This is 'his' version of events. I would love to see 'her' version written and sent to the Scarf Web Site ­ any takers?

PERSONALS - HIS VERSION

 

I read an anonymous post in alt.personals.bondage a while ago, sandwiched in among the usual 24/7 SWF sub messages. Here's what it said:

"Rapist wanted in NY area. One-time meeting only. Tell me what you'll do to me. No safewords, no limits, no pre-arrangement."

I answered out of curiosity, not really expecting a response to my anonymous post. Here's what I said:

"I will be waiting in the darkness for you. You will be dressed head to toe in silk ­ a wrap-around dress, slip, panties and high heels. No bra, no tights. You will be wearing a long coat and a fine silk headscarf. I will pounce on you in the darkness. You will struggle hard and try to scream, but I will overwhelm you. I will tie you up, blindfold you with your scarf and force you to perform fellatio. Then I will tie you to a bed and make you cum all night. In the morning, I will be gone. You will never see my face. You will never forget our one-time meeting."

I received the following response, posted to the newsgroup:

"Dear Waiting in the Darkness, e-mail me at dolbal@worldnet.att. I await your instructions."

So I sent her this e-mail:

"Dress as instructed every Friday night. Go out at 8.00 and head home at 11.00. Walk two blocks to get a cab and have it drop you off two blocks from your home. E-mail me your address, date of birth and description/photo. I will be waiting ..."

By return e-mail, I received the address, which was in a fashionable part of town, her date of birth and two jpeg images of her. They showed a tall, slim, strikingly beautiful brunette, dressed in conservative business attire. The shots looked as though they had been professionally done; perhaps for PR purposes? Her face looked familiar too ....

I conducted a search using Newstracker, looking for the string "Dol" I got the usual mish-mash of stuff that stretched to thousands of articles. I narrowed the search to include only articles from the last six months and to include the word "she". This removed almost all of the dross and I now had only 115 articles to check through. I found her on the 67th hit - "Dolores Baldwin is promoted to the board of Bardon, Currie and Oakes," read the caption under a head-and-shoulders shot of the woman in my jpegs. She was, at 31, the youngest partner in a very prestigious Real Estate company, having joined only two years previously. I went back to the Newstracker front page and did a search on her name, but found only one more hit on her from a social page ­ a black and white picture of her in an evening gown attending a charity function with some dweeb.

I searched Dejanews for dolbal@worldnet.att and found that she was a regular contributor to alt-fashion, especially on matters relating to scarves and shoes. She also lurked a bit on alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.bondage asking for scarf bondage images, particularly close-ups of gagged faces. She had posted a few times in alt.sex.bondage as well, but as far as I could see, this was the first time she had posted to alt.personals.bondage.

I hacked into the Department of Motor Vehicles, using a password that a hacker friend of mine had given me and downloaded her details. She had given me her real date of birth and her real address. She had moved to that address at the same time as joining BC&O ­ a deal-sweetener perhaps? She had a few parking tickets and one speeding offence on her record. She drove a white BMW 320.i convertible, which was registered to her company.

I got up very early the next morning and went to her road. I parked on a side street facing her front door and waited. At 7.30 she came out of her front door. She was breath-taking. Her photos did not do her justice at all. She was very tall, maybe 5'10", with long well-defined legs. She was dressed very smartly, in a deep red skirt, navy silk blouse and sunglasses. She wore navy gloves, low-heeled pumps and her head was covered by a Gucci silk square with a crimson border that matched her skirt. She had knotted the scarf under her chin and tucked the point at the rear into the collar of her blouse. She got into her BMW and dropped the roof, started the engine, waited for it to warm up, and drove off.

My head was reeling ­ what did this stunning woman need with a personals ad? She could have any man she crooked her finger at! I decided not to follow her; I would pick up her trail at her office at lunch time, if necessary. Instead, I got my tool-kit out and headed to her front door. She had two locks on the door - a Yale and a Chubb. She had only pulled the door behind her as she left, not stopped to dead-lock it, so I slipped a flexible piece of plastic into the door-jamb and jiggled it up to the Yale until the lock popped open. I heard the warning buzz of the alarm in the hall. I stepped quickly inside and closed the door behind me. The alarm box was on the wall behind the door. I punched in her birth-date and the alarm shut off. I smiled in triumph and moved into the house.

