The Burglar's Mistake
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 reputedly cost almost £8 million to prise 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 forbidding aura nonetheless. Since Sir Charles was a teenager there have been several unexplained disappearances in the vicinity, 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 practical 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 and tiny 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 strayed on to his land. But this sight was a special treat: a stunning Latina with a body to die for and an outfit that left very little to the imagination. As beautiful as she was, however, she was behaving suspiciously. 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 rang 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 champagne 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 adjusted her cleavage and walked forward, moving her hips like a Latin goddess. As she walked through the garden to the door of the mansion, she realised 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 shapely 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 torment 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 champagne.
"My mechanic will fill up your car," he said. "Now, how shall we entertain 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 shapely 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 champagne 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 shapely 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 thorough tour."
Melanie looked at Sir Charles with 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 champagne with a stately air, observing the Mexican girl. He wondered how far he could push his luck with this pretty creature. 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 winked, 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 safer 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 takes 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 grasping 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 cheeks. 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 genuinely interested in seeing my art collection, you wouldn't mind being trussed 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 groping 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, and rolled 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 kneeling 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 thigh, then gave her a cheeky 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 impotent 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.
Sir Charles held Melanie firmly by the hips. He would have said it was to make sure she didn't fall down, but she knew he just wanted to feel her up. The fabric of the dress was so thin and so tight that she might as well have been naked, and the ropes forced her into a feminine posture that was particularly appealing to him. He squeezed and caressed her body, enjoying his possession of such a stunning creature.
"Against your will?!" he laughed. "We're just having fun, aren't we? But of course, if you're no longer enjoying yourself, please feel free to leave!"
He looked into the girl's fierce, embarrassed eyes and laughed again.
"Oh dear, you're not helpless, are you? Trussed up good and tight and totally unable to escape? That is a shame. And you know what would be more of a shame? If the police were told about the string of burglaries my private investigators have linked to you. As if I'd let a criminal like you into my home without knowing exactly who you are!
"But since you refuse to tell me the truth, I think you need to wear some more ropes. Tell me, my pretty prisoner, would you like me to bind your chest, or would you prefer something a little lower down?"
Melanie's beautiful eyes flashed with anger.
"I'm not going to waste my time with a senile lunatic obsessed with rope," she cried. "Stay away from me!"
She turned around and started hopping towards the door, shouting her head off.
"Help! Somebody let me out of these ropes, please!"
She looked back to check if the old man was chasing her, but he was just standing there, half calm, half amused.
"Come back here, princess," he said, smiling, but she ignored him.
She bent over awkwardly and managed to grab the doorknob with her bound hands, twist it, and open the door. Then she hurried out of the room and down the corridor, hopping like a bunny and screaming for help. Hop, hop, hop. She saw the young servant who had opened the door earlier. She stopped hopping and wobbled on her high heels, almost falling to the ground.
"Hey!" she said with a sweet smile. "Come on, boy! Untie these knots."
But the boy wasn't looking at her. He was looking behind her. She turned her head to see Sir Charles strolling down the corridor, still calm, still smiling. "Is everything in order, sir?" the boy asked his boss. She glared. He wasn't going to help.
9.
"Don't worry, Carson," said Sir Charles, sounding supremely unruffled. "Everything is proceeding exactly to plan. Did you enjoy watching her bounce up and down? Pretty little thing, isn't she? But rather disobedient. I wonder... Perhaps this will keep her rather more docile."
He caught up with the pretty thief easily - after all, he had the free use of his legs - and grabbed her, pulling another cord from his pocket. He started looping it around the girl's slender waist, cinching her in tightly like a Victorian corset. He knotted it securely, then took the loose end and pulled it down between her legs. With her thighs bound tight, it wasn't easy to force the end through the gap, but he was quite happy to poke and prod around her crotch until he succeeded. Then he yanked the cord up from behind so it slipped inside her, and knotted it behind her back.
"How's that, princess? Enjoying the nice comfortable crotch rope? Why don't you have a good wriggle and see how that feels?"
