority, felt needed frequent visits, consolation and counseling where required. Her casebook was quite extensive but she managed it successfully and was considered very good at her job. And she enjoyed it.
Today her work load had brought her to the apartment unit of Emma Stall in an upper class residential area. Emma was slightly older than her caseworker, not so tall but somewhat solider, her face less pleasant and her fair hair longer. Ten years ago her husband had deserted her, never to return and his whereabouts were unknown. Emma had had a breakdown of sorts and was now considered, by those in authority, to be in need constant monitoring and regular visits. And so she became one of Geraldine's cases. She had been keeping an eye on her for nearly two years now. Privately, she thought that Emma was an attention seeking malingerer, nowhere near as bad as she made out to be, and what she really needed was regular attention from a lusty vigorous male. But the powers that be had decided otherwise and so here she was.
On entering she was surprized to see Emma beaming and smiling. Usually she was unhappy and sometimes depressed. "There was a drama here the other day," her client began cheerfully, "In this building, on this floor. Guess what happened." Geraldine had no idea but assumed she was about to find out in detail.
And find out she did. It seemed there had been a home invasion and robbery in the unit next door to Emma's just forty eight hours before.
This was occupied by two lady high school teachers, both in their mid thirties. Quiet, slim, professional ladies who got on well together and shared a rented unit to defray costs. Emma had hardly anything to do with them before. Now it appeared she had come to know them very well indeed.
The invaders had been a man and two young women, all in their early twenties. Brash, clumsy amateurs, probably looking for money for drugs. The police said that professional criminals would never have targeted female teachers like themselves. If only because they were unlikely to have anything worth taking. The whole operation had been quite simple. One of the lady occupants had answered the doorbell and all three had forced their way inside. The two girls had overpowered the pair and the young man had found an old tablecloth in the linen cupboard, which he had torn into strips.
Then the stronger of lady assailants had held one of the older women tightly with a hand firmly clamped over her mouth while her accomplices tied up the other. They had lashed her crossed wrists behind her back and then bound her arms to her sides. The young male had been careful enough, even polite in manner but his two partners in crime had been far less considerate. As the binding of the two proceeded they had been vigorously firm, even rough and had referred to their hapless victims as "silly old bags" throughout, though there was probably little more than ten years between them.
The two teachers had been frightened at first but this had subsided when they saw they were only going to be bound and possibly gagged, not beaten up or sexually assaulted. Eventually they stood, somewhat uneasily, in the centre of the lounge room, their hands tied behind their backs and their legs tied at both ankles and above the knees.
Their captor's hands were removed from their mouths and they were in a position to speak. By now they could see their assailants were youthful adolescents, not much older than the students they taught in class, on the lookout for easy pickings. Hesitatingly at first, they pointed out that there was little of much value in the whole unit and that a mistake must have been made. And so, why didn't they just go and leave them alone. Oddly, the boy seemed to think this too. He seemed to have little enthusiasm for the whole operation.
But so not his two lady companions. They gave the impression they had had problems all through their school years (only a short time back) and were not going to put up with any lectures now. Brusquely, they stated it was time for their two victims to be gagged, they were talking far too much it seemed. Something no doubt they themselves had been reprimanded for many times in the not so distant past. And so, two hand washers were found in the bathroom, dampened, folded and placed in their owner's mouths. Strips of the torn tablecloth were used to hold them in place. The two teachers were now standing, tightly bound and securely gagged in the middle of their own lounge room.
The two girls had then unceremoniously pushed them down onto the lounge and then began to search the place for valuables. Predictably, as their captives had told them, there was little to be found. Finally, taking what small pickings they had been able to find, they went, leaving the unit front door closed but unlocked.
The bound and gagged pair, on making sure that their tormentors had gone, had taken stock of their situation. They were securely tied up on their own lounge but otherwise unharmed. Their first task was to get free and get help. This was not easy. Novice criminals though the trio may have been, they had certainly known how to tie knots. After several fruitless attempts to untie their bonds they gave up. One had slipped off the lounge, rolled and writhed across the floor and shaking off her shoes, had begun beating against the dividing unit wall with her bare feet.
