A little tied up

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A little tied up

Post by EvilSweep on Wed Mar 30, 2016 10:37 pm

This is a tale previously posted elsewhere (at Deviant art under the username: EvilSweep) that I thought the members of this group might enjoy. Most of the heroines in my tales tend to dress in uniforms or buttoned-up outfits of some descriptions that would seem to chime with the general theme of this site.
Based on feedback/ level of interest to my work I could be persuaded to pen something that is designed specifically to cater for readers of this site.
Hope you enjoy,..



“Damn and blast it!”
WPC Harris was running late. 
Again.
Two hours late.
Two hours and twenty three minutes late to be precise.
Dressed in her starched shirt sleeves, and precious little else, Stevie was frantically rushing around the bedroom desperately attempting to locate the disparate missing parts of her uniform
Suddenly she heard a crash from a location somewhere in the vicinity of the back door.
“That damn cat” She muttered under her breath as she strained to fasten the top button of her collar.
Seconds later that crash was followed by a larger, more expansive noise that sounded like a herd of elephants had decided to move into the local area and were paying house calls to all their new neighbours.
“Hey Thunderpants! Knock it off, can’t you see Mommy’s busy?” WPC Harris called out in an exacerbated tone as she struggled to climb into a pair of uncooperative trousers.
Grabbing her police jacket from the back of her door, Stevie padded off in search of the cause of the disturbance (and hopefully her tie,..)
The corridor was dark, the young trainee officer having been too busy/ easily distracted to buy a new bulb when the fuse had last blown (sometime last century,..)
Eventually her eyes adjusted to the light (or lack thereof) and she was astonished to find herself standing face to face with a masked intruder.
As if the torn prison fatigues he wore and the stocking on his head were not amazing enough, it was the battered service revolver in his hand that quickly earned Stevie’s rapt and undivided attention. Slowly the officer raised her arms with her palms extended in, what she hoped would be acknowledged as the internationally recognized gesture of surrender.
“Thunderpants?” the stranger inquired with a sideways glance.
“It’s the name of my cat.” She explained, not daring to move a muscle.
He appeared to consider this for a moment.
“It was my niece’s idea. Imagine my relief that she wasn’t a dog,.. the cat that is,.. not my niece,.. at least I don’t have to call her name in public. Thunderpants! Put down that postman,..” Stevie was often accused of talking too much when she was nervous and currently found that words were spilling out of her mouth.
Taking a moment to compose herself, WPC Stevie Harris stared at the barrel of the villain’s weapon with a fascinated eye and rigidly set jaw.
“Why don’t you take your finger off that trigger” She said, her voice trying to conceal her mounting concern “You don’t want it to go off, accidentally”
“Hands up” He ordered muzzily.
“My hands ARE up” She replied sweetly “You can see they’re up can’t you? Look. Right up here”
And, as if to emphasize the point she twiddled her fingers as though about to commence a piano recital.
“Why don’t you put that pistol down? Look, there’s a table over there. I’m no interior designer, but I think a gun would go very nicely in that fruit bowl” She suggested warmly nodding in its general direction.
“You don’t keep fruit in the fruit bowl?” 
"Apparently not" She said suddenly noticing her police issue tie 
"I've been looking for this everywhere. Do you mind if I put it on?"
"Be my guest"
“Look, I don’t know why you’re here, but I promise I won’t cry out, or try to make a run for it.” She said clipping the black and white checked neckerchief in place at her collar.
“That’s a relief”
There followed a lengthy pause.
“Why are you here?” replacing her hands in the surrender position.
“Well here is as good a place as any. Truth is I just need somewhere to lay low for a while”
“Oh,..  Well,.. Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?” She asked in a shaky voice, unsure what else to say.
“Tea?”
"In case the accent didn't give it away. I'm from the North. My people prescribe tea on the NHS.”
He found himself saying that he would very much welcome a drink. Well, It had been a stressful morning what with the prison break out and all the hullabaloo that followed,..
Stevie busied herself making a cup of tea for her captor, taking care to limit herself to slow, deliberate movements.
“So,” She said as they waited for the kettle to boil. “From the state of your outfit, would it be safe to assume that you have recently absconded from custody?”
