Never disturb a neighbour on baking day F/M

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Robgagged
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Never disturb a neighbour on baking day F/M

Post by Robgagged »

Hi Everyone, here is my second attempt at a story written as I hoped it might happen, hope you enjoy.


Margaret was a mature neighbour of mine, I was 40 at the time and she, as I found out later was 63. She was very aloof, the widow of a senior member of the Armed Forces and was clearly used to getting her own way by the no nonsense way she spoke to some of the neighbours. That said, she seemed to have an active social life, often entertaining (doubtless with friends of 'her type') and came home several times a week with a gym bag, having clearly been to some form of keep fit session.

We'd only ever nodded, to each other and to say that was pushing it a bit, if she didn't want to acknowledge me then two could play at that game.

One day, I had to the day off to do some work in the front garden and the postman was tried to deliver a small package to her house; she obviously wasn't in. He walked over and explained that the last time he had left a card to collect something from the Sorting Office, she'd been pretty awkward and given him a quite hard time and he didn't want to go through that again, so could I do him a big favour, take the package to give to her when she came in? I thought about saying 'No', out of spite, but in the end, I agreed.
Later that afternoon she came home and, after a short while I went round and rang the door bell. She answered the door with a curt 'Yes' and I explained that I was playing the role of postman as the poor chap had told me he was dead scared of her – she laughed and that seemed to be a bit of an ice breaker. I've always found that, if you give as good as get then people of that persuasion tend to back down. 'Well done' she said, I'm really not that fearsome, I'm just about to have some tea, would you like some ?' Well, this was an offer not to be declined and so I entered the Den of the Dragon.

Over tea, she talked incessantly, she was opinionated, rude, condescending and dismissive of just about anything and everything in the world, but you could see that she was a lonely, but very classy lady who simply liked to dominate the ground. I gave my best in arguing the opposite of everything she said and I was amazed how quickly two hours passed and how, by then, I saw her in a different light; I sensed that she grudgingly accepted being challenged. I decided it was time to go and get on with the garden and was really taken back, to the point of being speechless, when she asked me when next I might have some time off. Would I like to come round to lunch so that we could talk more and hopefully put the world to right ? I agreed,of course, and we exchanged emails for ease of communication and parted on considerably warmer terms had when I arrived.

Margaret was tall, about 5' 10” with grey hair always tied back, usually in a velvet bow, she obviously looked after herself (gym, Zumba, weights and what she called gentle circuits three times a week plus a once or twice a week swim as she later told me), nice high cheekbones, long loose limbed, with a peach of a complexion and bright blue eyes and a very ample bust. Always classily, if not expensively dressed, she was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

That meeting really put me on a high and when I got back to work I scanned my diary with urgency about a free afternoon. After a brief and still rather formal exchange of emails on her part and with some changes necessary, always to meet her busy schedule – I didn't count in the process - we agreed a date, pre lunch drinks at 1pm with the “keep it strictly casual” dress code ordered by her. I walked round admittedly with a spring in my step on the day in question and with a bunch of the finest flowers from the supermarket. She opened to door with one of her favourite expressions 'Dear Boy' 'How nice to see you again, come let's put the world to right, it is precisely Gin and Tonic o'clock'.
I must say that she really looked incredible even casually dressed, a white designer T shirt, black patterned side panel Lyra training bottoms, trainers paired with short black trainer socks, plus what she liked to call her 'trinkets', silver necklace, wrist bangles and various rings, she liked silver. She had a body to die for and I was prepared to die a thousand deaths for it. The first G and T was downed with a mutual enthusiasm and a second started. Again, she spoke almost without stopping to breathe, about her early life, convent school, later University, her married life (no children) life 'on the road' with her husband's job, posting every two years or so, and perhaps above all, the socialising, entertaining, meeting a whole range of VIP's that clearly she revelled in. The untimely death of her husband, a low time and then a determined fightback in which she had made a deliberate decision to suppress emotion. I managed to get one or two words in from time to time. One of her great loves was home baking and woe betide anyone who interrupted her when she was baking cakes; all her friends knew that this and well, it seemed that nothing, absolutely nothing, got in the way of this routine.

We were now on our third G and T and both very pleasantly relaxed. I found that, for once, she was quiet for a few minutes and I asked her if she was ever worried about her personal safety living alone. The answer she gave was both surprising and set in motion a chain of events.
'Any burglar wouldn't stand a chance dear boy' she said 'The Police would find them trussed up and ready to be taken away'. 'Just a minute Margaret' I said 'Are you seriously telling me that that you'd be able to overpower and restrain someone ?'. 'It's not a question to debate' she said with a wry grin, 'It is a matter of fact, let me repeat that they would not stand a chance'.
I decided to bait her and said 'So, if I was the burglar, you are supremely confident that you'd be able to restrain me, I say that you must be joking'. She looked at me, a hard stare and there a short, but very stony silence. 'Dear boy, it's no joke, it is a rock solid promise and, if anyone chose to be here on my baking day they would be not just be bound and gagged, I wouldn't call the Police before I'd finish my work in the kitchen, so they'd be here bound and silenced for a couple of hours, if not more. It would serve them right and I can tell you that I would certainly very much enjoy the experience'.

