Eight Months Later.
It was late afternoon on a drizzly Autumn day. A train had left the City on a western line and was heading towards the mountain residential suburbs. And travelling on it in an almost empty carriage was Rosemary Ritter.
Rosemary was a retired teacher in her mid late fifties. A trim figured, athletic woman with an oval face, a sharp chin, framed by straight, black hair. She was generally regarded by those who knew her as a pleasant person. She had spent most of the day in the City, much of the later part at a small, discreet place that carried some select ladies wear in the inner suburbs.
Here she had bought a raincoat. A stylish trench, light beige in colour, double breasted with fabric covered buttons, as well as wrist ties and a wide belt which fitted through waist loops. And a capacious hood, which tied fetchingly under the chin. The outer cover was completely proofed and rustled as the wearer moved.
Rosemary had spent some time selecting this item and when she was done, saw it had begun to rain outside. Impulsively, she told the sales assistant she would wear her new purchase home. This obliging lady, who well understood the discerning customers who came to this shop, removed all labels and helped button and belt her into her new rainwear. And tied the hood with a neat bow. Lastly, the old woollen winter coat she had worn on arrival was tightly folded and placed in the plastic carry bag she had brought with her. Rosemary walked into the rain well protected.
She caught a train home at an inner city station and was almost alone in the front carriage. She thrust her hands deep into the large pockets of her purchase. The waterproof fabric creaked and whispered. Just before her mountain stop she took a pair of large round dark glasses from the carry bag and carefully fitted them on, pulling the covering hood a little further over her face. And looked at her reflection in the darkened, rain spattered train window. Rosemary smiled, thinking she looked like a lady CIA agent setting out on a dangerous mission.
Waiting under a sheltering awning at her intended stop was her lover, Geoffrey. He was an (early) retired government employee a couple of years older than herself. Lean and fit, he kept healthy by plentiful walking exercise. He had a square solid face and a full head of hair, now slightly greying. A widower of about nine years, he enjoyed the company of women. He and Rosemary were, at this stage, still discreet about their relationship. He was wearing a cloth cap, a waterproof coat and grey jeans. He was unaware of his mistress’s new purchase.
Rosemary got off the train and seeing Geoffrey under the shelter, hurried toward him. He did not recognise her at first with her large dark glasses and new trench coat. When he did he asked when she was some feet away, “That’s new, isn’t it?”
She reached him, smiled and brushed his cheek with hers (they did not kiss or embrace in public yet), “It is. But let’s keep your examination and admiration until we get to your place.” They turned and left the station.
Both lovers had lived in this mountain suburb for nearly two years now. It was a favoured area for commuters who liked to live in free standing residences in a quiet timbered area and travel down to the City on the coast. Rosemary lived in such a cottage in a cul-de-sac about a kilometre from the train station.
But in the last three years there had been new developments. Several three floor unit apartment blocks had been built a few hundred yards from the station. For those who wanted community living without the encumbrance of a garden. Geoffrey had bought one such two bedroom unit six months ago. And it was towards this they were headed now. There were few around on this darkening, wet rainy evening. And Rosemary felt her new raincoat with its hood and the dark glasses concealed her identity anyway. She took this arm.
They planned to spend the night together at his place, in each others' arms. And she would go to her own cottage before first light in the morning.
They reached Geoffrey’s unit block and went up to his first floor front door without anyone seeing them. Once inside they closed it and embraced on the ceramic tiled vestibule area. They kissed hungrily. They had been apart for three days and being normal, healthy active lovers they’d missed each other. His waterproof jacket and her new trench coat rustled and crackled.
They paused for breath and released each other. “I like your new coat,” he said, caressing its outer fabric with his hands, “It’s rubberised, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she admitted, “And I had some difficulty finding a place where to get it. They don’t make many of them these days. But it was possible. And I’ll want it to be part of our little episode tonight.” She stepped back. “But meanwhile, first things first. We'll have something to eat.” She stood before him, slowly and deliberately unbelted and unbuttoned her newest acquisition, draped it over one arm and headed for the unit kitchen. She was wearing a neat blue two piece business suit.
The ‘little episode’ mentioned referred to an aspect of the lovemaking they would do that evening. And for this some explanation is needed.
They had become lovers eight months before. At a meeting at Rosemary’s cottage the two had talked about a recent local payroll robbery. Three ladies had been bound and gagged in this incident. One of them, an old friend of hers, had confided afterwards that being tied hand and foot and then deprived of speech had sexually aroused her. Rosemary and Geoffrey had discussed this with interest. The result had been an experiment in bondage lovemaking. Which had been highly successful and agreeable to both.
Since then they had met discreetly and practised intercourse with one party (usually Rosemary) under some restraint. Which was delightfully satisfying for both of them. They had acquired a collection of bondage equipment, sashes, ties, ropes, even gags which they kept in two discreetly concealed boxes, each in their own homes.
They had even made a somewhat jocular foray to a sex shop in a large regional mountain town. Here they had humorously purchased a large ball gag. This was a perforated rubber ball with a soft leather strap. This was kept with Geoffrey’s collection and so far had only been used, with amusing and effective results, on Rosemary.