There was a large airy entrance hall, with five doors off it and a sweeping staircase to the rear. I could smell coffee wafting out from one of the doors and went into the kitchen. It was large and well-appointed, the fridge and cupboards held a lot of food ­ clearly this was a woman who preferred to cook rather than eat out. I poured myself a cup of coffee from the machine, using her cup and proceeded back into the hall. I scanned the downstairs rooms getting a feel for Miss Dolores Baldwin. From the size of her living room and dining room, she obviously liked to entertain at home ­ whether for business of pleasure I couldn't tell. Her TV, video and stereo were in a smaller parlour-style room and were all of good quality and her video and CD collections were both extensive. There was a cloakroom downstairs also with a number of expensive-looking coats in it -­ clearly this was a woman who enjoyed spending money on fine things.

I moved upstairs and scoped out the bedrooms, leaving hers until last. She had a huge custom-made bed,with an iron frame. The damn thing must have weighed a ton! One wall of the room was lined with built-in cupboarding, filled to overflowing with carefully hung and folded clothes. She had three large drawers full of lingerie alone! There were two hanging racks filled with suits and another three with blouses and shirts. Two of her drawers were filled with dozens of neatly folded silk scarves of every colour under the sun, from every designer in the book. She had five shoe racks completely filled and the top level of the cupboard was full of shoe-boxes too. I tried to imagine what she must be earning to afford such a wardrobe. I moved into her dressing-room and found more cupboarding also filled with clothes. In the bottom drawer of her make-up covered dressing table, I found several pairs of handcuffs, some lengths of soft rope, a couple of dildoes, a small butt-plug and some wrinkled and stained silk scarves. I wondered was this kit for self-bondage or did she have some sort of partner? Probably not, I reckoned, since she had advertised for someone to fulfil her fantasies on a newsgroup.

Next to her bedroom was a small room that she used as a home office. There was a Power Macintosh computer, a scanner and a laser printer on the desk. I booted up the machine and started scanning her files. In the Netscape folder, I found a folder labelled "backups" which contained nearly 5,000 files. Sure enough, a quick inspection revealed over 700 stories and over 4,000 images of bondage, rape and degradation of women. She seemed to favour cloth or scarf gags and ropes in her imagery and the settings were all outdoor or in a home ­ there were no dungeon images, no leather cuffs or restraints, no whipping, caning or spanking; just blowjobs and fucking. The stories revealed the same pattern ­ simple bondage and rape fantasies, some consensual, but mostly non-consensual. There was also a lot of instructional stuff on self-bondage. I opened Netscape and examined her bookmarks. The business section was all related to the Real Estate trade and current affairs, but the private stuff was all bondage and fashion. She seemed to have a particular passion for scarves, both in fashion and in bondage. I checked the newsgroups and saw the same pattern again in her subscribed groups. I shut the computer down and went downstairs, picked up my toolkit and left, setting the alarm as I went.

Two days later, a Friday, I parked my car on the same side-street facing Dolores' front door at 6 o'clock in the evening and waited for her to come home. She arrived back at about 6.30, and quickly went into the house. I noticed again that she had not used the dead lock and smiled to myself. At two minutes to eight, a cab pulled up outside her door and honked its horn. She came out, dressed as I had instructed: high heels, no tights, a long white coat and a white-and-gold Hermès silk scarf wrapped Grace Kelly style around her head. She got into the cab and it drove off. I waited until nightfall and then quickly let myself into her house, shutting off the alarm. She had left the alarm on the full setting. I re-armed it using the 'home' setting, so that I could move freely around inside. I checked in a drawer in the hall and found a spare set of keys, which I pocketed. Then I went upstairs to the bedroom opposite hers and, leaving the door open a crack, took my shoes off, sat on the floor and waited.

At five past eleven, I heard the front door opening and the alarm buzzing. She shut it off completely and then re-set it as I had, to the 'home' setting. I heard her heels clacking on the stairs and she went into her bedroom and beyond into her dressing room. I squatted in front of the keyhole and looked through it. Sure enough, she was rummaging in her bondage-kit drawer, still wearing her coat and scarf; she had kicked he shoes off. She came back into her bedroom with her hands full and dumped everything on the left side of her bed. She tied two lengths of rope to the foot of the bed and two more to the head and attached handcuffs to the loops in them. She folded the creased scarves into bands and tied a knot in the middle of one of them. She took three more scarves out of a drawer and folded them into bands too. Then she lay, fully clothed, in the middle of the bed and proceeded to tie herself up. She hobbled her legs by folding them back up underneath herself and tying a scarf around each of her ankles and thighs, then wrapped the ropes from the foot of the bed around her ankles and tied them off. She then wriggled her way up the bed until the ankle ropes were stretched taut and lay back again.