“Maybe this is my costume for a fancy dress party?”
“Possibly. But it certainly looks (and smells) like the genuine article. Have you been gone long?”
“Not long enough”
“Where are you from?”
“I’d rather not say”
“I don’t suppose you’d tell me your name?”
“I really shouldn’t. It’s kind of rule 101 for escaped prisoners”
“Hmm, well, you don’t sound local,..” She said trying to place the accent 
“Anyone ever tell you that you ask allot of questions?”
“Frequently. But as you can probably ascertain from the uniform, I am a police officer. It’s very much part of my job remit” She explained.
“Well, I don’t like it. And if you don’t cut it out I’m going to have to insist we sit in silence”
Stevie (wisely) decided to keep her own counsel, at least for the moment.
That moment lasted for less than a minute.
“Really? Okay, well I can see the logic in that. But look, you’re going to have to lower the weapon sometime. Why don’t we compromise? You put the gun down and I’ll let you tie me up”
“Tie you up?” 
“Why yes. I mean isn’t that what criminals usually do to their hostage to stop them running away?”
“That seems reasonable. I suppose,..”
“Excellent. I’m so glad that we could come to an understanding”
“Sure. No problem,..” He spluttered “Wait, sorry, no,.. I mean, I don’t want to cause a fuss, but you actuallywant to be tied up?” 
“Okay Mr. Convict, I’ll level with you. The fact is that this is the third time in as many days that I’ve been late to work and I figure that this time I need a really good excuse if I’m going to keep my job,.. I've got my student loan to consider,.. and then there's the trip to Italy,..”
“So where do I fit in?” He asked interrupting
“Ah, well, I'm glad you asked, you see, in many ways your arrival couldn’t have been more fortuitous. After all, they can’t very well sack me for poor timekeeping while I’m being held hostage now can they?”
“I guess,..?” He replied, sounding unconvinced,..
“,..And, of course, whilst I’m all trussed up like the heroine in some tawdry adventure movie you’ll be free to get some rest, grab yourself a bite to eat,.. and possibly a shower (hint, hint!),..”
The logic seemed impeachable and the convict said as much.
“Okay, I’m game. So,.. erm,.. What do you suggest I use?” He asked suddenly sounding very unsure of himself.
“I think I’ve got some rope left over from when I moved in. Do you want me to check?!" She suggested, a little too eagerly 
He nodded trying to hide his growing interest in proceedings,..
“Awesome! It’s upstairs in the spare room”
Stevie felt unsteady as she walked ahead of the villain climbing the stairs. For some reason, the prospect of being restrained was proving to be an unexpectedly pleasing one.
He watched from the doorway, a gun in one hand and a cup of tea in the other as Stevie emerged from the cupboard carrying a handful of cord.
“There. This should be plenty” She said with an enigmatic smile dropping the coil of rope onto the bed with a dull thud.
“So,” She said warmly, almost skipping “How do you want me?” she said clasping her hands behind her back. The man paused. A slightly puzzled frown creased what she could see of his face behind the stocking mask.
"Most women in this situation would be frightened."
“I’m not most women. Besides, I don’t think you intend to hurt me. It’s hard to tell under that hood of yours, but you seem to have a kindly face”
“Would M’lady care to take a seat?”
“Thank you kindly Jeeves” Stevie obeyed mechanically. True to her word she offered no resistance as he ushered her over to the bedside mirror. It was basic wooden chair, with a straight, narrow back and reminded the convict of a school class room. Silently Stevie sat down and with an air of mounting excitement placed her arms behind her around the back of the chair.
The whole situation felt vaguely surreal. Almost like an out of body experience. After all, this was the kind of thing that happened to the damsels in old silent movies or snooping dames in low rent gangster flicks, not rookie police officers at ten in the morning. Shouldn’t she be dressed in a billowing high collared frock, or a well cut trench coat and trilby hat? Likewise she would expect her kidnapper to be draped in rich, purple capes sporting a pencil thin mustache and an improbably tall top hat?
Instead her abductor was a tall, athletic man in his early thirties whose mud spattered boots and torn prison fatigues betrayed the fact that he was a wanted fugitive currently on the run from the law, whilst Stevie, as the brave, if somewhat diminutive heroine, was dressed in the starched uniform of a police constable.  
She glanced over her shoulder at her erstwhile captor with something approaching curiosity as he wrapped the length of frayed cord around her shirt cuffs.  He smiled reassuringly.
