Copyright Oggbashan August 2017
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.
This is the third and last chapter.
*****
I had met Cecilia Dupont in a charity shop earlier yesterday. She had beaten me to a Gucci labelled silk scarf. I had admitted to her that I collected silk scarves and after we had shared an exquisite Indian meal at a local restaurant I had been invited in for coffee.
One thing had led to another. She demonstrated how silk scarves should be worn, with me as the model. She had showed me how they could be used for bondage until I was totally in her control, restrained by silk scarves. She had used my bound body to arouse herself.
She had made me helpless: tied to her bed, entangled, bound, blindfolded and gagged with silk scarves. She had replaced the silk scarf over my prick with an easily washed polyester one and aroused me until I ejaculated. She left me tied to her bed all night.
The next morning I heard two people moving about. Who else had Cecilia brought to witness my predicament?
Was there someone with Cecilia, sharing her enjoyment of my helplessness? Or even worse, could it be two people I'd never met revelling in my embarrassment?
*****
Cecilia's hands removed the white silk scarf blindfolding me.
"Jonas, I presume you would like to use the bathroom?" She asked.
I nodded. My mouth was still stuffed with silk.
"OK. I'll untie you, but you are still my prisoner. I've put your clothes in my car, downstairs. You have nothing to wear except my silk scarves. You might have noticed that I'm not alone. Sita is my housekeeper. Between us we could recapture you even if you tried to escape naked. But you won't. You like being my prisoner, don't you?"
I nodded again.
"OK. Sita will release you and show you where the bathroom is. I'm going to get dressed, and then I'm going out for an hour or so. Sita will give you breakfast."
As she moved away I saw that she was wearing a long white silk nightdress that slithered around her as if it was caressing her.
Sita's hands appeared. She was the younger woman who had been leaving the Indian restaurant last night. She was wearing a different silk sari with a silk cropped top in shimmering Royal blue.
"Just relax, Jonas, and I'll soon set you free. Lift your head slightly."
She removed my gag and carefully eased the silk out of my mouth.
"Sip this," she ordered.
I was resting against Sita's silk clad breast as she held a glass of water. I needed to swill the water around before I could swallow. Being gagged all night long is uncomfortable.
Sita's fingers soon loosened the knots and removed the silk scarves wrapping me and attaching me to Cecilia's bed. She had to help me to stand up because my muscles were stiff. I leant on her as we moved to the bathroom.
"You can shower while you're in there, but come out as you went in, naked. I'll be in the kitchen," she pointed, "join me in there and don't go anywhere else. Understood?"
"Yes, Sita."
She opened the door and let me enter alone. I shaved with the equipment on the bathroom shelf, showered, dried myself and went to the kitchen. Sita was loading the silk scarves that had bound me into the washing machine. She turned her head.
"Sit at the table, on that chair. This washing machine has a special setting for silk."
One chair was draped with a white satin sheet. I sat on it, enjoying the feel against my bare skin. Sita started the wash load.
"I'm making breakfast for you. Cecilia has gone out and while she's gone I'll give you an explanation of the two of us."
Sita gave me a white tabard to protect my bare skin. She offered me choice of breakfast items and talked as she prepared them. If I tried to interrupt she stopped me, initially with a soft hand over my mouth and later just by putting a finger to her lips.
Cecilia had met Sita about eight years ago at a local charity function. At first Cecilia had commented on Sita's silk sari. The two women had found they had interests in common, particularly clothing made with real silk. The real link that developed between them was about unsatisfactory men. Cecilia's and Sita's husbands were drinking too much and arguing with each other. Sita had expressed her disgust. Cecilia had agreed.
One thing led to another, particularly as the women found out that their husbands were chasing other women, sometimes successfully. Over a period of months the two women decided to try to change their husbands using silk as bondage to persuade the men. At first both husbands had liked being silk bound particularly when both women were tying one man up. But the husbands wouldn't alter nor become more reasonable partners. The play bondage became more and more realistic until the men objected, sometimes violently.
Sita and Cecilia realised that they couldn't make their husbands helpless prisoners any longer. The men weren't changing and both relationships were effectively broken. Cecilia's lawyer handled both divorce cases. The divorces were final about three years ago.
"But she and I had enjoyed making our men helpless. We turned into sexual predators seeking men to tie up. We had most success with Indian men who saw me, as an Indian divorcΓ©e, as available and without status. They changed their minds once they were restrained with silk scarves and our playthings. A few liked it for a while. Some hated it. We let them go. But you? Cecilia tells me you really enjoyed being her victim."
"I did, but..."
My 'but' was stopped as Sita pulled my head into her cleavage. My voice was muffled by silk and my head cradled between warm breasts.
"No buts, Jonas. Cecilia had you last night. She's left you for me to enjoy for an hour or so before she returns. You're not going anywhere. You have nothing to wear except silk scarves."
Sita squashed my head tighter between her breasts, smothering me. I panted for breath when she released me.
"Back to the bedroom, Jonas. This time it won't just be scarves but saris as well."
Despite myself I could feel warmth between my legs. Sita was as desirable as Cecilia. What would it be like being tied with her saris?
I stood at the foot of the bed as Sita wrapped a sari around my torso, under my arms at first, and then over them, lashing them to my sides.
"Get on the bed and lie down," she ordered.
It was slightly awkward without the use of my arms. Sita tied my ankles together with the end of another sari before wrapping it tightly around my legs. Somehow she knotted the end just below my erection that was standing proud.
Sita's hands expertly fitted a condom and a third sari was wound round and round the middle part of my body. I was sheathed in silk from beyond my feet to just below my shoulders. As she worked the loose end of her sari kept sliding across my face. I enjoyed the touch of the silk and her delicate perfume on the material.
She stood back, lifted the end of sari off her shoulders and tucked it into her waistband. She unbuttoned the front of her crop top to show a white satin bra straining to hold her breasts.