Lady from the Forest

by Uto

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© Copyright 2019 - Uto - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; bond; gag; reluct; sex; X

Elaine was a young woman in her mid thirties, very fit, solid and athletic. She had a pointed chin and a determined face, framed by shoulder length black hair which at the moment was somewhat dishevelled. She was regarded as the sort of person who generally did what they set out to do. Most of her working life had been spent in banking finance.

But this was some time back. She had spent the last few months in a woman’s penitentiary and had only escaped a few hours previously. Her crime had been white collar, the misappropriation of many millions. It had been other peoples’ money and certain highly placed people had decided that she should to be out of circulation for a very long time. Hence her need to escape and if possible leave the country.

The prison was situated on the edge of a well settled suburb and backed onto a heavily forested national park. Escapees usually fled into the suburb itself, making their way to the train station or bus stop and it was here they were usually recaptured. Elaine had been astute enough to get out by a side entrance, make her way to the rear and into the thick timber which grew almost to the back of the jail. No one saw her.

Something of an outdoors woman, she had found a little used walking track that led almost directly away from the jail. Unfortunately the trail was somewhat overgrown and it had rained twice, soaking her by now tattered grey prison uniform. By late afternoon she had reached the back fences of a short suburban cul-de-sac about ten miles from her starting point.

Damp and somewhat muddy, she now stood under the cover of some trees and reflected on her situation. It was now late, getting cold and the sun was setting. She needed a warm bath or shower, some suitable female clothes and importantly, a telephone. An invasion of one of the households in front of her would have to provide these.

But most of the four or five backyards she could see contained tricycles, scooters and kiddies' playhouses. Obviously family homes. She wanted nothing to do with children.

Only the one immediately in front looked at looked at all promising. Neat, tidy, yard completely bare except for mown grass. No attempt to start a garden. There was a clothes hoist on which hung a white single bed sheet and two pillow cases. A single person household perhaps?

As she watched a stout black dressed woman carrying a clothes basket came out the back door, walked to the hoist and began to to take down the laundry. Which was probably wet from the last rain. Even at this distance Elaine could see she had white hair.

That settled it. A single lady, probably retired and living alone. She’d do. She’d have to. The woman picked up the basket and re-entered the house. Elaine moved forward.

This lady was Charlotte and she wasn’t retired. And she wasn't even forty yet, though close to it. Her hair had simply whitened prematurely and she had refused to re-colour it on principle. She had a solid active figure, unfortunately tending to plumpness of late. Her face was square with an intelligent, sensible demeanour. She still wore her now snow-like hair in the page boy style of her youth. Her very eventful career had been in law and economics and she had lived in this cottage for some years now. Today she was wearing an old but neat black dress that tended to emphasise her growing figure.

The rear of the property was not fenced. Elaine made her way up one side, taking advantage of some native trees growing along the boundary fence. She reached the back door and noiselessly slipped inside. This was the kitchen, which was empty, Charlotte was busy in the laundry on one side, putting the wet wash into a dryer.

Elaine patiently waited until she was finished. The task done, Charlotte hung the laundry basket on the wall and went back to the kitchen. And saw with surprise she had an unexpected visitor.

“Oh! Who’re you?” was her first reaction, “What do you want? Where’ve you come from?” Then she looked at the frayed and muddy uniform, “Up through the bush by the looks of things.” Charlotte was a calm, level headed person, not given to panicking.

And Elaine was glad she was like this. It would make her task easier. “Well Granny,” she began, “I’ll need…”

“I’m not your grandmother,” interrupted Charlotte, “I’m not much older than you. And I’ll tell you now, I don’t keep much money in the house and there’s very little worth stealing. You’ve come to the wrong place. So you might as well leave.”

