A Visitor in Need

by Uto

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© Copyright 2021 - Uto - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; F/fm; bond; scarves; rope; rom; reluct; X

Harriet Chase lived in a well appointed two bedroom apartment in a good inner city suburb. It was on the first floor of a five floor residential building which was home to about sixty other people.

Harriet was fifty two, trim, healthy and firmly built with a solid face framed by slightly wavy dark brown hair. She smiled easily and was generally considered a pleasant person. She was a specialised computer expert and held an important managerial job with a national computer research firm. The work she did, the high standard equipment she used, gave her access to an incredible range of information. And she took full advantage of this. For personal as well as professional reasons.

She had been a widow for ten years, having nursed her husband until his mourned departure. Harriet had never remarried though she greatly enjoyed the pleasures of love. Instead now, she preferred to enjoy the favours of several partners which she was able to do because of her unique situation.

And so in the mid late afternoon of a bleak Winter day she was relaxing at her well equipped workstation having spent the day working from home. She decided she would like the attentions of a partner in love, it being several days since she had last indulged. And was considering which of two possible males this was going to be.

And then the front doorbell rang.

Harriet rarely had callers, other than her chosen lovers. She wondered who it could be.

She opened the door without hesitation, there were never any unwelcome intruders in this well managed apartment block. And saw a pitiful sight.

The caller was Lily Lamb, a single lady resident of the complex who lived at the far end of the ground floor. Harriet knew a little about her.

Lily was in her mid forties and had had a less than happy life. An indifferent childhood and education, not greatly talented, in her twenties she had become a nursing aid. Her social life had not been pleasant either. Her family had press-ganged her into an arranged marriage with a man who had turned out to be a weak, wife beating bully. This had ended in a painful divorce and for some years since Lily had been simply drifting socially. Though she had managed to get together enough to buy the one bedroom unit she now lived in. She had some survival skills.

The picture she presented on Harriet’s doorstep was pathetic. She looked thin, possibly underweight, her narrow face drawn and strained and her shoulder length fair hair tousled and untidy. She was dressed in an old skirt and a tattered but thick woollen cardigan that looked too big. She was stooped and had both arms clasped tightly in front of her.

“Harriet,” she said in a small thin voice, “I’ve, I've always thought of you as one of the kindest people in this building. I’m feeling depressed, so terribly depressed. Can you at least talk with me? I - I need help, badly.”

“And you certainly look like you do.” Harriet realised she was looking at an emergency. And resolved to help as best she could. That was her nature. “You’d better come in." She took Lily by the upper arm and drew her into the apartment. She looked searchingly at her visitor's lean and generally haggard appearance. “When’d you last eat properly?”

“I - I don’t know. Days ago.”

Harriet acted quickly. Within minutes she had her caller seated at her kitchen table. Twenty minutes later she was putting before her a steaming plate of cobbled together leftovers that was tasty, nourishing and filling. She poured her a glass of red wine to go with it. And then sat down and poured one for herself. “Eat,” she said, “And tell me about the problem while you’re doing it.”

And so it all came out. Lily had been suspended from her job ten days ago without warning. Dithering, totally unsure what to do, she had retired to her unit where her daily lifestyle, already insecure, had slowly crumbled. The last five days had been spent entirely within its walls where she had not seen or spoken to another human being. This stumbling foray up to Harriet’s apartment had been a final act of desperation.

With both of them seated in her kitchen, Harriet could see a firm, no nonsense approach was needed. “Well then,” she began, “I’ve got a few contacts with the hospital world and knowing the staff shortages there, getting you another job shouldn’t be too hard. So at least don’t worry about that.”

“But,” she went on, “Obviously, there’s more to it than that. It seems to me you have a social problem.”

“You see Lily, I’m high up in computer research and have some very state of the art technical equipment to work with. Added to that I’m of a nosy, inquiring turn of mind. And I’m not boasting when I say I’ve got quite a talent for it. Consequently I find out things about people they don’t know themselves.” Lily looked at her. Harriet had her complete attention. She had forgotten her woes and tribulations.

“Over the years I’ve learned a lot about people. And I can also tell when someone’s at the end of their tether." She looked knowingly at Lily. “You are at the end of yours.”

“I know a few things about you.” Harriet smiled. She refilled Lily’s now empty wine glass and topped up her own.

“You had a messy, painful divorce years ago. But it seems you came out of it well enough to provide yourself with that nice little unit you’re in. That was a good beginning.”

Harriet’s face became stern,”But it was long ago. How’ve your relations with people, men in particular been since then? You were only in your thirties then. Fit, healthy, a slim figure. Certainly not obese. Not a dazzling beauty but definitely not hideous either. No reason on earth why you shouldn’t have been successful with the male sex. Yet you haven’t done any good at all, have you?” Lily said nothing. The answer was so sadly, painfully yes.