The young butler Carson was clearly in awe of his master, but this didn't stop him enjoying the sight of a Spanish beauty in a revealing dress and tight ropes. He was staring at Melanie and almost drooling with delight. She was rather less pleased with the situation.
"Hey! Ouch!" she complained when the rope found its way between her legs. "This is too tight!"
Every time she struggled, the crotch rope tightened against her mound, making her wobble so badly that Carson had to hold her by the waist to prevent her falling. But Sir Charles kept looping ropes and tying knots about the limbs of the poor Latina. "That's it, Carson!" he said encouragingly to his servant. "Hold her for me as I work on these knots. Don't let her escape."
"As... as you wish, sir." The young butler gulped and obeyed. He tightened his grip on the girl's waist, but did so delicately, almost shyly. Yet Melanie was in no mood to be gentle with the timid youngster.
"Hey!" she yelled at him. "Get your hands off me, fucking brat!"
Carson looked surprised to hear language of that sort from such a pretty flower. His eyes narrowed and he suddenly looked far more determined.
"Permission to chastise the prisoner, sir?"
The older man looked up and smiled. "Permission granted by all means, young man. You can't be too firm with disobedient wenches like this one. Let me see your technique."
Carson gripped Melanie's waist with surprising strength for such a youngster, and lifted up her dress with his other hand, revealing black lacy underwear.
"Mademoiselle will kindly hold her tongue," he said in a firm voice, "or she will be punished."
He brought his hand down fast on her curvy ass and there was a loud SMACK. She gasped with pain and surprise.
SMACK. He struck a second time. SMACK. And a third.
"Has mademoiselle learned her lesson? Or shall I repeat the punishment?"
"How dare you, pervert!" she yelled at the boy, shocked at what he had done. She wriggled her hips, trying to shake off his hands, and looked to Sir Charles for support. "Are you going to let him do this to me, grandpa?"
The men looked at each other and laughed, and Melanie felt even angrier, her face turning red. Ignoring this, the boy pulled back on the fabric of her dress from behind, displaying the shape of her pert breasts. She let out a squeal of protest.
"Sir," said the emboldened young butler, "if I may take the liberty, I've always wanted to learn how to put a tight chest harness on a feisty beautiful woman."
"What!? No! This is enough!" Her worried eyes darted from one to the other.
10.
"That's an excellent idea, Carson. She has lovely tits and they should be properly displayed so we can enjoy them. That's what a young lady's body is for, after all: men's pleasure. We can lose that silly bra, as well."
Carson nodded, and carefully reached inside the top of Melanie's dress to snip through the straps of her expensive, lacy bra, which he brought out and tucked in a pocket. "And more rope around her chest will make her even more helpless, so she'll be easier to control," he said thoughtfully.
"Quite right," agreed Sir Charles. "Well, let's see if you've been paying attention. Rope her up good and tight."
There was something about the way the two men were talking to each other about their prisoner rather than acknowledging her existence as a person that felt incredibly disrespectful. It was like her opinion didn't matter at all.
The youngster approached the pretty burglar nervously with a coil of rope while Sir Charles held her firmly in place. He began wrapping rope around her chest and arms, four loops below her breasts then four above, all cinched tight and snug. He looped rope around her shoulders and down between her breasts, then pulled it up hard so they were framed and displayed prominently.
"Great job!" said Sir Charles, who was delighted.
"Let me go!" said Melanie, who was not. "This is totally unnecessary!"
She complained and wriggled, trying to shake off the harness around her boobs, but the ropes were snug and her tits tightly framed. Her struggling was so vigorous that she would have fallen over if Sir Charles hadn't been there to hold her in place. Her round boobs and hard nipples were clearly visible; she felt dreadfully exposed. Her cheeks turned bright red with humiliation.
The two men took a step back to get a proper view of their victim.
"There you go, princess!" gloated Sir Charles, patting the boy on the shoulder. "You did a really good job, Carson. She's not escaping from that."
Carson nodded and smiled at his boss respectfully. Melanie glared at the pair of them, doing her best to stay upright on her high heels.
"Go fuck yourselves," she said, spitefully. "Don't mind me. Go ahead and suck each other off, I can see you want to."
