A Gentlemen Called...

It had been a memorable February evening – he had taken me to a wonderful restaurant, we had seen a show, and then danced at a nightclub before he had escorted me home.  I had dressed to impress him as well – a long black dress which hugged my hips before flowing gracefully to the ground, with a strapless body that raised my chest without being too revealing.  The dress was sleeveless, so I had also worn a pair of long black opera gloves, made of silk, and wrapped a long black chiffon scarf around my neck to keep the chill out before putting on an opera cape over the top.

As I say, a wonderful evening, and as we kissed on the steps that led to the entrance to my apartment I did not want the night to ever end.  It had to, however, and we gazed at each other before he turned and walked down the street.  Looking back now, I wonder if it would have been different if I had invited him in, but what is the point of living in the past?

So, I went into my apartment and tried to turn the light on.  Well, when it did not work, I assumed the fuse had blown and did nothing except swear slightly and make my way to the bedroom.  Before I opened the door, however, I heard something falling to the ground in the front room.  I thought it was Nibbles knocking something over, so I went to have a look in case something was broken.  As I stepped into the room, however – that was when the night really began.

A hand was placed over my mouth, and I heard a man saying “Please, do not struggle or scream – I would for someone as beautiful as you to be hurt in any way.”  The light came on, and as I was turned round I saw a blonde haired man standing there and smiling at me.  He was taller than me, slim build, and wearing a black roll neck sweater and trousers.  I could see the soft leather gloves he had on his hands as well.

“You are beautiful,” he said as he looked at me,” and I wish you no harm.  I merely wish to relieve you of the burden of wondering how you may keep your valuables safe, and if you answer my questions then I can be out of here more quickly.  So, are you going to help me?”

Well, he was a bit of a charmer, and despite the fact he had me tightly by the arm I did get the feeling that he was genuine in what he was saying, so I slowly nodded.  “Good,” he said as he released my arm from his grip, “Please take off your cape and leave it on the back of that couch there.”

“A beautiful dress,” he said.  “Thanks,” I said without thinking, and then looked at him.  “So, what are your plans – truss me up while you turn over the place?”

“Only if I have to,” he said with a smile, “But I would rather be gentle than rough.  Please, take off your scarf and hand it to me – I am afraid I must take some precautions.”

I had a horrible feeling I knew what he meant by precautions, but I knew I had no choice, so I unwound the scarf and handed it to him.  As I Said, it was made of chiffon, the material opaque and about four foot in length.   He took it, shook it out and then said “Please, turn round; I want to secure your hands.”

Well, I had no choice, did I?  I turned and put my hands behind my back, as he took my left wrists and tied the end of the scarf around it, over my gloves.  He then pulled it over, and wound the scarf around my other wrist, drawing the two of them together as he wound the material round and between them.  I did not anything so flimsy could be so strong, but it held firm as he tied the final knot and turned me back round.

“May I fix you a drink?”  That was not what I expected him to say, so to my own surprise I asked for a gin and tonic.  He nodded and walked over to where I kept my drinks, taking only two minutes before he returned with two glasses, one for me and one for him.  “Allow me,” he said as he held the glass up and allowed me to use the straw he had put inside, “I always a find a drink helps after you have had a shock.”

“Very thoughtful,” I said as I sipped, “are you this considerate towards everybody you rob?”  “I try to be,” he said as he sipped his own whisky and soda, “especially when they are as beautiful as you.  Now, suppose you tell if there are any hiding places in this room you use?  I will find them anyway, but I abhor a mess.”

“May I sit down first,” I asked, and he nodded as he led me to a large armchair, helping me to sit before placing my glass by my side on a table.  I told him of a hidden place in the bookcase, and watched as he quickly located and opened it.  As he searched through the contents, I tried to find the knot holding the scarf around my wrists, but was unable to – and even if I could, my gloved fingers meant they were slipping over the sheer material.

“Anywhere else,” he asked as he pocketed a number of small pieces of jewellery, and I shook my head.  “Well then,” he said as he sat down opposite me, “Let us sit and talk for a while before we move on – the night is young, and you seem like a knowledgeable young girl.”

I cannot remember how long we sat there and talked, about music, books and other matters, but as we did so I could not help but start to admire this man who had broken into my apartment.  He had been polite, erudite and calm, yet I knew he was in control and in charge of me while he was there.  It was a strange, unreal feeling, but the most unreal part was that I was relaxed and even enjoying it.  So much so that, when I kicked off my shoes, he placed them together beside the chair I was sitting in.

“Well,” he eventually said as he looked at his watch, “time is getting on and as pleasant as this conversation is we need to move on.  Please, stand up – I still need to search your bedroom, and I need to ensure you are not able to raise the alarm while I make my getaway.”

“Do you say that to all the girls,” I laughed as I looked at him.  “Only those I rob,” he said as he stood up and took me by the arm.  “Please, after you.”

He escorted me to my bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp as I sat down on the bed.  He took a quick look round, and seeing my jewellery boxes on the dressing table walked over and opened them.  “Very nice,” he said as he turned round, “but before that I think you need to be comfortable.”

“Oh,” I said as I looked at him, “and how to you intend to do that?”  His response was to go to a large wardrobe and open the door, looking in and removing a large number of scarves I keep on hangers inside.  “With these,” he said as he held some up, “in a few moments.  I think, however, you need to get out of your dress and into something more suitable.  Stand up and turn round.”