She asked point blank, “How long is it since you’ve had a good, decent, satisfying fuck?”

“I - I don’t know. Years.” Somehow, Lily seemed to resent this question, not only for its crudity. “And you? What about yourself? How’ve you been getting on with men?”

Harriet smiled knowingly. “Very successfully indeed. I know I’ve been single for ten years, but I’ve got a number of men readily available to cater for my sexual needs whenever I desire them. Which is every four or five days. And I’ll tell you, I thoroughly enjoy it and far prefer it to a single relationship.”

“No need to go into details as to how I did this. Suffice to say I’ve worked very hard to achieve it and couldn’t have done it without the equipment my work has introduced me to. But it’s now a reality. I’m owed a lot of favours and can indulge whenever I wish.” Lily was amazed.

“Over an hour ago, before you arrived, I decided I wanted lovemaking and was sitting here pondering who was going to be my male partner. There're two in this unit block,” she laughed, “I just have to snap my fingers and either will come running.”

Lily was incredulous, “Two? Here? In this building?”

"You probably know of them. Rupert Weekes up on the top floor is one and Henry Warren, on the floor above.”

“Mr. Weekes, the retired minister?”

“Mr. Weekes the defrocked and sacked minister. His wealthy family repaid the church funds he embezzled and kept him out of prison. I found documentary proof of a far larger sum he got completely away with. If the Public Prosecutor knew about that he’d be spending his retirement in the clink.”

“We won’t go into what Henry’s done. Suffice to say he’s very grateful for my silence and always ready to do my bidding. In fact, I was just about to give him a call and a time to present himself when you rang my doorbell. But more about him later.”

Harriet faced her visitor across the kitchen table. “Lily, you’ve come to me for help and I feel bound to give it. But I’ll have to do it my way. If I send you back to your unit to stare at its four walls you’ll end up suicidal. I’m saying you need therapy.”

“Therapy?” Puzzlement and perhaps a glimmer of hope crossed Lily’s face.

“Yes. Curative treatment. In this case, regular sexual intercourse by selected and caring, skilled males.”

“Ooooah, arrhhh,” Lily’s face glowed with pleasure for fully half a minute. Then faded back to the look of empty despair she had worn on Harriet’s door step. “I,I ahh. But no, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. It’s not nice.”

“Rubbish. I’m not talking about alcohol, addictive drugs or harmful medication. It’s a perfectly natural thing. Something you’ve been deprived of for years by the sound of things. And it won’t cost you a penny.”

Lily’s face briefly lit up again then slipped back to the mask of utter hopelessness. “But, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be nice.”

Privately, Harriet wondered from which puritanical mother or prudish old maid aunt this interpretation of the word ‘nice’ had come from.

“Lily, this is very probably the only thing that can save you. And since you came to me for help I’m going to see that you get it.”

Lily, it seemed, didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. She stood up. “I’m, er I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have troubled you. Sorry. Th,thank you for the meal. I’ll go back to my unit. And wait there a few more days.”

And there, thought her hostess, at the end of the week you’ll probably be found hanging from the shower nozzle. Harriet herself stood up. She was wearing, as she usually did, a smartly tailored brown business suit. And with it a plain yellow scarf, loosely tied around her neck. She took this off and seemingly casually, slowly twisted it diagonally into a sash over a metre long. She approached her visitor.

“Well Lily, you could do that. Though I don’t think it’d be in your best interest.” She reached her guest, took her by the upper arm and turned her toward the hallway. “However, let me show you to the front door.” She pushed the younger woman forward. Lily moved ahead, as if in a daze.

Then Harriet acted swiftly. With Lily now in front of her, she quickly seized her limply hanging arms, crossed them behind her back and wrapped the scarf tie around her wrists several times. And secured it with a tight reef knot. Her startled visitor now had her hands tied behind her back. She was a captive. “What? What’re you doing?” she asked bleakly. Clearly she was in a very poor state.

“This is your first step on the road back to becoming a normal healthy woman, darling,” smiled Harriet. “I’m in charge now, so just let me look after everything. Let’s go into the lounge room. And if I hear the words ‘not nice’ again, I’ll gag you.”

In the lounge Lily was seated in a comfortable armchair. Harriet stood over her and playfully fondled her cheeks, pushing them together and causing her lips to purse. The captive flinched briefly at first and then deliberately moved her head in response. Her captor reflected on this and then asked quietly, “How long is it since you’ve been touched by another human being?”

“I don’t know. Years.” This seemed to be the stock reply from Lily to a lot of personal questions. You poor girl, thought Harriet, this remedial treatment is starting not a moment too soon. She moved to the phone table on the other side of the room.

“I’m going to call Henry Warren and get him down here,” she said, picking up the handset, “You’d know him by sight if nothing else. He doesn’t know it but he’s going to help you with your therapy.” She laughed, “Just think. Minutes before you arrived I was going to tell him to come and service me. Now you’re going to get the benefit of his talents. Don’t say I didn’t do anything for you.”