Carson looked displeased.
"I gave mademoiselle very clear instructions about keeping silent," he said to Sir Charles, still treating Melanie like an object. "Permission to apply a gag, sir?"
11.
"Permission granted," said Sir Charles, nodding. "Good thinking, young man."
The young butler took off his striped necktie and tied a knot in the centre.
"Open wide, mademoiselle."
"No!" squeaked Melanie. "No way you're putting that in my... ahflmmph!!" She groaned as the youngster shoved the necktie between her plump lips and knotted it behind her head. "Grlmmmph!!"
"Much better now, son. This gal looks fantastic, but she was starting to get on my nerves. These young ladies love to chatter, don't they?"
Melanie rolled her eyes and huffed in frustration. The two men were now both standing next to her, and they started groping and manhandling her body. As if on cue, they each cupped one of her breasts.
"Ullmmmph!"
She squealed and struggled as hard as she could. But they held her firmly in place.
"Get a good feel, Carson," said the older man. "That's real quality merchandise, right there."
They caressed and stroked the girl's lovely breasts, and rubbed her nipples until she blushed from embarrassment and stimulation.
"Yes, sir. These are the nicest tits I've ever felt. Shame she's such a naughty wench."
"When you get to my age, young man, you'll understand that the disobedient ones are the most enjoyable. You get to break their resistance. I should think a little more spanking would do wonders for this one's attitude."
In fact, the pretty thief's body was now so tightly and thoroughly roped that she could barely put up any resistance as Sir Charles held her in position and Carson spanked her cute ass. SMACK! SMACK! He looked her in the eye and winked. SMACK!
"Is mademoiselle ready to behave now?"
"Yefff pleafff!!" Melanie begged as Carson gave her ass a hard spanking. She leaned her head on Sir Charles' shoulder, trying to hide her red face and her embarrassment. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He was holding her by the hips, but soon his hands began to move over her body, cupping her breasts again and rubbing her nipples as Carson inflicted his punishment. "Ullmph!!" she squealed after every spank, squeezing herself against the master of the house as if he was her saviour.
"That's enough, son," he said at last. "I don't want her ass to hurt too much when she sits on my lap." Carson obeyed promptly like a good apprentice.
His work done, Carson carefully rolled Melanie's tight dress up and tucked it under the crotch rope so her round red ass and black underwear were visible for all to see. Exhausted, she collapsed into Sir Charles' arms. Carson looked a little jealous. It was obvious that he would have liked to have his way with the beautiful Latina, but his boss was in charge.
12.
"It seems our captive princess is more submissive than she realised," Sir Charles laughed, giving her tits a good squeeze and tweaking her nipples. The humiliated little squeals and moans coming from her gagged mouth were a delight to his ears.
"We've done a good job on this one," he said to Carson. "She's completely helpless and I suspect she is beginning to know her place. But we'll need to be strict with her if we want to turn her into an adequate maid. Any sign of disobedience, you understand, she gets a good firm spanking."
"Understood, Sir Charles. Shall I fetch her uniform?"
"Yes, I believe she is ready to begin her training."
The older man looked into Melanie's alarmed eyes and laughed again.
"That's right, wench, I've decided to give you a job. And the first thing you'll need to learn, if you don't want to be spanked extremely regularly, is to call me sir. Understood, prisoner?"
Uniform? A job? She looked at Sir Charles with scared eyes as the butler walked away, leaving them alone. She pointed her little nose at the ceiling and moved her head from side to side, begging for mercy. "Ullummph!!"
Taking advantage of their privacy, he caressed her face, running his fingers through her hair and gazing into her eyes.
"Do you like my assistant, sweet tits?" he laughed. "He's very efficient, isn't he? And I think he's taken a fancy to you."
"Mmmlph!!" Melanie shook her head angrily.
Carson returned with a French maid outfit, which she could see at once was at least two sizes too small. Black high-heeled shoes, fishnet stockings, a ludicrously short black skirt, a tight black corset, and a cute hairband. He placed the uniform carefully on a table.