Elaine was further pleased. A sensible, no-nonsense woman, something like herself. “Very well Madam. That black dress misled me. I can tell you now I’m just passing through and won’t stay any longer than necessary. But I do need to use your telephone, I want a hot shower and I’ll need a set of clean woman’s clothing.” She laughed, "Nothing fancy or expensive I assure you. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.” She eyed Charlotte’s figure, slightly more fleshy than her own. “Some of your older things, perhaps.”

Charlotte let this pass. “If that’s all you want, I think they can be provided. I Take it you want to do these things now?”

“As soon as possible,” Elaine’s face became serious. “But I'll want to make the call and shower in private. That means I’m going to have to tie you up.”

Charlotte’s face darkened, “That’s quite unnecessary,” she said.

“Ah, but it is,” Elaine smiled, “While I’m in the shower washing this mud off, what’s to stop you taking off somewhere?” She moved over to her unwilling hostess and took her firmly by the upper arm. “We’ll do it in your bedroom. But first we’ll visit your linen cupboard.” As they moved out she pulled a carving knife out of a bench top knife block. “I’ll need this,” she explained.

Charlotte thought of resisting but decided against it. This woman was younger than her, probably fitter and stronger and as a professional criminal (as she had decided her visitor probably was) would know every trick in the book in a hand to hand fight.

They stopped at the linen press in the hall. Elaine selected the oldest and most worn folded sheet in it. She explained, “Since this’s going to be cut up, there’s no sense in using your good linen, is there?" Charlotte felt some small degree of appreciation.

In the bedroom she made her captive sit on the bed while she cut and tore the sheet into wide strips. These were then folded into thick wide bindings. Charlotte was then made to stand on the bedroom carpet near the wardrobe.

The householder complained, “I repeat, this is absolutely unnecessary.” Her captor took no notice and began by tying her wrists behind her back with one of the prepared lengths cut in half. Next she bound her arms other sides below her breasts with one of the long lengths and then above the bust with another. Finally a last sash around her waist and lower arms.

Charlotte, in her black dress with her upper body encased in white bindings was beginning to look like a well wrapped bundle. Elaine bound with some care and tried to make her knots neat and tidy. She stepped back to admire her work.

Then she moved close to Charlotte and playfully caressed her cheeks and chin. “And now a nice gag for this pretty mouth.” There was an on-suite wash basin and mirror in the corner of the bedroom. She took a damp face washer from this and folded it into a neat wad.

“There’s no need to gag me,” protested Charlotte, “Absolutely no need. I’m not the hysterical type.”

“Yes there is darling,” Elaine forced the pad between her unwilling lips and secured it with a short wide sash which covered the lower half of her face. Charlotte now stood with her arms tightly bound and with her mouth completely gagged.

Next she was forced to walk to her wardrobe which was unlocked and opened. Inside at one end was a low chest of three drawers. Elaine lifted a pair of shoes off this and pushed the hanging clothing to the other end. “Now then darling, if you'll just sit on this." To show what she meant, she pushed her captive inside so that her ample bottom was seated on the cabinet.

She then knelt and bound her prisoner’s legs with the last of the prepared sashes. Above and below the knees and finally the final long tie was looped many times around her ankles and firmly knotted. Charlotte was very securely bound and tightly gagged in her own wardrobe.

“There,” Elaine surveyed her work. She lifted her captive’s legs and spun her round so that she was now completely inside. “Now you’re as snug as a bug in a rug.” Charlotte glared at her.

Elaine started to close the door. “You can’t get loose so don’t try. You’ll be more comfortable that way,” and a final admonition. “Just sit still, don’t move and above all, keep quiet.” And then she turned the key in the wardrobe lock.

Her next move was to get herself clean and presentable. But first an all important phone call. Elaine hurried to the telephone nook and seat she had seen in the hall. She took out a number she had carefully concealed throughout her stay in prison.

The call took some time. At first it did not sound as if it was going well. “What do you mean, two or three hours? Can’t you get here before that?” More discussion followed. Then it sounded as if the called party wanted details of the household Elaine had come to. And of the householder. There were two opened envelopes on the nook bench top. She read out the name and address in full.

