Copyright Oggbashan April 2021
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
I suppose we were lucky. The early Track and Trace system worked for us. Monica and I were in the same third year tutor group at University when one of the group developed Covid symptoms. All ten of us in that tutor group were told to self-isolate. I had the message on my mobile a couple of minutes before Monica.
"Shit!" I said.
What is it Harry?" Monica asked.
I showed her the message. She was reading it when the same message appeared on her mobile.
"Fucking hell!" Monica said, "Both of us!"
"At least Angela should be OK," I said.
"Maybe, Harry, but she is going to be affected if we are isolating. She'll have to do the shopping and cooking. That will be a pain for her."
"At least we have enough space unlike some of the other students." I said.
"True. But I'll text Angela now. We will have to work out a system so we don't come in contact with her. If we were all isolating that would be impossible."
The three of us are from the same small village and were attending the nearest university about thirty-five miles from home - too far to commute given the lack of direct public transport. Our parents had bought this four bedroom detached house as an investment. After us, there were three more siblings who would need it, starting the term after we finished. After six years our parents could probably sell the house at a profit and our costs were much lower than renting and far more civilised.
The house had three large bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms, a fourth bedroom and a family bathroom. Downstairs was a large kitchen and three living rooms, one with a conservatory. The front and rear gardens were large and we had off-road parking for four cars - invaluable this close to the university.
Monica and I discussed it. If we two kept to our bedrooms and used the downstairs dining room with conservatory, the only common space would be the landing and stairs. If we used gloves and face masks, and wiped everything down - that should be OK. But we didn't have gloves or facemasks and they weren't available in any shops as far as we knew.
Monica sent a long text to Angela. She shopping and would see if she could find some gloves or facemasks. Disinfectant? We already had ample supplies of that.
There was a connecting door between my bedroom and Monica's. We had never used it and it had been locked. We unlocked it and we could go from one to the other without going on to the landing. We had our laptops in the bedrooms and a strong wi-fi signal throughout the house so we could continue our studies on line.
I am Monica's boyfriend, or perhaps that is not the right title. I am Monica's willing victim and sub. She likes bondage, on me, and making love while I am helplessly restrained. Although she has some fur lined handcuffs, she prefers to use anything available, usually items from her used laundry. I could be tied with stockings or pantyhose, hooded by her waist slip or zipped into her corselette while eating her panties. Despite myself I enjoy it. Whenever I am helpless Monica will engulf my erection and tease me for what seems like hours before she takes me to the limit and beyond.
Because of our studies, Monica usually reserves her sexual bondage to the weekends, particularly Friday and Saturday nights. But now the two of us are going to be self-isolating for fourteen days, will that be bliss or agony for me?
But before Angela gets home, I will need to do some preparation. We have camping equipment in the garage. We should keep our usage of the communal areas to a minimum. I brought the camping toilet, the two burner gas cooker, the water container, and other items into the dining room. Once in there, we would not need to go upstairs if we had facilities. Finally I brought our laptops downstairs.
While I was busy, Monica was looking for things to make temporary masks. When I finished preparing the dining room I returned upstairs to Monica. She asked me to stand with her back to her. Suddenly one of her silk head scarves covered my mouth and nose. Monica pulled it tight and then knotted it over my mouth, pushing the knot between my teeth. I was effectively masked, but Monica had also gagged me into silence as well.
She fed my hands into knee-high stockings before she tied my hands together behind my back with a full-size stocking. Last, she put another headscarf on my head and arranged it so I was blinkered and the scarf covered everything except my eyes and nose. She tied that behind my head and then kissed me on the nose.
"There you are, Harry, completely protected for Angela."
She tied a headscarf loosely across her mouth and nose and put knee-high stockings on her hands.
"And now, so am I but I can speak and do more. Shame, Harry, isn't it?"
She gave me a hug, pressing her large breasts on my chest. Monica is a large woman, taller and heavier than me with breasts that need boulder-holders. Angela is much smaller, petite with perky breasts, adequate for her build but not massive like Monica's.
We shut the bedroom door and walked down to the dining room to wait for Angela's return. Monica pushed me into an armchair and sat on me before pulling my gagged and shrouded head into her clothed cleavage. My tied hands were digging into my back as Monica squirmed across me.
We heard Angela arrive and go into the kitchen. A few minutes later she opened the hatch into the dining room. She was wearing pair of her panties over her face.