Lily now sat quietly and passively. Since her hands had been bound all signs of strain had gone from her face. Now that nothing was expected of her, she seemed calm and relaxed.

Meanwhile Harriet was telephoning. “Henry. Come down here as quickly as you can. Something important has come up and your skills are urgently needed. What? Then get rid of him. (Silence) Alright then. Twenty minutes. And don’t be a minute late.” She put down the receiver and looked at Lily. “Men,” she snapped, “Never available when they’re needed.”

Since they now had some time together Harriet felt it was time to tell her guest what form her therapy was to take. She pulled up a another armchair and sat facing her. “First, it’ll be a series of gently expert love couplings. And I assure you, you'll have a skilled, caring partner.” Lily’s empty face glowed for some seconds but this faded and was replaced by the old look of weary hopelessness.

“Perhaps,” Harriet went on sharply, “It’d be best in this early stage if you were rendered helpless first? Seeing you’ve got these ridiculous inhibitions. Your arms bound?” Lily’s face cleared. She gave the faintest of nods. Their talk continued, mainly dealing with her unsuccessful and gradually worsening social life since the breakup of her marriage seven years before.

A discreet knock at the door. Harriet admitted the caller. A man about her own age, solidly, firmly built and fit. A square face, a full head of hair, faintly greying, he looked determined and competent. He wore a zipped jacket and grey jeans. “Do you two know each other?” their hostess asked of him and Lily.

“Mr Warren?” asked Lily.

“Oh, call me Henry,” was the reply, “You’re Lily aren’t you?” He walked over and glanced down at her. “Lily, you’re under restraint.” He turned and looked at Harriet. “What’s happening here?”

“That’s what you’ve been brought here for Henry,” said Harriet, “Sit down in this other chair and allow me to explain.”

And she did. She began with Lily’s tragic entry into her apartment over an hour before and then a brief but accurate description of the unhappy years before that. And a short explanation why her hands were tied. Henry listened in silence, occasionally glancing at Lily. When it was over he said to her, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“And now,” concluded Harriet, “Lily has come to me for help. And I’ve decided she needs remedial therapy. In this case a series of regular sexual lovemakings by a caring, skilled male. And that’s where you come in Henry.” Henry blinked and stared at her. But said nothing. He knew better than to argue with her.

“And furthermore. Since she’s been unfortunately brainwashed from an early age that the act of love, outside the sanctimonious marriage bond is ’not nice’ - stupid phrase - I am going to see that she is firmly but comfortably tied up for the first of these couplings. That way she can relax and enjoy it with a clear conscience. Do I make myself clear?” No answer from either.

“Well then. I take it both of you are in agreement? It doesn’t really matter. Lily’s wrists are already tied. And you, Henry, of course will not disagree with me. Will you?” She looked at him. Henry nodded silently. “It’s settled then. Thank you both for your cooperation.”

Smiling, Harriet stood up. “Let’s get started then. I would suggest the bed in the guest room.” She helped Lily to her feet. “This way, dear.” She steered her to the door. And to the other, “Henry, go and get the box of bondage things from the bedroom. We’re going to need it.” Henry did as he was told.

The guest room was a comfortable, neat bedroom with a standard double bed. Harriet stood Lily at one side of it. Henry entered with a cardboard box. “Put it on the bed,” ordered the mistress of the proceedings.

“This Lily, is going to be the scene of your first lovemaking in years and perhaps the first really good one of your life. May you enjoy it. We are both going to strive to that end.” She smiled and gently stroked her cheek. Lily, she saw, after possibly years of never being touched by another human being, liked intimate personal caresses. How she had been deprived.

Harriet and Henry stood on each side of Lily. “Now my dear, our first move will be to tie your wrists and arms, using our bondage playthings.” A nod toward the box on the bed. “But first we’ll strip you of this,” she began to pull off the tattered, dirty, oversized woollen cardigan the visitor had worn into the apartment. “It makes you look like a bag lady.” Strangely, Lily was wearing a neat, clean, well fitting white blouse underneath which contrasted with her otherwise unkempt appearance.

“And now,” said Harriet, reaching for the box of bondage things, “We’re going to render you incapable. And not a word of complaint or I’ll put a gag in your mouth.”

“I wasn’t going to say a word,” said Lily in a quiet voice.

The pair got some of their softest sashes out of the bondage box. Swiftly her wrists were crossed behind her back, a blue tie wound round them and knotted securely. Next they bound her arms to her sides, both above and below her breasts, causing her bust to protrude in sharp relief. Lily had what could be described as a small but firm, well shaped athletic bosom. Lastly they tied a long length several times around her slim waist, securing her forearms. All of the sashes they used were of soft blue material that went well with the clean white blouse.

