The following story is a loosely edited transcript of an RP between this writer and the ever-delightful ContinentalCo. It contains damsel-in-distress bondage, humiliation and sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
1.
“Financiers and jewel appraisers are in uproar at the news that Sir Charles Barclay-Richmond, the notorious English playboy billionaire, gambler and womaniser, has purchased the Damsel’s Eye, the largest and, it had been thought, most unattainable emerald in the world. It reportedly cost almost £8 million to price the jewel from its previous owner.
“Security experts have expressed doubts over the suitability of Richmond Manor, the enormous crumbling country house where the emerald will be kept. Sir Charles, however, does not appear worried. He told reporters this evening that he “positively dared anyone to try and steal my goddamn gem”.
“Richmond Manor is unlikely to be mistaken for Fort Knox, but it has a forbiddingaura nonetheless. Since Sir Charles was a teenager there have been several unexplained disappearances in the victory, all of them beautiful young women. Two babysitters, several maids, a Latin tutor, a farmer’s daughter, and a plucky reporter trying to disentangle Sir Charles’ unusual tax arrangements all vanished without a trace, as did an ambitious young policewoman investigating the previous cases. And while no Evidence has ever been found to implicate the dissolute peer, questions continue to be asked.
“It would take a brave or a foolish burglar to steal from such a man. But who knows? Perhaps someone will try.”
Melanie Trejo put down the newspaper and smiled. Perhaps they will, she thought. The 25-year-old Latina had emptied the safes of dozens of rich old men, and didn’t see why this one would be any different.
Melanie was an accomplished burglar, picklock and safecracker, but provided she was careful to select male victims, she had found that her more practicalal skills were rarely needed. With well-shaped legs and butt, long brunette hair, and an appealingly flirty manner, the Mexican thief had elevated the seduction of wealthy Englishmen to an art form. Within weeks, occasionally within days, the poor men would inevitably fall in love with the Latin beauty, and start throwing money and gifts at her: to the besotted fools a few million seemed a fair exchange for having her delightful company. Sadly, they would end up giving far more for far less. Melanie would accept their gifts with a smile, wait until nightfall, then fill her bag with anything else of value that she could find, and vanish. They would never see her again.
And now it was Sir Charles’ turn.
2.
The gorgeous Latina rang the doorbell at Richmond Manor. She had decided long ago that subtlety was overrated, and was dressed in a manner that was sure to seduce any old man with a pulse: a tight, thigh-length black dress, with a skimpy black bra andtiny thong beneath. Her high-heeled shoes were a little impractical on the gravel, but they looked great. Her long, straight black hair was picked up in a ponytail.
Since there was no answer, she went over to try the garden gate. As she waited, she gazed at the beautiful surroundings. The big mansion was in the middle of nowhere, and surrounded by trees; the police would take hours to arrive if an alarm went off. She smiled sweetly at the thought… unaware that she was being watched.
Elsewhere on the estate, Sir Charles sat in a large leather armchair, sipping whisky and looking intently at a bank of computer screens. Richmond Manor seemed run-down, but it was equipped with a sophisticated array of sensors and cameras, and he was fond of spying on the ramblers and travelling salesmen who stood on to his land. But this sight was a special treatment: a stunning Latina with a body to die for and an outfit that left very little to the imagination. As beautiful as she was, howeverr, she was being rarely. Whatever could she be up to?
Sir Charles tapped a few keys and the digital locks on that side of the house disengaged, leaving only the ancient deadbolts and mortise locks. If Melanie had even rudimentary burglary skills, she’d be able to break in with ease.
But Melanie was too cautious, too smart to take the bait. She was sure that something was wrong. Something had changed. She looked around for security cameras. Was she being observed? She ran the bell again and spoke into the microphone. “Hi! Is anyone there? My car just ran out of gasoline and I’m lost in the middle of nowhere. Could I come in and have a glass of water? I need to call for help…”
The pretty Latina smiled to herself. With a story like that, no one could turn her away. In a few moments she would be inside the mansion.
There was a click and a crackle on the line, then a kind voice.
“Hello there my dear. Oh, how shocking, you have run out of gasoline? Don’t worry, I would be happy to kidnap… I mean, kid about with you while you wait for your car to be fixed. I would love to capture… er, your beauty, with perhaps a few photographs? You really are a pretty one, aren’t you? What a pleasure it would be to bind… I mean, find you a good mechanic.