“Well, this certainly beats desk duty back at the station” She grunted involuntarily as the cord constricted around her slender wrists.
“Sorry” He apologized
“Don’t worry, I’m not made of glass. Besides it’s got to look convincing if I’m going to still have a job tomorrow,..”
“As you say,..” He replied happily
“I suppose it would be a waste of time trying to convince you to give yourself up?”
"Would that be before, or after I finish tying you up?"
"Either would suit really"
“It would” He said drawing the knot tighter, “..Be a waste of time that is. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea..”
“That’s an interesting choice of words. You mean you’re not tying me up?”
“Well,.. obviously I am doing that. But what I meant to say was that, aside from the inconvenience, I don’t intend on doing you any harm,..” He spluttered tripping over the words.
“Provided I do as I am told?” She replied in a matter of fact tone that belied her situation
“Well,.. yes” He stuttered attempting to regain a little of his former composure. After all, he reasoned to himself. Shouldn’t the kidnapper in this scenario have a little more control over the situation? He got the distinct impression he wasn’t getting the level of respect his status as the ‘man with the gun’ warranted. 
“Ha, ha! It’s fine. An occupational hazard if you will,.. Besides, I seem to recall it was my suggestion in the first place,..”
“And I was grateful for the advice”
“Aww, you’re too kind, well, I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time”
"And now?" Stevie gasped as the cords were drawn tight 
"It's still kinda' cool I guess. I feel a little like Nancy Drew" she explained as he cut another length of cord.
Stevie allowed her captor to place her feet together before wrapping the rope around her ankles and over her winter socks. With a quick tug he secured the knot and fed the excess material though the loop provided.
“There” He said with an effort “I hope it isn’t too tight”
“I’m sure I’ll survive” She said shuffling in her seat, exploring the new environment and trying to get used to her reduced circumstances.
Having bound her hands and feet, he began looping coils of rope about the police officers waist, securing her to the back of the chair. 
"I should warn you, this might be a little uncomfortable,.." he said performing a shank knot which he gradually tightened around her plump waist pressing her lower back against the chair's frame causing the police officer to grunt involuntarily.
“That’s okay. It’s probably a sign I should cut down on my oats.”
“It’s none of my business. But I think you’ve got a fine figure”
“You’re right. It is none of your business.” But a compliment was still a compliment and when she was sure her gaoler wasn’t looking Stevie smiled to herself.
“So,.. how am I doing?”
“With the kidnap?” she asked, a little unsure.
“Sure”
“Pretty good I guess. I mean I’m not going anywhere,..” She said looking down at her thoroughly restrained body her chest straining at the cords. 
“And these ropes are certainly doing wonders for my posture”
“So would you recommend this as an exercise for chiropractors?”
“Possibly the kinkier ones. So, what do you intend on doing now I’m all tied up?.. “
"Well, Miss,.. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,.."
“WPC Harris is fine”
“Okay Ms. Harris, this is the first chance I’ve had to sleep in a real bed in quite some time. So I’m really looking forward to catching up on some shut eye," replied the convict. 
“No one’s stopping you”
“And you don’t mind if I borrow your bed?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks” he said sitting on the edge of the bed removing his heavy work boots “Can I trust you not to try anything foolish whilst I’m asleep?”
“You mean like try to escape?”
“For instance, yes”
“Well I’m not promising anything. I would be failing in my duty somewhat if I don’t at least try, although I don’t anticipate much success. You’ve done a most admirable job immobilizing me”
“Why thank you. I got a badge for my knot tying when I was in the scouts.”
“I’m not sure this is the kind of thing Baden Powell had in mind when he conceived of the movement,..”
“Ha, ha! Okay, I’m going to take a nap. But I need to make sure you don’t shout the place down whilst I’m asleep”
“You can rely upon me to be quiet” 
“That would be asking a lot”
“You don’t trust me? I’m hurt” 
“Try not to take it personally. So, as much fun as this has been, I’m afraid I am going to have to gag you”
“Okay. If you insist” Her demeanor displayed an expression of pleasant composure.
“You’re being remarkably calm about it”
“Well I’m hardly in any position to say no am I? Besides, it’s all part of the experience”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, growing up I used to love reading all the Enid Blyton books, Her heroines were always being gagged whenever they was tied up by art thieves, smugglers and the like.”