And this was where Emma had come in. In the room on the other side of the wall she had noticed the pounding at once. Sensing something was wrong, she had, after some hesitation, gone out into the hallway. Tentatively, she had opened her neighbours' unlocked door, peered inside and then cautiously entered. And so was the first to arrive on the crime scene.
She had some trouble with the securely tied knots too, but eventually the bound pair were released and the police finally called. Emma was the hero of the hour.
Geraldine listened to this very detailed account with interest. "Were they hurt in any way?" she asked.
"Oh no," she was assured, "Afterwards they were both taken to the Base Hospital for a routine checkup. But they were back within an hour. Even though those strips around their thighs were particularly tight. They...."
At this stage Geraldine interrupted and said it was time to get back to business. Having heard the story, she still had her own interview to do, questions to ask and a brief report to make out. This she did with some difficulty, Emma kept harking back to the bondage details of this home invasion of two days ago. At last she completed it and finally left thinking how this incident had changed the woman she had come to see. Usually she was moody, talkative only about her own problems, real and imaginary. Today she was bright, even vivacious. If only her talk had been about something else besides wrist bindings and knotted gags.
It was over a week before it was time to visit Emma again. And, as during the last visit, she was bright and on the ball. No trace of her usual moodiness. Repeatedly she talked of the way her neighbours had been tied up. Finally Geraldine asked, "You sound as if you've talked to them a lot. Have you been in to see them again?" And it turned out her case subject had been back to see them every day. Sometimes twice a day.
Privately, Geraldine thought that the two teachers must be getting tired of her by now. She finished her routine interview with some difficulty and then went out. At this stage she was thinking that Emma actually sounded as if she wished she had been the one who had been attacked, tied up and robbed. She wondered what she should do.
She closed the apartment door and walked down the hall. As she neared the next unit door it opened and a woman came out, paused and looked at her. It occurred to Geraldine that this must be one of the two lady victims. She was slim, spare, neatly dressed with brown hair in a page boy haircut and a pleasant look about her. The woman stopped, smiled and then spoke.
"Good morning," she began politely, and then. "You're Mrs Stall's carer, aren't you?"
"I visit her officially from time to time," Geraldine said cautiously, not wanting to reveal too much, "To see how she's getting on."
The woman had more to say. "Well, I wish you'd talk to her. As you probably know, my friend and I were robbed a while back. Left bound and gagged. Mrs Stall found us and untied us. For which, of course, we're grateful."
"I know," said Geraldine, adding somewhat wryly, "I've been hearing about it."
"That's what I mean," said the woman, seizing on this. "She's been back every day ever since. Asking all sorts of questions about how we were tied up." She paused and then went on. "As far as we're concerned, it’s over. We want to forget it and get on with our lives. Not be constantly asked what it felt like to have our wrists bound or gags thrust into our mouths. I wish you'd tell her to leave us alone."
Geraldine nodded sympathetically. "I've been hearing about it in detail myself." She went on. "Well, I'll talk to her about it. As soon as possible."
The woman smiled radiantly. "Oh would you? Well thank you very much. My friend and I would really appreciate it." Beaming, she turned and walked off down the hall, leaving Geraldine standing lost in thought. She had not liked to tell the woman her next meeting with Emma was nearly a fortnight away. Again she wondered what she really should do.
It was six o'clock in the evening of the same day and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Rain had set in. Geraldine had returned to Emma's apartment building and was walking along the hall to her unit, though she was not officially expected for another two weeks. She had dressed for the weather and was wearing a thick, belted raincoat that swished as she walked. She had a satchel with a long strap slung over one shoulder. And she was not alone.
Walking with her was Allan, who, years before, had been one of her cases. Though no longer on her books, the two had remained acquaintances, she had helped him on one or two occasions and had actually kept him out of jail recently.