Melanie looked at the outfit, frowning and wrinkling her nose. There's no way I'm wearing that, she thought to herself...
"Now I know what you're thinking, hot stuff," Sir Charles smiled. "You're thinking, there's no way I'm going to wear that. Am I right? You're thinking that you're an independent woman, not a servant. That a feminist shouldn't dress up like a sex object. That this is a terribly objectifying outfit and I can't make you put it on."
He leaned close, and she could feel the warmth of his breath.
"Well, believe me, sweetheart, I can."
Carson took out a smartphone and nodded to his boss.
"But first, we're going to have ourselves a little photo shoot. Big smile, darling."
13.
Carson took a selfie of the three of them, with Melanie in the middle, tightly tied and with a rope harness framing her breasts. Embarrassed to be photographed in that condition, she tried to hide her red, gagged face behind her long dark hair. The two men smiled for the camera, looking delighted with themselves... until Carson checked the picture afterwards.
"The prisoner tried to hide herself, sir," said the young butler disapprovingly.
"Oh dear, princess. How disappointing. You know what that means, Carson."
"Yes, sir."
He grabbed her again and spanked her ass hard. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! She squealed with pain and humiliation, furious at being treated like a naughty schoolgirl - and by a servant! But neither Carson nor Sir Charles seemed to much care what she thought, particularly since her squeals were so effectively muffled by the gag. Indeed, the two men were barely even aware that the poor girl was trying to say anything.
The older man filmed Melanie's degrading treatment with the camera on Carson's phone, then instructed him to position her for more photos.
"We'll take plenty of pictures of the princess on her own. On her knees, I think."
He took at least 20 photos, getting lots of close-ups of her exposed tits and ass, her tightly gagged mouth - those plump lips looked wonderful quivering silently around Carson's necktie - and her bound wrists. When they were done he put the phone away and looked her in the eye.
"Listen, Melanie."
How did he know her real name? A shiver ran down her spine.
"I'm going to be straight with you, darling. My investigators have found evidence that you've been involved in at least a dozen burglaries this year, and I've now got footage of you entering my property on false pretences. If I want, I can get you put away for a very long time. And those videos and photos of you trussed up and gagged with your tits in a rope harness could easily find their way on to the internet. Things could turn out very badly for you, Miss Trejo, if you disobey me one more time.
"So in a minute my assistant is going to untie you, and you know what you're going to do? You're going to take off your dress and your underwear, and you're going to put on the French maid uniform. Is that understood?"
He tweaked her nipple, hard.
"Is that understood, princess?"
14.
"Grrllmmmph!!"
Melanie groaned into her gag again. She felt so vulnerable and humiliated that she couldn't even bring herself to look Sir Charles in the eye. But he held her chin and forced her face up.
"Is that understood, princess?"
At last she nodded, her face a deep crimson and her eyes full of anger, fear and frustration.
"That's a good girl," he said, patting her butt. "Carson, let's untie her so she can put her new dress on. Don't worry, the prisoner isn't going anywhere."
Carson nodded obediently and set himself to work on the prisoner's knots. There were so many ropes on her, and they were so tightly and thoroughly tied, that it took a while to get them all off. Whether through clumsiness or lust (and Melanie suspected the latter) Carson's fingers frequently brushed against her most sensitive areas: her nipples, her pussy, her ass. By this point it felt like just one extra humiliation, and she barely even objected.
Eventually Carson was finished, and Melanie was standing there, free of her bindings.
"That was kind of Carson, wasn't it? Say thank you," Sir Charles commanded.
She blushed again. "Phhnnh ymnn."
He finally untied the gag, pulled the damp necktie out of her mouth, and stepped back.
"Now take off your clothes."
The two men gave no indication that they intended to give poor Melanie any privacy whatsoever, so she was obliged to peel off her dress and underwear in front of them. Sir Charles laughed at her obvious embarrassment, while Carson leered at her flawless nakedness. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, and he couldn't believe his luck.
"And now the uniform. Get on with it."