“Still, you seem to be taking to the situation with remarkable composure” He commented wryly.
She shrugged in her bonds trying, and failing, to appear indifferent.
“Maybe I was just curious how it would feel to be a damsel in distress”
Upon reflection this was probably true,  being tied up didn’t so much frighten her as it caused her to marvel at the hand fate had dealt her. This kind of thing simply didn’t happen to police women in real life. Strangely there was something inherently fun about the whole experience. Like when she would play dress up as a child.
Stevie looked around the room, taking stock of her surroundings. She was seated in her make-up chair facing a large dressing mirror framed with fairy lights. Stevie was surprised to discover the sight of herself, restrained against her will made her blush. Desperate not to appear aroused Sally looked for something, anything, to distract her. 
She decided to study her opposite number. The convict was well built, in his early thirties. Despite his bare arms being covered in tattoo’s and long unkempt black hair. Stevie suspected that, with a shower, a shave and a change of clothes he might almost be presentable. She wondered if he owned a suit. Possibly the one he wore for his trial,..
The convict, in turn looked at his prisoner and saw a pretty, generously built brunette in her early twenties. She was not very tall for a policewoman, in fact she was only five feet in her stockinged feet, however despite her lack of physical stature dressed in her crisp white shirt, black trousers and checkered clip on neckerchief and black trousers she looked every bit the efficient police sergeant. But her amused expression and affable demeanor made it clear she was not as frightened as might reasonably have anticipated.
Although naturally shy, growing up her height had always made her feel socially awkward; she had learned not to show it. Her smile was a study in warmth and her round cheeks and dimpled chin could easily be considered cute. Her dark red hair was thick and wavy which she wore pinned back from her eyes with a complex series of pins.
“Have you got any packing tape?” He asked breaking the silence
“I’ve probably got some downstairs" she remarked without enthusiasm "but if I have to be gagged, I’d much rather that you used something else”
“What would you suggest?”
“A silk scarf would be nice. I guess,..  I mean, if I had to choose” She found herself stammering.
“I’ll see what I can do” He said with an affectionate grin
“Actually, there should be one in my bedside draw,.. no, the other one”
“How about this?” He said holding up a red scarf.
“It certainly matches my hair” She said approvingly.
“Would you like me to loosen the tie at your neck,” he said as he saw the way her ropes had been stretched over her breasts, “It may make things a little more comfortable for you.”
“My very own gentleman kidnapper. Thank you, but no. I’m sure I will cope.” WPC Harris replied with what she hoped was the appropriate levels of stoicism “Besides, technically speaking I’m still on duty” ..”
Truth be told Stevie took a great deal of pride in her smart appearance, especially when in uniform. Even as a young girl she was one of the few pupils at her college who could always be relied upon to always have her shirt buttoned at the neck and her necktie knotted impeccably.
“Suit yourself”
“Any last words?” He said circling around her.
“Just promise you’ll make the bed when you’re done”
“That seems more than fair” he said as he bought the scarf over her head, pulling it firmly across her mouth and lips, before knotting it at the back of her neck under her hair. There was little point in protesting. Bound as she was, Stevie could do nothing about it. Instead she accepted the gag without a struggle. In a strange way she found that she enjoyed the feel of the smooth, soft material, pulled crisp and taut around her face.
Stevie remained in her chair while the convict climbed into bed. Watching in the mirror she waited patiently for signs that he had fallen asleep. 
She took the violent snoring that followed five minutes later to be a sign that the Sandman had claimed his latest victim.
She remembered how ridiculous it had often seemed when watching films that the heroine could be kept silent by a simple handkerchief tied either over their mouths or between their lips or teeth, however she now realized that, provided it couldn’t be shaken off it would be most effective in keeping her quiet. 
This didn’t so much frighten her as it caused her to revel in the sheer novelty of her situation. She certainly didn’t feel threatened. 
'I can't wait to tell the girls back at the station' she thought to herself,..