“The gate is open now, as is the door just beyond. Come inside and make yourself at home. There are glasses and a bottle of champione in the refrigerator. Be my prisoner! I mean, guest.”
There was sinister laughter before another click and the line went dead. Then the gate swung open, beckoning Melanie inside.
3.
Melanie listened with narrowed eyes and a wrinkled nose. What a weird guy, she thought. What a strange, sinister way of talking. But then she shrugged: the creep had a lot of money and jewels, so he was worth the effort.
Melanie took out her ponytail and let her hair down, long, straight and black. She adjustedher cleavage and walked forward, moving her hips like a Latin goddess. As she walked through the garden to the door of the mansion, she realized the gardener was gawking at her curves. She smiled to herself, knowing how charming she looked. A young butler opened the door for her and, as she came in, couldn’t help staring at her shaped legs and round toned ass.
Melanie turned around sharply and spoke to him in an arrogant, bossy voice. “Hey kid! Where is the owner of the house? And look up, okay? My face is up here!”
The butler’s face went red.
“I’m very sorry, madam,” he stuttered. “I hope you won’t mention this to the master!”
The poor boy didn’t know where to look, and Melanie was delighted. She jiggled her tits in his face as a final torque and then marched past.
As she entered the house, the gorgeous thief was stunned by the wealth on display. There were priceless paintings on the walls, and irreplaceable vases and sculptures on the shelves. She smiled to herself. Jackpot, she thought.
“Welcome to my humble home,” came a voice. Melanie followed the sound and found herself in a grand hall with luxurious furniture and a large fireplace. A smartly dressed man in his mid-fifties reached out and kissed her hand, then offered her a glass of champione.
“My mechanic will fill up your car,” he said. “Now, how shall we enter ourselves while we wait? We really must get you trussed up, er, I mean… trust me to show you a good time!”
Melanie took a seat on an expensive-looking chair and crossed her shaped brown legs, the tight little dress showing them off to great effect. The man was clearly having to make an effort not to stare at them. She accepted the champione with a nod and gave the man – Sir Charles, presumably – a pure and innocent smile.
“Thank you, sir,” Melanie said. “You’re very kind. I hope it won’t take long to have my car fixed.” There was absolutely nothing wrong with her car, she had simply hidden it in some bushes, and she hoped desperately that Sir Charles’ people wouldn’t find it and put a hole in her story. But she wasn’t going to show she was worried. After all, she was a professional.
Suddenly Melanie licked her lips, looked at the old man with naughty eyes, and whispered in a flirting tone: “Sir, would you let me see the rest of this lovely place?”
Sir Charles was obviously enjoying the sight of her toned and shaped body. Surely he had never had a guest as exotic as her.
4.
Sir Charles was indeed enjoying the sight of the pretty young crook in her tight and revealing dress.
“I would be delighted to show you around, my dear,” he said. “Let me see. Would you like to walk around the gardens, or take a look at the bedroom where I keep my most valuable treasures?”
He gave a wicked smile.
“I can ask the mechanic to take his time, if you would like a really through tour.”
Melanie looked at Sir Charles wit feline eyes and smiled. That was easier than I expected, she thought, I’ve seduced this poor old man. She stood up and approached his chair, clacking her heels and rotating her hips, then bent over offering him a privileged view of her imprisoned boobs.
“That would be really exciting, sir. Would you do that for me? Show me around the place, I mean… I think you are a true gentleman!”
Sir Charles looked very pleased to have Melanie in the mansion. He took a sip of his champion with a stately air, observing the Mexican girl. He wondered how far he could push his luck with this pretty creativity. Was she as gullible as he suspected?
“I would love to,” he smiled. “But I am a defenceless old man, and I am not sure it would be wise for me to be alone in the house with a fit young stranger. You might overpower me and steal my money! Unless… I don’t suppose you would allow me to bind your hands behind your back, by any chance? Just for my protection.”
He turned, and added: “I think you’d look good in rope, by the way. And if you’re half as charming as I suspect, you might just persuade me to untie you when we get to the bedroom… or add some more rope…”
Melanie looked at Sir Charles strangely, weighing up the idea.
“That’s kind of weird,” she said, frowning. “But… okay! If you feel safe with my hands tied behind my back… go ahead!”