She put on the fishnet stockings first, slowly and self-consciously pulling them up her smooth, toned legs. Then she squeezed into the short, ultra-tight mini skirt, well aware that two sets of eyes were fixed on her and enjoying every second. She put on and adjusted the corset, then put the hairband on her head. Finally, she stepped into the high-heeled shoes.
When she was finished, she looked up miserably to see what humiliation would come next. The men whistled.
"Oh, wonderful!" cooed Sir Charles. "It suits you, princess. Don't you agree, Carson?"
The young butler pulled at his shirt collar, sweating and gulping. "Ye-yes, sir... she looks fan... fantastic," he answered nervously.
Melanie rolled her eyes. What a couple of perverts.
15.
"You're almost ready to begin your training, maid," added Sir Charles. "Just a couple more details to sort out first. That corset isn't quite right, is it?"
He reached out and tugged it down slightly, so that Melanie's naked breasts popped out over the top, the fine nipples standing to attention delightfully.
"There, that's much better. No sense hiding those puppies away. They're your best feature, after all."
He enjoyed the frustrated blush on her face.
"Now we need to get you fastened up again. Ask Carson to bind you tightly, wench, and remember to call him sir."
Melanie looked down in humiliation, her hands together, and said shyly: "Would you tie me up again very tightly, sir?"
Carson took a while to answer, distracted by the pretty Latina's nude breasts popping out of her corset. He looked at her in her new outfit, marvelling. Finally he seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing, and his gaze shifted up to Melanie's eyes. He shook his head to wake up.
"Uh... yes! Of course! Where shall I start, Sir Charles?" He turned to his master, waiting for instructions.
"Bind her hands," the older man replied. "Extremely high up behind the back. And as the lady says, as tight as possible."
Carson nodded, and went to work, wrestling the girl's wrists up between her shoulder blades, crossing them with the fingers pointing upwards, and binding them tightly together. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and forced her to arch her back and stick her bosom out. He put all his strength and skill into ensuring the knots were impossible to escape. Melanie's skin was still marked with red lines from the previous bondage, and the new bindings hurt her already sore wrists. She wriggled and struggled but it was clear that she was again a helpless prisoner.
"How should he bind you next, princess?" Sir Charles asked in a taunting voice. "We'll leave your gag for last, since I have something special for you to wear in your mouth, but other than that, the choice is yours. Do remember your manners, however, or we will be obliged to punish you again."
She looked down in humiliation. "Would you tie my feet now, sir?" she asked obediently.
The two men nodded approvingly, both smiling broadly. Carson took out another bundle of ropes and knelt before her, taking his time. She could feel his hand rubbing her toned legs from the calf to the thigh. It was desperately embarrassing.
She looked at Sir Charles, searching for some help. But he just carried on smiling.
"That's a good girl," he said. "You're an obedient little thing really, aren't you? This life will suit you much better than those nasty criminal activities."
Carson was obviously enjoying caressing Melanie's shapely legs, but remembered his duties and started to tie them tightly with the rough rope. He quickly and painfully bound her thighs and knees together, then looked to his master for further guidance.
"Give our pretty maid a small amount of rope between her ankles," came the instruction. "Not much, but just enough to hobble around cleaning up after the men."
Carson nodded. He wrapped rope tightly around Melanie's left ankle, then played out six inches of rope before binding her right ankle. Between the rope hobble and her tightly bound arms, it was very nearly impossible for her to walk.
"Give it a try, princess," gloated Sir Charles. See how quickly you can run."
16.
Melanie started hopping away as fast as she could. Was she simply doing as she was told, or was she actually trying to escape? It was hard to say. The two men shrugged at each other and enjoyed the view, as her round, toned ass jiggled with every hop she took.
"Isn't she beautiful, sir?" asked Carson. Sir Charles smiled, realising his employee had fallen hopelessly in love.
These thoughts were interrupted by a loud sound: Melanie had stumbled and fallen. She was now rolling on the floor, trying to get on her knees and wiggling her ass as she tried to stand up.
"You silly bimbo!" laughed Sir Charles, helping her up on to her feet, and letting her lean on his arm. He pretended to wipe the dust off her bottom, but really just gave it an unnecessary fondle and squeeze.