She learned that her reluctant hostess’s name was Charlotte Demarest. This seemed to have an immediately favourable effect on the other party. “OK. So you’ll be here in about half an hour now? Very well, I’ll be ready. See you then.” She hung up, wondering at the sudden change of attitude at the other end. Elaine got up and headed for the bathroom.

Just twenty minutes later she came out. Very clean, hair thoroughly washed and wearing a soft, white, very good quality dressing gown she had found on a peg. And pair of warm slippers. Feeling much better, she went back to the bedroom.

She did up the tie-belt of the dressing gown tightly and unlocked and opened the wardrobe door. “Well Granny, er sorry, Madam. I wasn’t away so long was I? Time to get some wearing apparel out of your nice selection here.” She began to take the dresses out on their hangers and examine them one by one. Charlotte, bound and gagged at the other end, glared.

In the end only one came even close to fitting her. The oldest dress in the collection. A white, belted, calf length creation with long sleeves. “Well Madame,” Elaine held it in front of her in the full length bedroom mirror. “This’ll have to do then.” She held it at arms length. Charlotte scowled at her. At that moment the front door bell rang.

It rang three times. Then silence for ten seconds. And then another three rings. Elaine put the white dress carefully on the bed. “That’s my call,” she said happily. She quickly re-locked the wardrobe door on Charlotte and hurried out of the room.

The caller was Beryl. She was in her early forties, of average height, with a full solid figure that exuded physical capability. She had a square determined face, framed by short brown hair. This evening she wore a belted trench coat buttoned to the throat. She had brown leather gloves and a narrow brimmed hat pulled low over her forehead. She stood at the front door. Behind her the sun had set, dark clouds had rolled in and darkness had descended.

She and Elaine embraced heartily, Beryl’s raincoat crackling as they hugged each other.

"It’s been a long time darling,” whispered Elaine, “I’m glad to see you.”

“A long time indeed,” returned Beryl, “And the sooner we get you back to base, the sooner we can help you. But first there’s perhaps a few things to be done here before we do that.” Elaine stared quizzically. “Lead the way to your lady hostess. Whom, I hope you’ve been treating with some regard.” The captor was even more puzzled at this. “Where’ve you got her?”

In the bedroom Beryl looked askance to learn that the lady of the house was bound and gagged in her own wardrobe. “Well then, we’d better get her out of there.” She looked at the selected white dress on the bed. “And since, I take it, you've chosen that as your wearing apparel, you’d better get into it.” She turned and unlocked the wardrobe door.

“Hello there,” she said on seeing the bound householder, “It’s Charlotte, Charlotte Demarest isn’t it? Firstly we’ll get you out. I want to talk to you. Sorry you’ve been treated like this but I suppose it was thought necessary.” Without further ado she swung Charlotte’s legs so that they were outside the wardrobe and knelt to untie her ankle bindings. Elaine picked up the white dress. Briefly, she’d thought these two must know each other. Now it seemed they didn’t.

Meanwhile Beryl had got the captive’s legs completely untied. She lifted her onto her feet, steadied her and made sure she was able to walk. “I’ll look after our lady hostess from here,” she said to Elaine, “You carry on getting dressed and make yourself ready to travel.” And with that she moved Charlotte, her arms bound and still tightly gagged, out of the bedroom.

The two went by way of the kitchen. Here Beryl stopped by the sink, undid the sash around her captive’s head and pulled out the wad gag. Then she filled a glass with water and held it to Charlotte’s lips. “Here, rinse your mouth out. You probably need it.” She did. She washed her mouth and was held over the sink to spit out the water. Then Beryl lifted what was left in the glass so she could drink it and then wiped her face.

“Thank you,” murmured Charlotte. No effort was made to untie her arms. Instead Beryl guided her to the lounge room and helped her to sit down in the softest looking arm chair. She then dragged up another chair alongside and sat in it herself.

