Amy Stark was a thirty-three year old librarian who worked in a regional branch of a city library. She was slim, athletically built and slightly above average height. A thin face with pointed chin was framed by dark brown hair in a page boy cut. She was considered a sensible practical person by nature.
Amy lived in a one-bedroom apartment in a unit block in the inner city area. She was unmarried but enjoyed the company of men and had had affairs. These had become less frequent of late and she put this down to a gradually rising expectation of what she looked for in a male companion. She sometimes wondered if she would ever have a permanent partner. She liked the idea of one but was not ready to lower her standards.
This early evening she was walking along the block hallway to the unit of a man named Raymond Lebrun. He was slightly older than herself and she had known him for several years. More of an acquaintance than a friend, he was understood to have a high technical position in a local finance investment firm. He was firmly built, not greatly handsome and still had a full head of hair. He was thought to be of an intellectual turn of mind and a gentleman. And he was very much an avid reader.
Because of this last, Raymond was in a literary discussion group. As a librarian Amy had been able to help him, getting him the necessary books he needed for meetings with his fellow book lovers. And tonight she was on her way to his apartment with one such work in her hands.
Reaching his door, she knocked. No answer. She knew he would be home and knocked again, somewhat impatiently.
Finally it opened, revealing two women she had never seen before.
One, standing in the doorway, was solidly well built and in her early forties. She had a square, determined looking face, a firm chin and looked as if she was in charge. The other, partly behind her, was about thirty, thin and narrow faced. Both were wearing belted trench coats and narrow brimmed hats. And black leather gloves. Amy was surprised, and also, a little apprehensive.
The first woman looked at her, then down at the book she was holding in her hands. “Ah. You're his book loving friend, I see. Well then, you’d better come in, my dear.”
She stood aside to let the caller enter. But Amy was not so sure. “Is Raymond here?” she asked, “Are you friends of his?”
The second woman leaned forward, said something about going out to the street, then stepped through the doorway and headed off down the hallway. The first woman reached out and clamped her hand on Amy’s upper arm, “You can come in and see Raymond yourself,” and started to pull her into the apartment.
Amy was having none of this. “Now just a minute,” she began, “Who are you? And what’s going on here?”
She got no further. The thin woman had only gone a few feet down the hall. She stopped, turned and came silently up behind Amy. She clamped one black gloved hand over the caller’s mouth and with the other, pinioned her upper arms. Despite her small size she was very strong - and capable.
Rendered helpless and speechless, Amy was impelled through the doorway. The boss lady stood aside for this, glanced swiftly up and down the hallway, quickly picked up the book Amy had dropped, then quietly closed and locked the door. In less than a minute Amy Stark had been seized, overpowered and hustled out of sight. And no one had seen a thing.
Amy was pushed right inside the apartment. She was held against a wall beside a small side table, on which was a carry bag. “And now Emily, my dear, it becomes unfortunately necessary to tie you up,” said the big woman, taking some items out of the bag. The gloved hand was removed from her mouth.
“Now look here,” burst out Amy. “Just what do you think you’re doing?" She was outraged and not a little frightened at what was happening. She overlooked the mistake with her name.
These were the last words she was to utter for quite a while. A wad gag of damp folded towelling was thrust into her mouth, from then on she could only mew. Amy thought rapidly. These two were stronger than her, and obvious professionals. She would get nowhere struggling with them, best let them do what they wanted to do. She stood passively. And wondered why they called her “Emily.”
Her captors, no doubt appreciative of her changed attitude, got on with it. Taking carefully torn strips of sheet from the carry bag, they tied her crossed wrists behind her back, then bound her arms to her sides with several of the longer pieces. Next they secured her forearms with several lashings around her slim waist. Finally a short wide strip around the lower part of her face to keep her gag in. Seeing she was being cooperative they bound with some care and neatness.
While this was going on Amy stared around the room. And saw, with a start, the object of her coming to the apartment. Raymond Lebrun was seated on a solid wooden chair at the end of the room. He had been securely bound to it with similar strips of sheet such as were being used on her. Also, like herself, he had a very effective gag in his mouth. She also saw his eyes were closed. As if he were unconscious. She wondered: What is going on here? What are these people doing?