"Hopping isn't going to get you anywhere," he explained. "There's a short rope hobble between your ankles, so you need to walk, just with tiny little steps, like an obedient maid going about her duties. I hope you understand now that you're not going to escape? That the tight rope bonds are just as much a part of your uniform as the corset and that cute little skirt? But don't worry, you'll be well looked after. We look after our property here at Richmond Manor."
He stroked the side of her face, then looked at Carson. The butler obviously wished he could do the same.
"You'll take Miss Trejo under your wing during the working day, won't you, Carson? You'll show her the ropes, as it were?"
The younger man nodded, and smiled.
"And I'll make sure she's looked after during the night."
With surprising strength, the master of the house grabbed the front of Melanie's corset and pulled her forwards, then planted a kiss on her lips. It occurred to the pretty thief with a sinking heart that he probably wanted to make the most of her mouth before shoving a gag in there. Not that he was confining his attentions to her mouth: she could feel one hand holding her breast, the thumb brushing against her nipple, as the other firmly held her left buttock.
She glanced over at Carson, who was pointedly looking away, and realised that the young butler was jealous. Instead of paying attention to the pretty burglar, he was occupying himself with a large suitcase, which he lifted on to the table and opened. It was full of cleaning equipment: rags, brushes, a feather duster and so on. And a huge ball gag, which he handed to Sir Charles once the kiss was over.
"Please no!" begged Melanie. "Don't put that in my mouth. I'll be quiet, I promise!"
"Oh, you'll be quiet all right," smiled the lord of the manor. "Silent and obedient, as a woman should be."
He pushed the ball gag between her teeth and deep into her mouth. It kept her jaw open and her tongue pressed down: speech was now impossible. Then he buckled it tightly behind her head.
"Comfortable, princess?" laughed Sir Charles as she shook her head and mumbled and moaned through the gag. "And don't forget your duster!"
He clipped the feather duster into a little hole in the front of the gag.
"You're almost ready to start work, princess. But have we forgotten to properly bind your chest? Carson, have we got any more rope?"
17.
"Aught gahff..."
Melanie sighed into her gag and rolled her eyes as Carson approached once again with a new bundle of rope, ready to frame her boobs with a new rope harness. Working quickly but carefully, he looped the cords and tightened the knots as she growled impotently.
From time to time, when it was convenient, he moved the captive's body into a better position by guiding her hips or cupping her breasts, rather as if she was a piece of furniture or a sculpture he was working on. She squeaked in outrage and looked indignantly at Sir Charles. "Did you see that?" she thought. "He just touched me! Do something about it!" Unfortunately the gag prevented her from giving voice to her frustrations, but the older man seemed to understand.
"I think that's enough, Carson," he said. "I'll finish binding the princess and getting her ready for work. You can leave us, for now."
Sir Charles wanted Melanie to himself now. For some reason, maybe her beauty, maybe her spirit, he had suddenly realised he needed to possess her completely.
"It looks like he did a good job, wench, but I'd better check these knots."
Melanie couldn't offer any comment on the situation, so he went ahead and checked all the ropes binding her so tightly and so helplessly.
Her wrists were secure high up behind her back, her chest, arms and breasts imprisoned in a tight harness of rope, her legs thoroughly bound at knee and thigh, complete with that neat rope hobble limiting the movement of her ankles and feet. That slinky dress she had been so proud of was gone, replaced by a demeaning French maid uniform, and her tits had been freed from the undersized corset so Sir Charles could look at them and fondle them as much as he chose. Finally the pretty thief's mouth was filled with a huge and thoroughly silencing ball gag, complete with feather duster attachment for added humiliation. She was a lovely, helpless prisoner, and her captor couldn't keep his hands off her tightly bound body.
"Oh, these won't do at all!" he said, mockingly. "Far too loose." Melanie sighed: none of her bonds were remotely loose. But he somehow manage to cinch them in even more restrictively, making the ropes and the knots even tighter and more inescapable.