This old man seems a little weird, she thought. But I don’t want to lose the chance to take a look at the mansion’s artworks and jewellery, so I had better do what it took to please him. She turned and obediently put her hands behind her back as Sir Charles took a coil of rope from a desk drawer.
“Please make sure you don’t tie them too tight,” she said in an assertive voice. “I hate ropemarks on my skin. If you do, I will be obliged to report you and seek compensation.”
She wanted him to know that, even though he was the one holding the ropes, she was still in charge.
5.
My goodness, thought Sir Charles, trying not to laugh. What a dim little bimbo she is! And she thinks she’s in control of the situation. Well, that won’t last long.
He assured Melanie that her bonds would be comfortable, but with her back turned she was unable to see the sinister look on his face as he started carefully looping rope around her wrists. She gasped as he suddenly yanked it tight and tied a knot out of reach of her grating fingers. Without asking permission he pushed her elbows together and bound them tightly together as well. She was now well bound and far more helpless than she expected; she also found herself unable to shield her lovely tits from his eager and shameless gaze.
“You’re wonderfully flexible, my dear,” he said. “That will be useful later… Now would you like to lead the way? It’s just up that corridor, then left at the end.”
But both of them were well aware that he just wanted to watch her ass as she walked.
Melanie looked at Sir Charles with shock and surprise: she certainly didn’t expect his knots to be this tight. But she couldn’t turn back now. She raised her head proudly and glared at her captor before turning and walking down the corridor, trying Valiantly to keep her balance on those precarious high heels. With her arms tied securely this was rather difficult. Sir Charles stayed where he was, watching the pretty thief walk in her new restraints. She could feel his gaze fixed on her posterior, and closed her eyes trying to contain her anger.
This old fool, she thought to herself, must be the rudest and most disgusting pervert I have ever met. She felt indignant at this wholly inappropriate treatment, and part of her was thinking ahead to her revenge, the delicious moment when he woke up and found Melanie, and all of his money, long gone, never to return. But there was something else creeping up in her mind… being paraded like a helpless sex object in her revealing clothes, arms bound and tits on show… the embarrassment and humiliation were almost paralysing. Damn, she thought, distractedly. How did I get myself into this?
“That’s it, sweetheart, just keep shaking that ass,” Sir Charles laughed, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the Latin beauty’s toned, round butt. Her feminine posture was exaggerated by the high heels, while her breasts were forced outwards by the tight bondage. With her wrists and elbows tightly bound she was an even more delicious sight than when he first laid eyes on her. She was losing control of the situation, and he loved seeing the worry and embarrassment on her face.
“That’s it, next door on the left.”
He didn’t offer to help – so much for the well-bred English gentleman – so she struggled to open the door with Her arms awkwardly held behind her back.
“Just in there, sweet cheeses. Have a rest on the bed, why don’t you?”
Melanie looked around, and started to cheer up. Other than the large four-poster bed and enormous TV, the room was full of priceless artworks, and there was a safe in one wall. If only she wasn’t tied up, this job would be easy. How could she persuade the foolish old man to free her from these tight bonds?
6.
Melanie looked hungrily at the safe as Sir Charles shut the door behind them. She bit her lip and turned to her captor. His eyes, inevitably, were fixed on her cleavage. What a pervert, she thought.
“Hey, Sir Charles,” she cried. “My eyes are up here! I think I’ve had enough of this. Untie me now, please. You can see I’m not dangerous. These ropes hurt.”
She turned and bent over, presenting her strictly bound arms ready to be freed… and also offering him a privileged view of her curvy ass sticking out.
“But how can I be sure you’re not dangerous?” wondered Sir Charles innocently. “Asking to be untied is exactly what a burglar would do. If you were generally interested in seeing my art collection, you wouldn’t mind being trusted up. What do you need to use your arms for? Carrying away my treasures?”
He came closer, much closer, until he was pressed up against her ass, and grabbed hold of her bound arms. The pretty thief could smell the whisky on his breath. With his other hand, he stroked the fabric of her tight dress, marvelling at its rich quality and (more importantly) the feel of the fit, slim body underneath.
“I’ll do you a deal,” he said after a few moments. “If you can prove to me that you’re not here to cause trouble, I’ll happily untie you and give you a guided tour. Show me you’re interested in me, not my money.”