“We might as well be comfortable,” she smiled and turned to the still bound Charlotte. “We’ll leave you like that for the moment. I can see that you’re not in any discomfort.” She settled back in her chair, her trench coat rustling, "You’ll have to forgive my colleague in there for anything she’s done to you,” she nodded toward the bedroom, “She’s come from a difficult situation and is hopefully, on her way to a better life.” Her companion nodded but did not say anything.

Beryl went on, “And now Ms Charlotte Demarest. You’ve certainly come a long way from Central University in the nineties haven’t you? Summa cum laude in Advanced Economics wasn’t it? You achieved quite a lot in those days. Even set records. I quite admired what you did. Pity you got involved with that Aubrey Desaige. Those years of partnership with him turned out badly. He’s still inside I believe, though due for release shortly. And those Latin American interests with their links to drug cartels. Lastly, your long engagement to that Tancred character. What a bastard he proved himself to be. Just as well you didn’t marry him. And then you ended up out here. In a job unworthy of your talents. This is the sticks."

She looked carefully at the bound woman. “Really, you haven’t had much luck at all, particularly with men, have you? Your life’s been one bastard after another.” She sounded sympathetic, “No wonder your hair turned white.”

Charlotte was utterly astonished to hear all of this. Finally she spoke, “You seem to have my entire adult life off pat. Ever since Central Uni." She looked critically at her captor, “Were you there yourself by any chance?”

Beryl smiled, “Let’s say I’ve been in a position to observe. I’ve followed your unhappy progress for some time.”

“You’re with some national organisation, are you? Some syndicate or other?”

Beryl smiled, “International, rather than national. Bigger than you think. You may’ve heard of the Southern Connection.”

“I have.” Charlotte was thoughtful, “So you’re with them are you?”

Beryl decided it was time to move to other matters. “It was pure chance that I was assigned to pick up our absconding friend here tonight.” She nodded toward the bedroom where Elaine was. “But I recognised your name as soon as I heard it. I repeat, I have, amongst a lot of other things, been following your career for years. And it’s my opinion you’ve had rotten luck. Considering the promising start back at good old Central U.”

Charlotte was silent. Finally she said, “Like you said, a succession of bastards, one after another.”

Beryl tried another tack, “And how long since you’ve had a satisfactory, worthwhile love experience?”

“I can’t remember. Years.”

“And no man in your life at the moment.”


“I thought so,” Beryl leaned forward in her chair, her raincoat rustling. “When I heard your name this afternoon, I organised something before I set out. It wasn’t easy at short notice but it was possible. I brought someone with me.”

She went on. “Knowing your likely social life of recent years I concluded you’d like nothing more than a good professional fuck.”

Charlotte stared straight at her and then said, quite matter of factly, “That’s right. I would.”

“Well, the car I drove here in is parked in a secluded spot not far from your front gate. In it is the man I brought with me. Still waiting patiently. I know him to be a clean, quiet, a gentleman and above all a very skilled and talented lover.“ Charlotte continued to stare.

“I propose bringing him in here, leaving him and you in strict privacy and and you allowing him to give you what you’ve so obviously been craving for months, probably years.”

Charlotte was done with staring. She felt she had nothing to lose from this situation she found herself in. She simply said firmly, “All right then."

At that moment Elaine walked into the lounge room. She was neatly dressed in Charlotte’s white dress. It not only suited her, it fitted her better than it would have its owner. And she had also been attending to her toilette. Her hair was now carefully combed and secured with hairpins. She had made use of lipstick and there were faint traces of makeup. She was a far cry from the bedraggled creature that had come out of the forest over an hour ago.

Both seated women looked at her. “That’s an improvement, I must say,” was Beryl’s comment.