My breathing was coming in short pants by now and my cock was rigid and straining against my pants. Dolores blindfolded herself with a scarf wrapped twice around her head and tied tightly at the back. I opened my door silently and stood up to get a better view. She put the knotted scarf into her mouth and tied it behind her head, followed by a second, wedged deep into her mouth. She tied the third scarf in a broad band covering the other two and smoothed it down. A very effective triple gag. I moved quietly to stand in her bedroom doorway.

She unbuttoned her coat and threw the sides open. She was wearing a pale yellow silk wrap-around dress to the knee. She untied the knot at her left hip and slowly popped open the snaps on the dress one by one. She had a cream satin slip and matching panties on underneath. She ripped her panties off and at the same time, began wriggling her legs, fighting her bonds and moaning into her gag. She picked up the butt plug and worked it into her pussy, lubricating it, and then stuck it into her ass with a high-pitched moan, which I could barely hear her through all the scarves in her mouth. She then took a large dildo and slowly moved it around the entrance to her pussy and then suddenly shoved about nine inches of it into herself. She screamed again, long and high, as she drove the fake cock up inside herself. She switched it on and I could hear the faint buzz coming from between her legs.

Picking up a small transparent bottle and opening it, she spilled some of its contents onto a wadded piece of white lint. She closed the bottle lid and dropped it on the floor. She closed the handcuff around her left wrist, took an deep audible breath in through her nose, put the pad over her nose and mouth and lay back. She reached for the handcuff on her right side, stretching to do so, and closed it one-handed around her right wrist. She exhaled and then took a deep breath in and started coughing and spluttering as she inhaled the fumes from the clear liquid. Her whole body went tense for a minute or so, straining against the scarves, ropes and handcuffs that immobilised her, and then she went limp, her head dropping over to one side, the lint falling off her face.

I tiptoed over to the bed and picked up the lint and sniffed ..... chloroform, or some ether-based derivative. I examined the handcuff on her right wrist. It seemed normal and secure ­ so how did she intend freeing herself from her self-imposed bondage? Then I spotted the key under her wrist. I moved it a few inches till it was just out of her reach. Moving around the bed, I spotted a spare key near her left hand and moved it too. Reaching down, I worked the buzzing vibrator deeper into her snatch and turned up the speed slightly.

After a few minutes, Dolores started to stir, moving her head from side to side and squirming against her bonds. She began grinding her ass down against the bed, moving the dildo around inside herself. Her breathing quickened and she began to moan into the thick layers of silk filling and covering her mouth. She worked herself up to an orgasm quickly, thrusting downwards with her ass to force the dildo deeper inside herself. She came suddenly, screaming with mock outrage into her gag, her torso flushed red, her breath coming in ragged snorts through her nose. She collapsed back down onto the bed, still wriggling against her bonds and whimpering quietly into the scarves muffling her mouth.

She let herself cool off for a while and then started working harder again, the tension mounting in her arms and legs as she strained against the implacable silk, chains and nylon that held her spread-eagled to the bed. Her whimpers turned to shouts as her excitement built; but every sound she made was thoroughly stifled by the heavy gag with which she had filled her mouth. A sheen of sweat was building up on the tops of her breasts above her shimmering slip; and her breathing, between screams, had become very ragged again. I briefly contemplated licking the sweat off her chest and throwing myself on her, but I held myself back. Abruptly, she stopped her cries and went rigid, as another orgasm coursed through her. She relaxed completely again, her breath rushing in and out of her nose and lay completely still, too spent to even try to struggle against her bondage.

Dolores' right hand, fingers splayed, started moving around, looking for the handcuff key and her left hand soon followed suit. Her movements became more urgent as she swept her hands back and forth through the narrow arc that the ropes and handcuffs allowed, searching hopelessly for the keys. She pushed herself as far up the bed as she could with her heels and the ropes around her ankles became taut again as she tried to increase the range of her search. Frightened, sobbing noises started coming from behind her gag as she realised that the keys were nowhere to be found. She worked her way as far to her right as she could, her left arm stretched and straining as her right hand frantically hunted for the key. She then reversed positions, stretching out towards her left but again failed to find the elusive little piece of metal.