“There,” said the lady in charge when they had finished, “You look as pretty as a picture Emily. Now let’s find a place where we can sit you down and ask a few questions.” She looked around the room. “As you can see, we’ve already been talking to your gentleman friend. He’s erh, now resting you might say. Ah, there’s a chair exactly like the one he was so co-operative in. That should do nicely.” Amy was hustled toward a similar wooden chair alongside a table.
Forced to sit in a seat the same as the one Raymond was tied to, Amy’s ankles were tied and then her legs bound above the knees. Lastly several long strips were used to lash her to the high wooden back. The thin woman put a large satchel on the table out of which she took pens, paper, recording equipment and several other items. The two then pulled up a couple of other chairs and sat facing her.
“And now we can talk,” said the big woman. And how, thought Amy, can I say anything with this in my mouth? She saw them open a box on the table and take out a prepared surgical syringe and some cloths.
“This Emily, is a recently developed truth drug,” explained the boss lady, “Quite painless, no ill effects and within minutes you’ll be telling us every single thing we wish to know.” Amy’s neck was antiseptically swabbed and she was immediately injected. As promised she felt nothing. Within seconds she began to lose consciousness. Shortly, she would be in a state to reveal whatever was asked of her.
This operation, carried out by these two very professional ladies was proceeding efficiently and correctly. There was only one thing wrong.
With Amy Stark they had the wrong woman.
The lady they thought they were dealing with was named Emily Stanton. She was Raymond’s immediate superior in the firm where they both worked and had been entrusted with very secret data, codes and passwords. And they wanted this information.
Emily was as book orientated as Raymond. They were both in the same book discussion group and co-operated closely on literary matters. The two had even had a brief relationship which had ended very abruptly the night before.
The organisation of the two professional women knew most of this. Due to phone and electronic hacking they knew a great deal about her. The only difficulty was that they didn't know what Emily Stanton actually looked like. Nor were they aware she and her very recent boyfriend had parted company the evening before.
They had learned she was expected to visit him that evening. With a book he needed. She lived about two blocks away. What they didn’t know was that she had decided not to come but had not told Raymond. Or anyone. Emily was like that.
Consequently, when Amy turned up at the front door with a book in her hands at approximately the right time they decided this must be Emily Stanton. And so they called her Emily.
These two trench coated ladies were a highly professional pair. They represented a widespread organisation that was greatly interested in Raymond and Emily’s firm. Or more particularly in siphoning off some of its funds and some very secret information it held.
They had invaded Raymond’s home hours before, tied him up, drugged him heavily and subjected him to an intensive interrogation. They learned much but not everything they needed. Much of it was of no use to them at all. One item they found out, and considered an irrelevancy, was that Raymond was a bondage enthusiast and he had hoped to try this on his very recent lady friend Emily.
The reality was that Raymond, visiting Emily the night before, had produced a rope and suggested he tie her wrists. The result was an outraged outburst and the termination of the fledgling relationship on the spot. The two questioners learned that the affair was ended but without any details as to why. They dismissed it as unimportant anyway. Though they did wonder if it would stop her visiting this night. And then Amy had appeared at the appointed time with a book in her hands and was assumed to be Emily.
And so we return to the trench coated pair and the now completely anaesthetised Amy.
And after nearly two hours of exhaustive questioning they were in the end convinced they had the wrong woman. They were far from pleased. Their whole evening had been unsuccessful, in fact wasted.
Normally subjects of truth drug questioning woke up with very little idea of what they had said. But these two, thinking they were dealing with his former lady friend, had asked so many questions about Raymond that much of it remained in Amy’s consciousness. And a great deal of it was about his personal tastes and inclinations.
Amy woke up many hours later in a bed in a local regional hospital. A nurse told her that the police had brought her in and they would like to interview her in the morning.