“Hey! What are you doing?” she protested in frustration. She suspected that the whiskey had emboldened him: he was hugging and grouping her like a slimy old man. But then her attitude softened. He must be senile, she thought to herself. Don’t be rude to him, and you’ll be able to take some of these valuables home.
So she bit her lips again, androlled her eyes innocently. “How can you think I want to steal from you?” she asked in a light, flirty voice. “Don’t be so insecure, sweetheart! Would you trust me if I gave you a little kiss?”
She couldn’t help wrinkling her nose a little when she said this. Obviously she didn’t have the slightest interest in kissing the old fool. Still… anything for the money.
“A kiss from those sweet lips?” Sir Charles was beaming with delight. “What a delightful notion.”
He spun Melanie around so she was facing him, grabbed her firmly, as if they were about to dance the tango, and bent her over backwards in his arms so she was hanging just a couple of feet from the floor. Her eyes opened wide, and he laughed as he planted a kiss on her plump lips, his tongue invading her mouth and taking full advantage of the situation.
Eventually he ended the kiss and helped the pretty Latina to stand up again.
“I’m not sure your heart was in that,” he said, pretending to be put out”I think trying to charm me with a mere kiss is exactly the sort of trick a burglar would pull. And I expect you want to be untied now?”
He could see the anger and disgust in her eyes.
“If you really don’t plan to grab my money and run away, you won’t mind if I bind your pretty ankles with some more rope. Shall I proceed, or can you think of another way to convince me?”
7.
The old man’s capricious demands were making Melanie nervous, but she was determined not to mess up her plan. Maybe after tying my ankles he’ll trust me and let me do my thing, she thought… So she nodded, trying to hide her anger. “Of course, sir,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage. “Bind my ankles if you deem it necessary.”
But before she had even opened her mouth, he was already taking out another bundle of rope and kneeing down ready to work on her legs.
“You really do have very lovely legs, my dear,” he said, while looping rope snugly around her ankles and knotting it tightly in place. “Too many ladies hide their feminine attractions with loose trousers and flat shoes, but you have the right idea. Nice tall heels and a dress to show off your shapely legs. Well done!”
He looked up at his victim, standing uncertainly on her bound feet, unable to steady herself because her arms were pinned behind her back, and enjoyed her vulnerability. He knew perfectly well that she couldn’t stop him from running his hands up and down her legs.
“Almost done, my dear,” he said, deciding to push his luck. He whipped out more rope and quickly bound Melanie’s pretty legs at knee and tigh, then gave her a cheese smack on the ass. She yelped with shock. Okay, she decided. This is too much.
“Hey!” she yelled. “What do you think you’re doing!? Do not touch me again, okay!? Now let me out of these ropes, I’m out!!” As she scolded Sir Charles, face red with accumulated embarrassment and anger, she was shocked to see that instead of looking ashamed, he was chuckling and trying to hide his amusement.
She clenched her hands in fists behind her back. If she wasn’t tied up she would have punched the old fool in the face. She was furious, but at the same time she was aware that she made a ridiculous sight, wobbling on her high heels with her arms tied behind her back and her legs tied tightly together. It was an effort just to stand on her feet. What possible threat was she to Sir Charles now?
“Careful now, princess,” he laughed. “You don’t want to topple over! You’re very clumsy, aren’t you? My pretty little captive.”
Keeping his eyes on Melanie and stifling another laugh, he pulled out his phone and called one of his underlings.
“Did you check her car? No? Nothing at all? A full tank of gas, eh? Just as I suspected.”
He hung up.
“Well, princess, it sounds like you lied. My mechanic says the car is absolutely fine. So would you like to tell me the truth, or shall I apply some more ropes to that lovely body of yours?”
8.
“The truth?” she replied mockingly, but with the beginnings of panic in her voice. “The truth is that you’re keeping me like this against my will, and I can report you to the police for what you’re doing!”
But the bluff wasn’t working. Sir Charles was looking intently at her, thriving on her anger, enjoying her important yelling. It was clear to both of them that he had seen her coming, and her plan lay in ruins. Here she was, bound hand and foot, standing helplessly in the bedroom of a perverted old man. A perverted old man who, she was starting to suspect, knew she was here to steal his valuables. But he didn’t look mad. More like the opposite. Amused. Delighted.
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