She lay back on the pillows for a moment and the started rubbing her head hard against them, trying to dislodge the scarf tied over her eyes. It moved a little, perhaps enough to let a crack of light in, but she had wedged the silk too deeply into her eye sockets and tied it too tightly at the back of her head and she soon realised it was useless and gave up the effort to remove it. Next she started working her jaws, trying to work her mouth free of the breath-stifling scarf gags she had tied there. By a combination of moving her lower jaw and the friction of rubbing the silk against the cotton pillows, she managed to slide the outermost band down off her mouth. It flopped around her neck like a fashionable scarf choker. She continued to work at the second one and got it down out of her mouth, but it was tied tighter than the first and it wedged on her chin. So she began working on the ball of silk in her mouth with her tongue and eventually got it out and down over her chin as well. She lay back and took a few deep breaths, enjoying the freedom of being able to breathe properly.

I leaned over the bed and her head snapped over towards me and she called out, "Who's there?"

I stood completely still ­ she must have seen a shadow of movement from under the bottom of her blindfold. She relaxed again, obviously deciding that her imagination was playing tricks on her, and I reached out to one of the keys and placed it just about in reach of her left hand. Then I tiptoed back to the door of her bedroom.

Dolores lay still for quite a while and then desultorily began feeling for the handcuff keys again. She grabbed at the key when her left hand touched it and immediately began feeling her way to the keyhole in the cuff on her left hand. It opened with a distinct click. She immediately removed the key and reached over to her right hand to free it also. I retreated back into the other bedroom and noiselessly closed the door behind me and resumed my position at the keyhole. Dolores freed her right hand and quickly untied her blindfold and pulled the two scarves at her chin down around her neck. She then plucked the dildo out of her pussy and reached down to untie her ankles. Once she was completely free of her bonds, she headed to the bathroom, presumably to remove the butt-plug and to freshen up. I picked up my shoes and moved quickly down the stairs. I turned off the alarm and left the house, pulling the door quietly shut behind me. I rapidly scribbled on a piece of card and stuck the note in under the door. It read:

"Loved your scarf. Soon it will be tied over your eyes, caressing your head, while my cock pumps spunk into your mouth. Soon."

The following Friday, I was waiting in my usual spot opposite her house at 7.45 in the evening. At 8.05 a cab pulled up and Dolores came out of her house. This time she was wearing a long black floor-length cloak and her headscarf was a simple black-and-white geometric pattern from Yves Saint Laurent, tied Grace Kelly style again. She paused to dead-lock her front door and then got into the cab and disappeared. I waited an hour and let myself into her house with my keys, shutting off and re-setting the alarm as before.

I headed straight up to her bedroom and into her dressing room. Her bondage gear was all in place, stowed neatly away in its drawer. I pulled it all out and went back to her bed. I set up the ropes as she had and placed one pair of the handcuffs up at the head of the bed. The other pair, I put into my back pocket, with my small switchblade knife. The inexpensive Richard Alan scarves that she had used for her gag the previous week were stiff with her saliva and a little creased and grubby, so I left them aside and pulled out a handful of fresh scarves from her drawers. I went for a theme of black, choosing three black-bordered Hermès scarves and four others with black backgrounds ­ two more Hermès, a Ferragamo and a DKNY. I folded them all into bands and put a stout figure-eight knot in the centre of a black-bordered Équipages by Hermès to form the basis for a gag. Then I removed the bulb from the ceiling light and sat down to wait.

Shortly after 11.00, I heard the front door opening and the alarm buzzing. I pulled on a pair of leather gloves and readied myself. Dolores spent some time downstairs, making herself coffee and watching a little television. Then I heard her switching off lights and heading upstairs. I hid behind her bedroom door and peeked through the gap by the hinges. She was wearing a clinging black wrap-around dress and was carrying her shoes. She had pushed her scarf down off her head and it was bunched around her neck. I could smell her perfume as she came through the door. She clicked on the light switches beside the door and the bed-side lights came on, dimly illuminating my preparations.