And that is what happened. After breakfast a plainclothes detective visited her. He was polite, even kindly. He told her that they had received an anonymous call about a home invasion in Raymond’s apartment. They had found her and him bound hand and foot and completely unconscious. They had been taken to the hospital as a matter of routine. He asked about her capture and anaesthetising but little about what she had been questioned about. He said truth drug victims rarely remembered anything. Later she was given a medical examination and declared well enough to go home. She arrived back in time to prepare herself an early evening meal.
She received two visits from the police in the following days. They told her that, whatever her assailants had been after, they had been unsuccessful. They surmised correctly her seizure and capture had been a case of mistaken identity.
But Amy knew she retained quite a lot of what had been said to her during her drugging and questioning. Particularly information her two assailants had got out of Raymond who had been questioned before her. Nobody asked her about it and she kept it to herself.
For the next five days Amy remained quietly at home. But she thought a great deal about what had happened to her and Raymond that night. And what she had learned about him. Particularly about his interest in bondage. The two trench coats had been very explicitly detailed about him in their efforts to interrogate her. Who would have thought this long standing neighbourly acquaintance of hers would be of such a turn of mind?
On the evening of the fifth day she decided to act. She dressed exactly as she had the night of her capture. The same short winter skirt and top and sensible shoes. Lastly, she put on a shiny black raincoat, buttoned to the throat. And a matching rain hat. It had been raining steadily all day and she looked like a woman about to go out into the dismal evening weather who had sensibly equipped herself for it. And also one who had learned about Raymond’s tastes for black ladies rainwear.
Amy strode along the unit complex hallway as she had five nights before. Only this time she had no book. Both hands were thrust deep into the pockets of her raincoat. She knocked firmly at Raymond’s door.
Raymond answered promptly. And gaped when he saw his visitor, and how she was dressed. “Good evening Raymond. I think it’s time we had a talk.” Amy walked forward. He stood aside to let her enter. And locked the door after her.
She walked into the centre of his lounge area, turned and stood facing him, her hands still in her raincoat pockets. “Raymond, in view of what happened to us last week, and what I’ve learned, I’d like to speak to you. We should sit down.” She looked around. By an odd coincidence they seated themselves in the two heavy wooden chairs they had each been tied to five nights before. Amy’s raincoat rustled as she settled. Raymond could hardly take his eyes off it. They faced each other.
Amy didn’t waste words. “Well Raymond, you like to tie ladies up do you? And to gag them too?” He stared at her.
She smiled,”Don’t worry. I’m not like your last lady friend. She didn’t like the idea at all, did she?” She laughed. Meanwhile, Raymond’s mind was racing. Clearly she knew a lot about him. He wondered how much. She went on, “I’ve even had partners before who were somewhat that way inclined, though we never got far into it. But I’ve sometimes wondered what it'd be really like to be tightly, securely bound hand and foot. Gagged too, even blindfolded and then subjected to a good vigorous lovemaking.”
Raymond decided he could not credibly deny his feelings. But also to be cautious about what he actually said. “Well,” he said quietly, “Perhaps I am inclined in that direction. But not perhaps as much as you might think.”
Amy laughed and then tried another tack. She shifted the conversation to his social and sexual life. He was hesitant at first but gradually she drew him out. He was, as she had suspected, a shy hesitant man, despite his intellect and the trusted position he held.
Raymond, for his part, felt horribly on the defensive. He was well aware that those trench coated bitches of five nights ago with their very effective truth drug had gotten out of him a great deal of information about his sexual inclinations as well as his firm’s secret data. How much had they passed on to this woman whom they had drugged and questioned later the same evening? Quite a lot by the sound of it. He was now seeing Amy, who he had always looked on as a pleasant and companionable neighbour in a whole new light.
Meanwhile Amy carried on. “Well then, it looks as if your love life has been pretty deprived of recent months. As has mine, I can tell you.” This last was added with great emphasis. She continued in a note almost of anger, “How long is it since either of us has had a good decent fuck? In my case not since last year. I hope you’ve been doing better.”