“There. That’s enough,” smiled Harriet, “We’ll leave your legs free for other purposes.” She took Lily’s chin in one hand. “And shall we apply a gag to this pretty, little mouth? We’ve got several in there.”

“I’m not going to scream or cry out,” Lily said, once again quietly.

“No. No gag.” Henry spoke firmly, “I want us to be able to talk.”

“As you wish,” said Harriet, “Well then. Here commences Stage Two.” She pulled the coverlet off the bed, folded it roughly and placed it on the chest of drawers. Next she took a folded towel out of one drawer and spread it neatly on the top bed blanket. “Henry, you’d better get undressed.” Then as an afterthought she turned to Lily, “Do you want him undressed?”

“Up to him,” again the small quiet voice, “More importantly, what about my lower clothing and shoes? Since this is going ahead and I can do nothing, I’d prefer them removed.”

“Of course, of course,” Harriet mused, "I was forgetting.’’ She unclasped and unzipped Lily’s old skirt, dropped it to the floor and then slid down her knickers. “Sit down please. I’ll take off your shoes.” Lily did this and Madame in Charge removed all three. Skirt and underwear were placed carefully on the chest of drawers, the shoes arranged neatly under the bed. In doing this she noticed their captive’s vaginal orifice seemed to be moistening. A good sign, she hoped. Lily’s face looked calm and composed. Not a trace of the worried despair of before she had lost her liberty. Madame took a brush from a bedside table drawer swiftly produced some order to Lily’s tousled locks. “You’ve got nice hair. You should look after it. Men like that.”

Henry, meanwhile, had taken off his jacket and was now unbuttoning his shirt. Harriet made Lily lie down on the bed and spoke, “Well then, there’s nothing more for me to do. So I’ll leave you two to it.” She smiled and pinched Lily’s cheek, “Best of luck.”

And left the room.

Almost two hours later Harriet stood up in her lounge room. She had changed and was wearing a comfortable shorter skirt and a trim, well fitting white blouse, not unlike the one Lily had worn. She spoke, “I’d better go and see what those two are doing.”

She knocked discreetly on the door and poked her head in.

Both were sitting side by side on the bed, fully clothed, though without their shoes. Henry appeared to be quietly saying something. Lily was tidily putting the rolled up sashes she had been bound with back in the bondage materials box. On her face was a look of quiet contentment.

“It’s early evening, children,” she said, “Time to think of something to eat. Come into the lounge room. I’ve got company.”

Minutes later the pair walked into the lounge, both wearing their shoes, Lily carrying the bondage box which she placed on the coffee table.

Harriet’s visitor was Rupert Weekes, the one-time churchman from the top floor, whom she had described as also ready to cater for her needs when required. He was of average height, mid fifties, trim, looked reasonably fit with a head of grey hair. He got up as they entered. She introduced all three though she said they probably knew each other by sight.

“I called Rupert up and on hearing I was on my own in here he kindly came down to keep me company,” was her explanation for his presence. Rupert managed a faint smile. Like Henry, he was not one to contradict her.

Harriet seated her visitors in comfortable chairs around the coffee table. She laid out four glasses and a full decanter of sherry. And then poured a generous measure into each. “I think we have something to celebrate. Hopefully, a change in Lily’s fortunes for the better. After many years of waste and misfortune.” She paused. “Without going into detail. Am I right Lily?”

Lily smiled. “I think so. Certainly a change for the better. And certainly better than the nightmare of the last few weeks. Thank you.”

They raised their glasses and drank. Harriet became serious. She spoke to Lily. “What’s the general condition of your unit at the moment?”

Lily’s look of content faded, she looked ashamed, “Untidy, dirty even. Things’ve been let go for a long while.”

“Then you’d better stay the night here. To go back to squalor might undo all the good that’s been done.” She took a mouthful of sherry. "Tomorrow we’ll both go down and look at it. If need be, I’ll pay contract domestic cleaners to clean the place. Meantime, you can spend the night in the guest room. I’ll lock you in if necessary. I warn you, I’ll do anything to prevent regressive backsliding. Understood?” Lily nodded.

“And you Henry. We can sometime arrange the next remedial coupling.” Lily’s eyes lifted at the mere thought of it. Harriet went on, “The ideal for you my girl would of course be a permanent partner. But with the male counterpart of yourself, not just anybody. That was the problem with your family’s choice.”

Lily spoke quietly, “I’ve been trying for six years to find someone like myself. He doesn’t exist.”

“Rubbish. But you don’t have the connections I have. Or the resources I’ve got. He does exist. I’ve met men like yourself several times. They exist alright. But,” she went on, “That’s in times to come. Right now we’ve got a remedial therapy to work out.” She raised her glass again.

“Let’s drink to a better future.”

They raised their glasses again.


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