She gasped and stood stock still, dropping her shoes; then, turning on her heels, she prepared to run. I stepped out from behind the door and grabbed her around the waist and clamped my hand over her mouth. She screamed into my hand and tried to wriggle free, wrenching with her arms, trying to hit me with her elbows. I threw her onto the floor and followed her down, putting my knee in her back and most of my weight on her. I pulled the handcuffs from my back pocket and snapped one onto her left wrist. Her struggles intensified and she screamed over and over into my hand. I pulled out the knife and opened it with a push of the button, letting her see the blade.

"Shut up, cunt. Shut up," I rasped into her ear, pressing the tip of the blade into her cheek.

She immediately stopped trying to make noise and lay stiffly underneath me, not daring to move. I removed my hand from hr mouth and took a little of my weight off her, but kept the knife pressing into her face.

"Blindfold yourself. Use your scarf." I commanded.

She complied, closing her eyes in despair. She untied the scarf from around her neck and folded it into a band. She pulled it over her eyes, with the handcuff dangling clumsily from her left wrist as she did so, and began to tie the heavy silk at the back of her head.

"Stop. Double loop it." I said.

She held one end of the scarf against the back of her head and wrapped the rest of it around her eyes twice before bringing the two ends together and tying them firmly with a double knot, pressing her hair tightly against her head.

"Handcuff yourself. Hands behind your back." I barked this instruction at her.

She brought her hands together behind her at her waist and closed the remaining cuff over her right wrist with a series of small clicks. I got up off her and checked the cuffs, tightening the one on her left hand. Then I snibbed the switches over so that the cuffs couldn't tighten any more on her wrists. I put a finger under the blindfold (she flinched) and checked the tension of the scarf. Not good enough. I untied the blindfold and pulled it tighter, jerking her head cruelly back and up as I did so, and then knotted it snugly against her head. I picked her up by the handcuffs, forcing her to her feet.

"OWWW JESUS! THAT HUR.." she screamed.

I slapped her hard across the face and pulled her in towards me, clapping my hand over her mouth again.

"Shut your fucking mouth, cunt," I hissed in her ear. "You open your mouth when I tell you. You speak when I ask you a question. Understand?"

She nodded against my hand. I took it away from her mouth again and pushed her into her dressing room.

"On your knees."

I sat down on the chair and took off my gloves. I opened my belt and zip slowly, so that she would hear the sounds and know what was coming next. My cock sprang free; it had been fully erect since I first grabbed her.

"Blow me."

She moved her head slowly forwards and opened her mouth a little. Her nose touched the end of my prick and she flinched away. I grabbed her head with both of my hands and pulled her forward again. She licked her lips to moisten them and engulfed the helmet of my cock in her warm mouth.

It was, without a doubt, the most memorable blowjob that I have ever had ­ this classy, stunning woman, dressed so finely, tied up and helpless, on her knees in front of me with my cock in her mouth. I pressed my hands against her silk-bound head and thrust up into her mouth. She took me well ­ she was obviously no newcomer to giving head. She caressed me with her lips and bathed me with her tongue and plenty of hot saliva. I was so excited from the anticipation of this moment that I came within a matter of minutes. Dolores pulled her mouth off me as she felt me spurting into it, but I held her head tightly and forced her to take me back in her mouth for the rest of my orgasm. I thrust up into her warm mouth until I was spent and then leaned forward and kissed her deeply, probing her mouth with my tongue, relishing the taste of my own cum.

I reached up onto the dressing table for the chloroform and poured some onto the pad. I stood up and moved behind her, slapping the lint over her nose and mouth. She threw herself to the side as soon as she smelt the chloroform, but I followed her to the ground and kept the pad pressed down hard on her face. She struggled wildly, thrashing her head from side to side to escape the fumes, but it was no use ­ she quickly succumbed to the anaesthetic and her struggles weakened and then stopped altogether. I kept the pad pressed to her mouth for a few more moments and then got up and pulled up my trousers. My cock was swelling again in response to her struggles, but I stuffed it into my pants and zipped myself up. Then I picked up Dolores' unconscious form and carried her into the bedroom.

I dropped her gently on the bed and stripped her dress off, un-cuffing her hands to remove it. I cuffed her hands to the ropes attached to the headboard of her bed, spreading them wide. Then I hobbled her legs with two of the mostly-black scarves ­ an Hermès and the Ferragamo. I draped a Hermès scarf over a hard pillow and put it under her ass and then stretched her legs out wide and tied the trailing ropes off to her ankles. She was now totally immobilised, spread-eagled on the centre of her bed, wearing only a black silk slip and panties; the pillow under her offering up her pussy and ass for the taking. She was still unconscious and breathing deeply and steadily.