Well, how could I refuse – my arms were aching anyway.  I stood up and allowed him to unite my hands, and as I rubbed my wrists I said “Thank you.”  “My pleasure,” he said by reply with a smile, “Why don’t you take that dress and those gloves off, and put on that nightdress you tried to hide under the pillow?  I’m sure you cope with a bra and panties on underneath for one night.”

“How thoughtful,” I said slightly sarcastically as I removed my gloves.  “I suppose a little privacy is out of order?”

“Why do you think I said you should not be naked,” he said with a smile.  Well, I know when I am beaten, so I reached round and unfastened the rear of my dress, allowing it to slip to the floor as I stepped out.  To his credit, he did turn his head as I picked up the nightdress and slipped it over my head.  It was a silk teddy, pale blue, and hugged my skin as I pulled the short sleeves over my shoulders.

“Very nice,” he said as he looked at me.  “Please, fix your pillows so that you will be comfortable, then lie down and rest your head on them.”

I need to describe my bed – it is a double one, with an ornate metal headstand painted white.  The metal looped and turned in on itself, in a pattern reminiscent of a tangled bush.  There is no footboard, and I always keep a number of short pillows at the head as well as my two large ones.  I took those and placed one up against the headboard and the second on an angle against that and the mattress, with the smaller ones at either side.  As I settled into place, I watched as he took two scarves out of the wardrobe.

One was similar to the one he had used earlier, only velvet and a deep, deep red.  I wear it with the long sleeved velvet dress that I bought for a recent party.  The other was a brilliant, luminous light blue, about the same length and made of silk.  He walked over and sat on the bed, looking into my eyes with his own clear green ones and saying “Ready?”

“Not really, but do I have a choice?  How do you want to do this?”

All he did was smile as he took my left hand and gently tied one end of the red scarf around it.  I could feel it tightening around my skin, but offered no resistance as he took my wrist and pointed it towards the headboard, wrapping the free end through the metalwork and securing my wrist against the metal.

Walking round the bed, he repeated the process with the blue scarf against my other wrist, so that I was tied with my arms spread eagled above me against the head board.  He smiled as he looked at me, and said “Just wait there a minute,” before turning his attention to my jewellery boxes.  I looked from side to side – the material was not uncomfortable against my skin, but it was tight and I knew I was not going anywhere.

I watched him pocket a lot of my rings and earrings, before he closed the boxes and turned his attention back to me.  “How do you feel,” he said as I sat up and let him fluff up the pillows under me.

“Secure,” I said with a smile as I laid my head back down.  “So, are you going to go now?”

“I’m not quite finished yet,” he said as he went back to the wardrobe and took out a black and white checked silk square that I sued sometimes to tie over my hair while cleaning.  Rolling it into a band, he pulled my ankles together and wrapped the scarf around them, pulling them together and making sure they were secured.  He then used another small scarf, a pale blue one I sometimes tied around my hair when it is in a pigtail, and tied it between my ankles, tightening the first scarf in place.   It felt like a pair of cuffs were around them, but it was smooth and soft rather than harsh and metallic.

Returning to the wardrobe, he came back with two larger headscarves.  The first was a Hermes scarf, a large cream coloured silk square with a pattern showing horses heads from various angles, while the second was a large paisley patterned square that I wore around my neck as a cravat at work on occasions.  Again, I watched as he folded the scarves into bands and used them to secure my legs together, the Hermes above my knees and the other scarf below.  Walking back and forth, he took a sixties print scarf, a mass of colour swirls on silk, and tied it between my legs, one end around the Hermes and the other below.

I stretched my legs out and looked at them, held tightly together and yet not uncomfortable, as he went back to the wardrobe and took out two more pieces of material.  I recognised one as a blue bandana I wore for work outs, a checked pattern in white on the cloth, while the other was a small white square of cotton.  I had a sinking feeling I knew what was coming next, but he had been so charming, so kind – and I was not exactly in a position to argue with him about it.  “Is it absolutely necessary to do this?” I said as I looked at him, but he simple nodded as he folded the small square and brushed my hair away from my face.  “Hush,” he said as he stroked my cheek, “Just open wide and let me finish so that I can take your beautiful jewellery.”

Well, I really had no choice – I allowed him to push the folded cloth into my mouth, the taste of the cotton against my tongue as it gently pushed it down.  I watched as he rolled the bandana into a band, tied a knot in the middle and placed the lump against my lips.  I opened my mouth and let him push the knot between my lips, closing them around it as he reached behind my head and tied the two ends together as the cloth caressed my cheeks.

“There,” he said as he looked down on me, “I hope that is not too uncomfortable.”  I had to admit that, despite the fact my wrist were pinioned above my head and to my side and my legs were encircled in bands of silk that held like steel, I was not stiff or uncomfortable, so I nodded in response.  Leaning over, he kissed me on the forehead and turned the light off, leaving me alone as he left the room, and then the apartment.  I lay there, resigning myself to a night like this, and hoping my boyfriend kept his promise to come and pick me up in the morning.  The knot and cloth in my mouth was slowly getting wetter with my saliva, but I knew there was no way to get either out of my mouth - not on my own...

That was about three days ago, and fortunately he did keep his promise to come and pick me up.  The look on his face when he saw me lying there, asleep with the scarves holding me in place, must have been something, as was the look on mine when he said my name and woke me up.  The police came, but I could only give a vague description, not enough to catch him – a small lie on my part, possibly, but he had been so very charming to me.

In fact, he had awoken something else in me as well – something I want to discuss with my boyfriend when he calls tonight.  After all, I had been left helpless, and I have to admit I liked that feeling.

I wanted to feel that again, but in the arms of someone I trust to be gentle with me.