"And I can't believe that foolish boy forgot to give you back the crotch rope you were enjoying so much. Beg me for a crotch rope, princess."
"Pleahff dhf crhtx rhpff!!" she begged through the huge ball gag, almost feeling grateful that he was holding her in his arms so she wouldn't fall.
Sir Charles walked over to the table and picked up yet another rope. He approached his captive again, enjoying the view: a slender Mexican beauty tightly tied up in a skimpy French maid outfit, completely helpless and utterly humiliated. He pulled her against him. She let out a muffled squeal as her body was squeezed against his and their faces came close, almost touching.
"Grrlmmph!!"
She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore her captor, but the fact was that she felt strangely secure in his arms. Against her better judgment, she didn't want him to leave her alone in her predicament.
Sir Charles looped the rope around Melanie's slim waist.
"Don't worry, princess, I'll have you fastened up in no time."
He dropped the loose end of the rope down between her thighs and forced it through the gap. Then it came up behind her, the rope threaded through her pussy, creating an intolerable friction against her most vulnerable and private area. He knotted the crotch rope to her waist binding.
"How does that suit you, prisoner? Nice and tight? Better get used to it. And now it's time to put you to work. I trust you will be submissive and obedient, or we will have a problem."
18.
Twenty minutes later...
Sir Charles was sitting on his upholstered chaise longue, holding a glass of bourbon on the rocks. His eyes weren't on the TV, or the priceless paintings on the wall. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Melanie, tightly tied up and gagged in her new uniform and working hard. At this precise moment she was bent over the table, doing her best to clean it using the feather duster attached to her ball gag: not an easy task. He was enjoying her shapely legs in their fishnet stockings, her round toned ass, and the fact that the feisty thief had come to rob his home and was now submissively cleaning it.
He took a sip of his bourbon and smiled. Carson would love this, he thought.
The door opened and a group of men walked in. Most of them were around the same age as Sir Charles, although a few were younger. Some of them looked at him and smiled, but none seemed particularly surprised to see a young Spanish beauty, dressed in a French maid's uniform with her tits out, trussed up and gagged and doing the housework.
"This a new one?" asked one of the men, leering at the maid. He walked over and slapped her on the bum. "Lovely piece of ass. Interested in selling?"
The host shook his head, laughing. "Certainly not. It took a great deal of trouble laying the trap for this pretty little thief. Find your own, Thwaites."
Carson now followed the group in, carrying a tray of drinks. "That's enough dusting," he said quietly, removing the duster from Melanie's ball gag and attaching the tray to her body with a chain around her neck and a strap around her waist. The glasses were cold against her breasts and she gasped through the gag. Carson moved them so they were less uncomfortable and gave her a shy smile.
"Get on with it then, girl," cried Thwaites, the man who tried to buy Melanie. "Bring me my drink!"
She hobbled over obediently, the chain clinking and her heels clacking against the floor as she tried not to stumble. The group laughed and commented on her clumsiness as she blushed with humiliation. Thwaites took a bourbon and pinched her nipple spitefully, whispering something to the man next to him, who laughed.
"Carry on, then, you silly little thing," he added. "And see that you don't spill anything, or I'll have you flogged. Your master might be soft hearted, but his friends are not."
Melanie gulped and carried on around the room, a silent and helpless piece of furniture, bound and displayed for the men's pleasure. And she realised this was her life now: cleaning, serving drinks, carrying out her master's bidding, no matter how humiliating. Finally she got back to Sir Charles, who took another drink from the tray, then indicated that she must kneel down next to him like an obedient dog. As the conversation turned to business plans and the stock market, she was entirely ignored, and she began to wonder what her owner had in mind for later.
FIN
- Melanie smirked, envisioning the challenge ahead. "Perhaps they will," she mused, planning her next move.
- Dressed to entice, Melanie strode towards the mansion, the gardener's eyes trailing her figure.
- In the grand hall, Melanie met Sir Charles, her eyes gleaming with uncertainty as he offered her a glass of champagne.
- Sir Charles led Melanie to a private room, his eyes never leaving her shapely figure bound and gagged, a sly grin on his face.