An indeterminate amount of time later the sound of a door opening caused the sleeping police woman to stir, moments later the fugitive padded softly into the room.
Stevie was pleased to discover her initial instincts were correct, stripped to the waist, his upper body still damp from his shower as he toweled his long jet black hair, he cut an impressive figure. Despite herself, Stevie found herself grunting positively into her gag at the sight of her new and improved abductor. Horrified, she wondered if this was the first sign of Stockholm syndrome.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked sounding concerned, his face now concealed by a freshly laundered pair of tights.
Stevie nodded, secretly horrified at her mouths lack of self-control.
“I’m fine” She mumbled through the cloth.
"Glad to hear it"
The escapee walked to the window and looked out. He turned back and spoke to his captive again.
“It’s finally stopped raining”
“Hmmm?” She replied quizzically, unsure how she was supposed to contribute to this conversation with a gag on her mouth.
“Sorry. Would you like me to take that off?”
Actually, she wasn’t sure that she did, but nodded nonetheless, since it seemed like the right thing to do.
He bent down and removed the gag from her mouth leaving it hanging loose around her neck.
“Better?” He asked, sounding concerned.
“Much” She said working her jaw. Then after a pause she added, ‘Do you mind untying me for a while? I’d really like to stretch and get my circulation going again. These ropes are pretty uncomfortable.’
“Maybe later.
“What’s that in your hand?”
“This?” He replied producing a china plate with a smile and a flourish worthy of a stage magician “It’s breakfast!"
“It’s three in the afternoon”
“Brunch then. I made it especially for you” He said proudly.
“Hmm,” She said eyeing the scorched remains of, what appeared to have once been scrambled eggs “I hope you haven’t made too much of a mess of my kitchen”
“You know what they say, you can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs”
“If you made an omelette I would expect to find an unconscious chef and a kitchen on fire”
“Why don’t you try some. Maybe you’ll like it” He said cutting off a piece.
“Okay, go ahead” 
He speared a lump of, as yet, unidentified foodstuff and placed it between her lips.
It somehow tasted worse than she feared.
"Well? What's the verdict?" He asked, seemingly on tender-hooks.
“It tastes like a robots bathwater”
“I’m hurt” He replied sounding anything but.
“Sorry. But I’m afraid that cooking may not be a club in your bag”
“Ha, ha! Well,.. don’t I at least get points for trying?”
“Of course you do honey" She said with a generous smile, "I take it you’re ready to leave?” She asked glancing at the well laden backpack slung over his shoulders.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve borrowed a few things. Mostly clothes and food”
“Be my guest”
“You really are a most wonderful hostess. This place gets five out of five on my convicts guide to hideouts”
“You flatter me”
He held up another fork laden with further burnt offerings, but Stevie turned her head away in mock disgust.
"I think one bite was quite enough," She stated firmly. "I don’t want to contract scurvy. In fact, I'd like my gag back please.  It certainly beats your food for taste"
“Really?” He said putting down the plate in mock disgust,  “Well, if the lady insists,..” he said hooking the gag back in place, this time between her teeth. 
However, rather than look upset she actually winked at him. In fact, the young police officer seemed to be making giggling noises under her gag.
“You find this funny?” 
“A little” She mumbled through the silk scarf,..
“And don’t worry, when I'm far enough away, I’ll be sure to call the station to let them know where you are,..”
She smiled, 
“Take care Officer Harris,.. Maybe it's about time that you think about getting a better alarm” He said biding her a fond farewell,..

EvilSweep

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Re: A little tied up

Post by Doush on Sun Apr 03, 2016 7:36 pm

Great work, Evilsweep. A fun story with a pleasant vibe running through that was also well written. I, for one, would love to see more! Cheers.

Doush

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