He was a thin slight man, a little shorter than Geraldine and was about the same age. He had a narrow face, a full head of dark hair and a serious expression. He wore jeans and was also dressed for bad weather, wearing a rain spattered nylon raincoat.
Emma answered the door in response to their ring and was surprised to see them. "Good evening Emma," said Geraldine in a firm businesslike manner. "I know this isn't a scheduled visit but I think you will benefit from it. This, by the way, is Allan. He is assisting me tonight." Allan nodded his head. He looked apprehensive about this whole business. "And now, we'll come in, if you don't mind." It didn't matter if she minded or not, Geraldine simply pushed her way in, dragging her companion with her. He, possibly acting under orders, closed and locked the door after them.
"Now then," she continued, "Let's not waste any time." Turning to Emma, whom she noticed was was not smiling as she had been during her last two calls, she asked, "Firstly, have you been to see those two next door since my call this morning?"
Emma, already glum, looked even glummer, "I was in there this afternoon. They practically threw me out. Told me to leave them alone. All I wanted to do was ask..."
Geraldine, laughing, cut her short, "I'm not surprised. They're sick of your questions about their bondage experience. So you can leave them in peace and not bother them again." Emma scowled at this.
"Instead, I've decided your case needs a little therapy. And that's where Allan comes in." Emma looked blankly at her, then at her companion and then back to Geraldine.
By way of explanation the social worker went on. "Some years back he had a brief and unsuccessful career as a thief. He's over that now, but for a time he was one of my cases. That's how we got to know each other." Emma still stared, wondering where this was leading.
"During one of his housebreaking efforts, he found it necessary to bind and gag two ladies." At this Emma's eyes swivelled to Allan. He bowed his head briefly in response. "And though he was hopeless as a criminal in general, that was one thing he was good at. That's why he's here tonight. Perhaps we can use his expertise?"
Emma kept her gaze firmly on Allan. "And since you have shown such a passion for the bound female body," Geraldine continued, "It seems highly likely you would like it yourself. Am I right?" The subject of her question did not answer. Her eyes widened and her lips began to moisten. She simply stared at this reputed expert in bondage.
"Well?" asked Geraldine, "How do you feel about it?" Emma still did not reply. Then her head moved forward in the faintest of nods. "Am I to take that as a 'yes'?," her case worker persisted.
"Yes," breathed Emma, almost inaudibly, and then more loudly, "Yes."
"Very well then. Let's get on with it." Geraldine moved across the room to Emma's dining table, taking her firmly by the arm and forcing her along as well. She put the shoulder satchel on it, and opened it.
In it were some short lengths of soft white rope. "You, my dear, just stand here and prepare to be deprived of liberty. Alright Allan, take off that raincoat and get busy."
Allan removed the nylon waterproof but was hesitant. "Gerry," he began, "I don't think....."
"That's right," snapped Geraldine, "Don't think. Just tie her up."
Emma meanwhile, after a long look at Allan, turned around and crossed her hands behind her back. Her eyes started to close. "See," said her caseworker, more softly, "She wants you to start. Now, get to work."
Allan said no more. With one of the ropes he bound her crossed wrists firmly but not uncomfortably. Next with a longer length he bound her arms to her sides, looping the rope several times and cinching it under the armpits. Lastly, he tied her around the waist, securing her already bound forearms against her lower back. Emma, her eyes tightly closed now, was staring to breathe heavily.
Geraldine watched this, occasionally testing the security of the bonds. She extended a black gloved hand and gently stroked the bondage victim's cheek. Emma raised her head, kept her eyes shut and her breathing became more audible.
Allan had taken up another piece of rope when he saw that Geraldine had pulled off one of her gloves and slipped her hand inside the loose waistband of their captive's skirt. Groping downward she commented, "This little lady's getting moist. Very moist indeed. I thought she might." Emma began to moan softly as she was gently but firmly caressed.
Her male captor was nonplussed. "I was going to tie her ankles. Shall I do it?"