I went down to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich and took a soda from the fridge. I enjoyed the cold drink and the tasty snack for a while, sitting at the breakfast bar, and then I heard her starting to shout, her cries growing in volume. I ran back upstairs and into the bedroom. She was thrashing around in the tight grip of her bonds and yelling out to be let go.

I opened my switchblade with a loud click and pressed the tip of the blade to her neck.

"Quiet. You can't escape. You probably can't be heard; and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Understand?"

She stopped her shouts as soon as she felt the blade and nodded her head gingerly in response to my question.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked with a slight tremor in her voice.

"No safewords. No limits. No pre-arrangement. Remember?" I said.

"But you're not to hurt me, you can't ....."

"No safewords. No limits. No-pre-arrangement. Now shut up."

With that I picked up the black Équipages scarf and forced the knot into her mouth.

"Nooommmmppf," she screamed, and wrenched her head from side to side to prevent me tying the gag in place. I wrapped the ends of the scarf around her head and tied them off over the large knot in her mouth.

"Mo! Mo! Yew buckem mastur! Met be go! Met be go!"

The first gag had not so much silenced her as made her shouts a bit more indistinct. I forced another scarf ­ this one by DKNY ­ into her mouth, tied it off behind her head and brought the ends back to the front where I cinched them down tightly between her teeth with two knots. She kept shouting at me and rocking her head violently to prevent me from gagging her, but to no avail. I was much stronger than she was and she could get no leverage, spread-eagled as she was. I applied a third gag ­ a black-bordered Hermès Springs ­ in a broad band, completely obscuring her mouth; double-knotted it behind her head and left the ends trailing.

Dolores was now very effectively gagged ­ only tiny mewling noises were getting past the thick layers of silk. I picked up the large vibrator and turned it on. I laid it between her legs, touching her mound and watched her reaction. Her struggles ceased immediately and she tried to clamp her thighs together to heighten the sensation, but I had tied her ankles too widely apart. She began raising and lowering her pelvis a few inches, rubbing her crotch up and down the length of the dildo, but it kept moving with her and she could get no friction going against it. Finally, she lay still, simmering in her frustration.

I left her stewing and went into her en-suite bathroom and undressed. I took a long hot shower and walked, naked, back into the bedroom, towelling myself dry. She had not budged an inch since I left her, but the vibrator was obviously starting to work as I could hear her moaning quietly into her gag. Reaching over, I pressed the vibrator gently down against her mound. She responded immediately, rising up to meet it and the volume of her moaning seemed to increase a little ­ although it was hard to tell, she was so thoroughly silenced. I took the dildo away from her pussy and she moaned with disappointment until I climbed up on the bed and put my head between her legs.

Her panties were quite damp by now and I could get the distinct aroma of excitement from her pussy. I licked her from her anus to her clitoris in one languorous, hard stroke. She pressed herself down on me, straining against the handcuffs around her wrists to reach me. I pulled away slowly and deliberately and she thrust her hips up and down in frustration, less than an inch from my face. The scent of her excitement wafted over me and I reached out with the very tip of my tongue and flicked it over her clitoris. Even through the heavy silk of her panties, she was getting a huge rush from my delicate licking. The pace of her groaning changed and then stopped altogether; her body went rigid and she came with two spasmodic contractions, crying out into the rich silk packing her mouth. She dropped back onto the bed, her ass still raised by the scarf-covered pillow and lay there, quivering.

I kept up my tongue work and began stroking the insides of her thighs with my fingertips. Within seconds, she raised her ass up off the pillow again and tried to grind it onto my face. I carefully gauged my distance, so that she couldn't control the intensity of my mouth on her clit, and increased the length of my caresses on her thighs. She came again very quickly, moaning this time, barely audible through the scarves in her mouth. I reached up for my knife and cut her panties off, rubbing the heavy wet silk up against my nose and mouth. Then I went back to work on her with my tongue and lips, bringing her to orgasm three more times in rapid succession. Her pussy was flowing with juices by the time I finished and I wiped her dry with a towel.