And now these two adjourned to Geoffrey’s kitchen for the making of the evening meal. They prepared, cooked and served it on his small dining table. A bottle of wine was produced and the two sat down to dine and discuss what they would do in the evening. Meanwhile, the rain set in.
Of late they had been occasionally spicing their lovemaking episodes with various acted scenarios. A source of amusement and pleasure to both of them. A recent humorously successful one having been that of a lonely, old maid spinster, taken captive in a home invasion. Securely bound and imperfectly gagged, she tries to induce her captor to take sexual advantage of her. Her home is quite empty of valuables, it’s a wasted evening for him, so he might as well get something for his trouble. And assuage a long felt need.
The two washed up at the sink under the window and looked at the rain streaming down the glass. Rosemary spoke, “I think I might be in charge tonight.” Geoffrey nodded. If they had any established procedure at all it was turn and turn about. And last time he had been the reluctantly obliging burglar who had catered for a desperately deprived lady’s needs. “And I think we might use that old wooden chair in your lounge.”
This was a very old piece of wooden furniture Geoffrey had inherited from his mother. And whom he suspected had got it from her parents. Of solid black polished stained timber, it stood on four square legs as thick as a man’s arm. A solid timber seat, three sloping boards made the high back and it had two wide flat plank like arm rests. It was extremely heavy and could only be moved with difficulty.
The pair stood in front of it. “I think it’ll do nicely,” said Rosemary. “I’m going to tie you to it. Go and get the box of ties.” While he was away she got a large flat cushion from the lounge and put it on the slatted seat. “So you’ll be comfortable,” she explained when he returned, “Sit down please.” He sat down. She pulled up a small coffee table and put the bondage equipment box on it.
“Make yourself comfy.” He wriggled back against the sloping backrest and put both forearms on the flat armrests.
He wondered what she was going to do. Often they did not tell each other about the little scenarios they planned to use. To give the other a surprise. First she used one of their longest sashes to bind his waist to the three sloping back boards, winding it round many times. Then she tied each forearm to the wide arm rests. Again she used many lashings to do this. He reflected that though she had only used three of their ties he was already helplessly anchored to the chair. Which was immovable.
“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “That’ll hold you for the time being.” She left the room but quickly returned with the raincoat she had bought that afternoon. “Now I’ll get into uniform.” Standing directly in front of him she slowly and sensuously began to put it on. First her arms in the sleeves, then she did up the double breasted buttons, starting from the bottom, leaving only the top undone. She made sure the wide belt was through every loop and did it up tightly, which emphasised her trim waist. Lastly, she tightened the wrist ties.
“There,” she said again and thrust both hands deep into the large pockets. And swung her hips from side to side. “Now think of me what you will. Whatever you will.” She smiled in a way which puzzled him.
“I’m a female CIA agent. I’m a lady gangster on the prowl. Or perhaps I am simply an old flame whom you heartlessly dumped for a younger woman long ago. And now I’m going to pay you back. Think what you like. Meanwhile..” She turned to the bondage box, “I’ll put the finishing touches on your means of restraint.”
Another long sash under his armpits bound his upper body to the sloping back. Then she knelt and firmly tied each ankle to the square front chair legs. Many windings were used to make these absolutely secure. And lastly she lashed his legs above the knees to the front armrest supports.
“At last," she cried, stepping back. “Pretty as a picture. Nothing boosts a girl’s ego more than having a man completely in her power.” She leaned forward and sharply pinched his cheek.
“Rosemary,” he began tentatively, “All this is new. You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”
Lightly, she slapped his face. “Shush. I’m in charge here. Be quiet.” Then turned and began to rummage in the bondage box. “Just one more thing remains to be done to prepare you completely.”
She held up their rubber ball gag. “I know you get a real kick out of putting this into my mouth. Now it’s your turn, you male bully.” She pressed it against his lips.
“Rosemary! I, I ah mmffff..” Whatever else he might have said was lost as she slid the rubber between his teeth then jerked the leather tie straps back and firmly buckled them at the back of his head. This was the first time he had ever worn it.
“There! all done.” She cradled his cheeks in both her hands and then impishly tweaked his nose. “Like it? The gag I mean. It’s very effective. Quite comfortable, if you relax your jaws.” His eyes bulged over the straps.
She stepped back, her trench coat rustling, and walked back and forth in front of him. Her hands thrust deep into its pockets. “I suppose you’re wondering what’s going to happen next? Aren’t you?" She smiled. “Well then. Let’s get on with it. We can’t keep you waiting, can we?”
She stood in front of him, between his splayed thighs. And then knelt down on both knees. Her hands undid the buckle of his jeans, then the shiny metal top button and finally the zip was jerked down as far as it would go. The flaps were pulled wide apart, exposing the white bulge of his underpants. “Mmmm,” she murmured sensuously, “Quite a bump we have here, haven’t we? I wonder what’s in it.” Her fingers caressed it. He mewed sensuously and strained at his bonds.