"I think not," said Geraldine calmly, "In fact, it's time we adjourned to the boudoir. But before we do you can tie a large blindfold over those already tightly closed eyes." Allan did this with a thick black sash from the satchel. This done, the two marched the very much aroused unit owner into her bedroom.
Standing her beside her own bed, Geraldine unclasped and unzipped Emma's skirt. She pulled it and her underwear down together, forced her to step out of both and removed her shoes as well. "Now darling," she murmured, "You just sit down on your own little bed. Just let me arrange this pillow under your ample bottom so you'll be comfortable. And then we'll arrange what you've been waiting for a very long time." She turned and looked over her shoulder to Allan. "You sir, can get your trousers and shoes off and get ready." Allan, clearly not one of the most forceful of men, looked hesitant. He was told, "Don't waste time. Just do it." He did it.
Emma was comfortably settled on her own bed. By now she was writhing and shuddering, obviously begging to be penetrated and taken forcefully. She did not notice the ropes which held her arms. Her legs were moving and straining. Geraldine massaged her thighs, exciting her all the more. "I don't think we need to tie your ankles darling, it'll give you more freedom to move. Allan, are you ready?" Allen, at last rising to the occasion, obviously was and so his companion stood aside to let him occupy the space between his partner-to-be's writhing legs.
His, by now, totally rigid member slid easily and gratefully into the dripping orifice which had been so long denied. His bound lover squealed with delight as he drove it home.
Geraldine stepped back smiling as the couple began to thrust at each other. Waiting only long enough to see the act begun, she coyly turned away and walked out of the bedroom. Tactfully she closed the door as she went. "Go to it, children," she whispered.
An hour later she was sitting in the lounge room reading some of Emma's literature. It was not to her taste but she was amused to see that much of it was romantic and some was even faintly erotic. Quite appropriate in view of what its owner was doing she thought. She was still wearing her heavy raincoat which she had not bothered to take off. It rustled occasionally as she moved.
The bedroom door opened and Allan and Emma came out together. Emma was unbound and Allan carried the ropes she had been tied with. He walked over to the satchel which was still on the table and carefully put them inside. Both were silent. Allan was quiet by nature. Emma's face was calm and relaxed, almost content. She looked more at peace than Geraldine had seen her in months.
"Well children," she greeted them. Using the word again, it seemed suitable, if inaccurate. "More at ease now?" Both nodded but said nothing. Allan was no talker but it was a new role for the usually talkative Emma. "Well then, might we say the remedial therapy was successful?" Silence.A long silence. And then quietly, "Yes. Yes, it was." This from Emma.
"I'm glad, really glad," smiled Geraldine, "I was sure but not entirely certain how it would go."
Emma stared and then walked over and embraced her firmly. "Thank you," she whispered in her ear.
"My pleasure," whispered Geraldine in return, "And now, before we go. I can see a drinks cabinet over there. I think a stiff celebratory drink is in order. And we have a little more talking to do.
Nearly an hour later all three were seated on the lounge, each with a glass in their hand. They had talked at some length. The consensus was that though the therapy, as they were calling it, had been very successful, there was still a long way to go. What Emma really needed was a permanent partner. Allan had performed superbly but it was not to be him. Though it was agreed he should pay visits for a while.
Rather like a man who sees a favourite prostitute from time to time but forms no permanent emotional relationship with her - only this was in reverse. Emma would get the benefit from this regular servicing.
Geraldine was, on the whole, pleased. She had always suspected what Emma really needed was frequent attention from an enthusiastic and vigorous partner. The immediate problem (not insurmountable) was to find one. And who better than herself to be of assistance here. As well as being a keen student of human nature she had a lot of many and varied people on her books, and knew a whole lot more. And, so what if Emma preferred to be bound and perhaps gagged to enjoy the act of love to the full. She wasn't alone in that by any means. It could even enhance her chances.
The meeting broke up. Before her two visitors went the now quiet and serious Emma wanted one of their bondage ropes as a memento of this milestone in her life.
Why not? said Geraldine, handing her one. Why not indeed?
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