He said softly, “No. I haven’t.” He added, “It’s been a pretty bleak time for me too.”
Amy stood up suddenly and began to pace around in front of her startled but fully attentive host. Her raincoat rustled softly. She was fully aware of the impression she was creating.
“Raymond, you’ve got a taste for bondage. The sight of a bound woman turns you on. Well, you’re not the first to feel that way. It’s something of an instinct with many men.” She stopped right in front of him and pushed both hands deep into her pockets. “My experience is rather more limited, but.. “ here she smiled, “I’d like to try.” The smile broadened, “I think it might benefit both of us. Don’t you?”
He looked up at her, “Would you? Could we?”
“We could.”
Ten minutes later they were in his bedroom. A stop at the linen cupboard had provided them with a very worn cotton towel. A series of nicks with nail scissors on one end enabled them to tear it into strips. About a dozen.
Amy sat on the bed, her raincoat crinkling as she did so. She removed her shoes and placed them neatly side by side underneath it. She then stood up and undid the three bottom buttons of her waterproof. Pulling aside the flaps, she undid the catch of her skirt, unzipped it and slipped it off. And removed her knickers. She folded and placed these carefully on his chest of drawers, alongside her rain hat.
She smiled at her partner-to-be in bondage. “For this, our first time, I’ll give the orders. I’d prefer it. And I think it’ll be better that way.” He nodded with a faint smile. At that stage of the game he’d have given her the world if she’d asked for it and it was his to give.
She smoothed her raincoat. “This is as much as I’d like to take off for now. Later, as the situation develops we’ll try other variations. And anyway, I suspect at the moment you’d like nothing better but to make love to a bound, shiny black rain coated woman. Wouldn’t you?” She looked impishly up into his face. Raymond certainly would.
“Of course, darling, of course. Whatever you say.” he whispered huskily, “Like you said, Angel, you’re calling the shots.”
“Well then my love,” she smiled and turned her back on him. “Tie me up.”
He reached for one of the torn towel strips they had left on the bed. He pulled down the sleeves of her raincoat until her hands were half covered and then crossed her wrists and tied them securely. The waterproof fabric whispered. Next he bound her arms to her sides with several strips, both below and above her bust, causing her breasts to jut out in a shimmering mound. Lastly, two strips around her slim waist, securing her forearms. “Mmm. Very neat I must say,” she murmured, “And I might add I’m comfortable but quite helpless. You know how to render a captive woman helpless. Don’t you?”
He picked up a final wide strip. “No. Not a gag, if that’s what you had in mind. Remember, I want to be able to talk throughout this experience.” She sat on the bed, her raincoat rustling, “But you can use that to blindfold me. It’ll go round my head several times.”
“As to myself, I’ve been moistening steadily ever since you started. But if you’ve got any lubricant, you’d better use it on that straining erection under your trousers. And,” she added, “Don’t you dare ejaculate prematurely on me.”
Lastly, she sat on the bed, her arms secured, blindfolded and ready for penetration. “Mmmm. Gets more delightful by the minute, doesn’t it?” She stretched, her waterproof crackled. “As for me,” she instructed, “Slowly, carefully, lower me onto this bed of yours. Pull my raincoat straight underneath me. That way we’ll avoid stains on the coverlet. As for you, I don’t really care how you are. Fully clothed, partly or quite naked.” She pushed herself further onto the bed. "Just don’t take too long about it. Madame is becoming impatient. And, be gentle, if you please.”
The next hour was just pure heaven for two beginning bondage devotees.
Two hours later Amy and Raymond sat on his lounge. They were both sipping mugs of coffee. He was fully if somewhat untidily dressed. She wore her skirt and top. Her raincoat and rain hat lay neatly folded on the floor beside her.
“Well,” she murmured, “I think we could say that was very successful and satisfactory.”
“Very much so,” he agreed, “And I want to both continue it, and develop it.”
He went on, “You know at first I was angry with those two trench coats for what they did. Now I realise they really brought us together.”
She smiled, “They did us a favour. Didn’t they?” They both laughed.