A quick jerk down of the underpants waistband exposed his genitals in all their glory. Rosemary stared in silence and then said, “Yesterday morning I shaved my vaginal area completely. I prefer my men to be clear and smooth too. Not hairy and scratchy. Attend to it sometime, if you please.” She looked up at him. His eyes bulged over the leather straps of his gag. He made a sharp grunting noise.
“What?” she asked. Her fingernails dug sharply into his pubic area. He nodded his head vigorously. “You’d better,” was her only comment. Further vigorous nodding.
“And now let us go on to the next stage.” She lifted his member up and fingered it gently, “Not the largest specimen I’ve ever seen but that’s all right. Too big a cock, and badly wielded can be unpleasant for a girl.” She gave it a gentle squeeze, “I think this little fellow, properly catered for, will do very well.” She smiled at Geoffrey.
She began to caress the dangling digit which slowly started to stiffen. “Remember, I’m in charge. You just relax and be pleasured. I’ll tell you if I want you to do anything.” And be pleasured he was.
Several times she brought him to the brink of ejaculation then smiled evilly and let him subside and then started again. Geoffrey was in a frenzy. Never had he been handled by such a temptress. He was beside himself.
Finally she took pity on him. “Alright darling. You’ve had enough. It’d be cruel, possibly harmful to keep going like this. Let Mama put you out of your misery.” She released the throbbing member, bent down and took it carefully and fully into her mouth. Moments of oral stimulation followed. Geoffrey felt himself catapulted over the brink. It was the greatest ejaculation of his life. He was in a state of ecstatic failing consciousness.
Many minutes later he came back to earth. He was still in his mother’s black stained antique chair. The gag was gone from his mouth. Rosemary, still wearing her trench coat, was standing beside him untying his bonds. Always the methodical practical woman, she was rolling the sashes up neatly and putting them away in the bondage box. Seeing his eyes open she smiled.
“Hello darling. Rejoining us? Did you have a nice time?”
At last he found his voice and croaked, “We’ve got to get married. I never want to lose you. Ever.”
A light laugh. “Well that is a romantic way to greet any woman. A proposal no less.”
“I’m serious. You’ll have to move in here. To hell with what these old busybodies think. And I want to make love to you.”
She pulled up another lounge chair and sat facing him. “We’ve had a delightful time. And there’ll be more to come. But meanwhile the facts are these. It’s nearing ten o’clock. It’s still raining steadily outside. I’ll have to spend the night here.” A smile, “And there’ll be a pleasant coupling before dawn. But, I insist, not immediately after this recent episode. It was a milestone. Anything attempted too quickly after would probably spoil it. A dismal anticlimax as it were.”
Rosemary leaned back in her chair, smiling broadly now. “Might I suggest the following procedure to end what I suspect is going to be thought of as a landmark day.” Geoffrey nodded. He was beginning to understand the wisdom of this treasure of a woman he had found.
"We wind down slowly. We tidy up here and then we sit in the lounge in front of the fire and have a couple of celebratory drinks. There certainly is something to celebrate. And then we go to the bathroom and have a shower - together. And then, to bed.
Geoffrey was serious. “It seems unfair. I’m getting everything. I’ve had an amazing experience. Whereas you’ve done all the work. You’ve even got my discharge in you. You’ve had no pleasure.”
She laughed. “As to the last - it’s quite harmless. And it doesn’t worry me. And as to the foreplay, there’s a prideful satisfaction in successfully manipulating a man. Professionally.’’ A knowing smile. “A girl’s got to keep her hand in you know. And, as mentioned, there’s tomorrow morning," another smile, "You can make it up then.” Rosemary stood up, her trench coat rustling as she did so. And walked towards the liquor cabinet. Geoffrey humbly followed her.
And so ultimately to bed. They slept soundly. And the rain continued to patter down. They awoke in the hours before dawn. As promised there was a loving joining of bodies. Geoffrey did his utmost to please.
They got up at daybreak. Geoffrey wore his jeans and a winter shirt, Rosemary the neat well fitting blue business suit she had worn to the select City shop yesterday. They prepared and laid out a modest breakfast on the kitchen table. And then sat eating it, watching the rain running down the window over the sink.
“I’m glad I’ve got a reliable piece of rainwear to wear home,” Rosemary began, “I’m only sorry my feet will get wet in these flat shoes.”
Geoffrey spoke up, “I’ve got a pair of calf length rubber rain boots here. They used to belong to my wife. You’re about her size. You can have them.”
She smiled, “You’re a darling.”
Half an hour later they both stood on the tiled vestibule area, just inside the front door. Rosemary was rain booted, rain coated, belted and with her hood pulled over her head. She had her carry bag slung over one shoulder and even had an old umbrella Geoffrey had given her. She was well dressed to step out into the continuing rain which looked like it had set in for the day.
She said she would try and slip out of the building unobserved. She would go to the station road and follow it to her home. If she met anyone she knew the story would be she’d spent the night away from home. Which was true.
But wearing her dark glasses and wrapped in her enveloping rain gear there was little chance of recognition. There would be few people about on a day like this anyway.
They shared one last full embrace inside the closed door. Rosemary’s trench coat crackled and rustled. “See you soon Angel,” she whispered.
A quick look to make sure the coast was clear and Rosemary Ritter stepped out on her way home.