Then I went to work on her breasts. Her nipples were standing proud and stretching the shimmering silk of her slip. I repeated the pattern I had used on her pussy, starting my stimulation through the silk, controlling the pressure I exerted; and then cutting the spaghetti-hoop straps to give direct contact on her nipples. She was extraordinarily sensitive and shuddered with every touch of my tongue. Her breasts, shoulders and neck were heavily flushed when I stopped and a light sheen of perspiration glowed on her skin. I put my knife through the sheer material of her slip down near the bottom and cut down through the hem. Then I slowly ripped it up its length with my hands, letting the sound of the silk tearing turn both me and her on. She was squirming against her bondage and shouting something over and over into her gag.

I ignored her and climbed off the bed. I have never been so turned on in my life; my cock was sore it was so hard and it was throbbing for release, but I was more interested in making my 'victim' sweat; so, leaving the vibrator buzzing in Dolores' pussy, I headed back into the bathroom and rubbed myself down with a cold wet towel. Then I went down to the kitchen to finish my snack. I cocked an ear an listened carefully. I could just about hear her when she shouted at full volume ­ presumably when she was cumming, but otherwise, there was nothing to be heard other than the rhythmic rocking of the bed.

My cock got hard again very quickly (that damned imagination of mine!), so I headed softly back upstairs and stood at the end of the bed. Dolores was humping the dildo in her pussy as well as she could; I had stretched her more stringently than she was able to when she tied herself, so she did not have as much room to manoeuvre. Nevertheless, she was grinding down hard against the dildo, straining against the ropes and cuffs that held her to the bed. I noticed that the scarves hobbling her legs had slackened a little, giving her a greater range of movement than I had intended. She was unaware of my presence and was focused in entirely on the sensations between her legs, so she started violently when I grabbed the dildo and started thrusting it in and out of her pussy. I gave her one more orgasm with the dildo and then pulled it out of her. She lay back passively on the bed, breathing heavily from her exertions. I towelled her off again and then started circling the head of my cock around the entrance to her pussy. She arched her back and thrust herself an inch or so onto me before being brought up short by the cuffs and scarves. She bucked up and down, trying to encourage me to come fully into her, but I held back. The delicious friction was almost driving me out of my mind and she came again twice as a result of it, but I managed to hold myself back for just a little longer.

Finally, I could stand it no more and plunged the full length of my cock into her drenched snatch. She screamed into her gag and writhed underneath me as I dropped all of my weight on her and rammed in and out of her like a madman. I came within a matter of seconds, pushing fully up into her and squeezing every drop of my jism out. Then I collapsed down onto her, inhaling her musk and caressing her silk-wrapped head.

When I had recovered my breath, I got up off her and untied her ankles and took the hobbling scarves off her legs. She stretched her legs out, luxuriating in the freedom that I had granted her. I pulled the pillow out from under her ass and dropped it on the floor. The Hermès scarf that I had draped over the pillow was drenched with her sweat and the juices from her pussy. I opened the cuff connecting her left hand to the rope on the headboard and pulled it across to the other side, snapping it shut through the rope loop there; I noticed that her wrists had been abraded quite badly by her struggles against the steel cuffs. I rolled her over onto her stomach, re-tied the black scarves around her ankles and tucked her knees up into her chest. She was either too spent or too curious to resist and I re-positioned her limbs with no protest from her. Then I re-hobbled her legs with the Hermès and Ferragamo scarves, finishing them off with triple knots to prevent slackening. I went over to her cupboard and fished out two more scarves ­ a Gucci and a Givenchy ­ which I left folded into broad rectangles, 36" X 6". I uncuffed her right hand and wrapped the cool silk around her wrist and re-cuffed it to the other side of the bed. I repeated the operation on the left hand, leaving her stretched out again face down, but with a protective layer of silk between her skin and the harsh steel of the cuffs. I draped a fresh scarf (the last of the Hermès, a primarily black Astronomie) over the hard pillow and positioned it under her breasts

I grabbed her ankles and pulled her down the bed to stretch her taut and started to rope her ankle to the foot of the bed, when I noticed that this would leave her with too much slack. So I rooted through her scarf drawers until I found a long beige, brown and black oblong Pierre Balmain scarf, which I folded into a 7 foot silk rope. I tied one end of it around her left thigh, just above the knee, brought it up over her neck and tied it off around her right thigh. Then I stretched her out again and tied her ankles off with the ropes. I smacked her hard on the ass a couple of times and she screamed into the scarves in her mouth, but couldn't move at all. I positioned myself between her legs and pushed my cock slowly into her pussy, forcing it a little against her inner walls as the angle wasn't quite right. She screamed with delight and pushed back against me, clenching her inner muscles. I reached under her and massaged her breasts with the Hermès scarf while I plunged slowly in and out of her pussy. I brought her to orgasm twice in quick succession before I let myself cum in her. She moaned at me and tried to push back onto me as I withdrew, but the scarves and cuffs held her back.