She went on. “We won’t be going just yet. There’s someone from base, waiting out in the car. I’m going to bring him in and he’s going to provide a service for our lady hostess here.” She stood up. “Keep an eye on her while I get him. Don’t worry, in an involved way it’s in the organisation’s interest." Beryl left the room. Elaine, looking puzzled, watched her go.

She turned to Charlotte who was still sitting in her chair with her arms bound. “I take it you two have worked something out between you?”

Charlotte was emphatic. “Let’s say an opportunity has come my way and I’m going to take full advantage of it.” She went on, “You know, when I first saw you I thought you were here to ransack my home and steal everything you could lay hands on. And I was resentful. So far all you’ve taken is my oldest dress. Which I would've given away anyway. And, of course,“ she laughed at this, “You cut up a worn out linen sheet.”

Elaine noted she didn’t seem put out at being tied up, gagged and locked in a wardrobe. Well, she hadn’t been in there for long. Twenty minutes at most. “I’m glad you don’t feel upset about it all,” she said guardedly. She gathered whatever she and Beryl had hatched between them had put this woman on an all-time high.

Beryl came back. With her was a man, fit, reasonably good looking, perhaps in his early thirties. He had an oval face and light straight brown hair. He wore slacks and a carefully ironed, open necked shirt. Elaine vaguely recalled seeing him some years before in her days of liberty. His name she thought was Colin. Charlotte, her arms still bound, stood up and eyed him carefully.

“Ladies. Charlotte,” Beryl was in charge, “This is the man I told you about. I won’t use his name but he is, I assure you, kindly and very accomplished.”

The man’s face reddened slightly in embarrassment. He bowed his head slightly toward her, smiled and murmured, “Ma’am, pleased to have met you. I’m at your service.”

“Get those sashes off her at once,” ordered Beryl as if noticing Charlotte’s bonds for the first time. The two moved forward to untie the sheet bindings. She was free within minutes.

The man suddenly looked serious. “This is definitely not to be rushed and will take some time. We’ll have to move as quickly as we can,” he glanced at Beryl. “If we could have some privacy?” Charlotte held up her hand to breast level and he took it in his.

“My bedroom,” she whispered. The two walked quietly and resolutely towards it. She leading him.

Once inside she stood beside the bed and looked into her partner to be's eyes. “It’s been a long, long time for me and there were some very unsatisfactory experiences before that,” she smiled faintly, “You’ll have to be gentle.”

“I wouldn’t be anything else.” Another smile and she began to undo the waist fastenings of her neat black dress.

Back in the lounge Beryl became brisk and businesslike. “There’s some tidying up to be done here.” She was looking at the discarded lashings. "We don’t want to leave any of this around. And there’s that gag, out on the kitchen sink.” She mused, “We don’t know how long those two’ll be in there.”

Forty minutes later Charlotte and her partner came out of the bedroom. She was smiling calmly, all signs of strain gone from her face. The other two were sitting by the lounge heater which they activated. They had also found Charlotte’s liquor cabinet and had poured themselves a couple of drinks.

“Pour another two if you don’t mind,” said Charlotte cheerfully, “And we’ll all drink a toast to better things and happier times to come.” This was done and there was a brief period of conviviality and relaxation.

“We’d better be on our way,” said Beryl, ever the practical businesswoman. “And you Madam. What will you tell the authorities about the last three hours? They’ll ask for a report,” this last to their hostess.

“Nothing.” Charlotte was adamant. “What’s there to report? The loss of of an old dress I couldn’t wear anyway? One old bed sheet? Oh, and a certain amount of whisky of course, but seriously, there’s nothing to report. Certainly nothing I want to talk about.”

She went on, “Though you might report to the Southern Connection that if they want the services of a summa cum laude Economics graduate from good ole Central Uni there’s one here.” Perhaps the whisky was having some effect.

Or perhaps, in vino veritas.

Beryl smiled, “Perhaps. Who knows? I’d hoped you’d take this attitude. One of my reasons for organising things the way I did. And as to that last, once again indeed, who knows?”

They went.


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