I went into her dressing room, picked up a bottle of moisturising lotion from her table and got back up onto the bed. I stuck the nozzle of the bottle up into her anus and began squeezing out its contents. She shrieked as the cold nozzle went into her ass and threw herself from side to side, trying to prevent me from getting at her anus.

"Stay still bitch, or I'll fuck you in the mouth with a broken bottle," I hissed in her ear. She immediately lay still and passively let me empty most of the bottle into her asshole.

"Too much lube is just about enough," I crowed into her ear. She moaned with despair into the scarves in her mouth and shook her head. "No safewords. No limits. No pre-arrangement," I reminded her.

I picked up the large dildo and squirted more of the moisturising lotion onto it, spreading it over the knobbly head.

"Open wide!" I laughed, pushing the head of the dildo into her anus.

Dolores shrieked louder than she had all night as the cold, oily dildo nudged its way past her tight sphincter. She struggled wildly against the scarves that hobbled her and the cuffs and ropes that stretched her; but there was no slack in her bondage. She presented an almost stationary target. I turned the vibrator on at a low setting and it set up a deep hum at the entrance to her ass. I lubed up my hand and pushed three fingers slowly into her pussy and then started an alternating rhythm ­ in with the dildo, out with the hand, in with the hand, out with the dildo. She screamed continuously as I worked her body, nothing but a high pitched keening getting through the heavy silk scarves in her mouth. Her asshole was very tight - possibly virgin? - and I worked the dildo into her by millimetres, trying to stretch her without doing any damage. Her pussy loosened up quickly and I got four fingers into it and then my thumb. Soon, my hand was buried to the wrist in her snatch, with her inner muscles clamping down on it with each stroke. Her anus took longer to relax, but I kept a gentle, even pressure up until I had about 7 inches of the big dildo buried in her.

When I judged the time was right, I pulled my fist out of her pussy and slowly drew the dildo out of her ass. Then I lubed up my prick and worked it carefully into her anus in one slow smooth thrust. I grabbed her breasts roughly and mauled them as I fucked her carefully in the ass, increasing the force of my pinches and grabs as I thrust harder and deeper up inside her. Dolores went berserk underneath me, screaming hopelessly into the scarves and squeezing my cock with the muscles of her asshole, trying to eject me. I bit her shoulder and dropped more of my weight on her until she slumped underneath me and gave up her desperate resistance. I ploughed her ass for a very long time, coming twice; and decorated her shoulders and neck with a pattern of bites. As I came for the second time in her ass (my fifth orgasm that night!) I raked her breasts with my nails, causing her to scream over and over into her gag. I finally pulled out of her and wiped my cock with a towel.

I checked the clock by her bed. It was nearly 5.00 am. I untied the ropes from her ankles and removed the scarves that hobbled her, letting her stretch out face down. Then I took a long hot shower and got dressed. Then I put the key to her handcuffs in her hand and left the house quickly.

On Monday morning, I made a phone call from my office.

"Hello? Bardon, Currie and Oakes? I have some property that I want to sell, who should I talk to? Hello Miss Baldwin? I wonder could we meet for lunch to discuss some city centre property that I want to dispose of....."

So, here I am, sitting in a fashionable restaurant in the heart of town, waiting for the delectable Miss Dolores Baldwin. She sweeps in five minutes ahead of our appointment and is shown over to my table by the smarmy Maitre D'. She is stunning ­ medium heels, sheer tights, a short black skirt, white silk blouse and, tied tightly at her throat (do I see a love-bite peeping out from beneath it?) a black-bordered Hermès Springs scarf, the ends trailing down her back. She smiles broadly at me as she comes over to the table and I rise to shake her hand, smiling back.

"Miss Baldwin? Peter Healy. A pleasure to meet you. Love your scarf."