There was then another silence, a meaningful one as what we were both saying sank it and obviously one of us had to make a move. It was me. 'I'm going to give you an offer you can't refuse, respecting each other's wishes, I'll play the part of the burglar and I bet you can't deliver your promise, it's simply too fantastic an idea to entertain'. Still no reply, another long hard look and I thought I'd pushed my luck too far and was about to be shown the door. 'It's deal dear boy, let's agree a date and soon, but just remember that I'm going to win and I'll be baking a cake that day', so be prepared to not be going anywhere for quite a while'. It was followed by a throaty laugh.

It didn't take long for us to settle an afternoon and shortly beforehand, she sent me an email, it read :-
' We have made a promise and we both now know that a bond of respect has now been established between us that I greatly value. Things will be said and done that would not happen every day between us, but it is important we play our parts for real, 100%, and this means especially you, it is the only way and there is no other option or the plan will fail. Dear boy, I know you will do your best as I promise to do mine and I WILL deliver my promise, this I assure you, so prepare yourself physically and mentally, you will not be escaping in a hurry. On the day in question I will leave my back door open at 1.25pm, you will arrive at 1.30pm. When you come in, lock the door behind you and start to look around the house. I will, of course discover you. I want you to make some feeble excuse as to why you in the house. The scenario will then run to conclusion other than I promise you I won't call the Police ! Come with an open mind and be prepared to enjoy yourself. M.
So, the day dawned, it was a lovely Summer day, the morning passed so slowly, but I arrived home from work, changed into something casual, polo shirt, shorts, deck shoes and on the dot 1.25pm I arrived at her house with a sense of expectation and a fair degree excitement. I was quite convinced that this was not going to work out, there was simply no way she could deliver her promises.

The back door was unlocked, I went into the kitchen and locked to door behind me and slowly started my survey of the quiet house, I went into the large lounge, that was well screened to the rear and noticed something unusual. In the middle of the room was a straight backed wooden chair, perhaps a dining chair, even more unusual on the settee were a number of lengths of white rope,a leather strap red ball gag and black leather under the nose blindfold. She clearly had prepared for this, but this was surely all show and no action.
Suddenly I sensed movement behind me, she must have been in the dining room. Her first words were commanding and purposeful 'What are you doing in my house !' I turned around and the first words I spoke were 'Good God'.

Margaret was standing there, left hand on her hip, right hand behind her back. Her hair was now untied, it was shoulder length, her make up was perfect with bright red lipstick. She wore a crisp white blouse (I noted the black bra underneath) and a knee length leather skirt, black hosiery and black (very) high heels with red soles.

I remembered the script ' I'm sorry, I thought my dog had come into your house as your back door was open, he's obviously not here so I'll leave you alone, I'm very sorry to disturb you and cause unnecessary distress' and I made to leave.

'Not so fast' she said 'You are not getting away with that feeble excuse, I'm going to call the Police, but I'm not going to do that immediately, I have baking to do and that comes first'. But 'I wonder if you'd sit here all well behaved and quiet until I make the necessary 'phone call? Quite frankly, I don't think you can, you will try and escape at the first opportunity, so I'll be invoking the terms of my own very special insurance policy'. Before I could answer, she brought out her right hand and in it she had a large revolver 'My late husband's, a Webley, it's very effective so no more sound or movement without my permission, just do precisely as I tell you' Wow, this was very much for real so I decided to play along with a greater sense of enforced realism and simply nodded. 'Hands on your head, turn around, move over to the garden window. Llisten very carefully to my next instruction, it's nice and simple I want you to strip, that means everything comes off, that includes your watch and wristband. 'Ready ? Now, STRIP'. Well this was certainly a shock but she had a gun, a large one at that and all of a sudden, this didn't feel quite like the game we had intended. Off came my watch, polo shirt, deck shoes and shorts – I may perhaps have hesitated for a second as she said 'I repeat everything comes off ' and I slipped out of my boxer shorts and put my hands back on my head.

The commanding voice behind me then said 'Put your hands behind you back' and I did as bid and sensed movement. In a smooth, effective and doubtless practiced manoeuvre, a length of rope was looped around my wrists, drawn tight, looped again and again and tied off. The plain fact was that there was little, of any opportunity to flex my bound wrists. She really had done a good job of work and quickly, I was on the road to helplessness - that delicious moment that once your wrists are tied there is no turning back from the process of complete restraint. Another length of rope similarly tied brought my elbows closer together than I would have liked to which I gave and involuntary grunt.

'Turn round and face me'. I don't mind saying that this did involve a mix of pleasure as well as embarrassment as I was now hard with the excitement of the occasion. She looked down for a few seconds and said 'Nice'.'Now. sit in that chair make sure your arms go outside the backrest. I moved to the chair and did as I was told. 'Legs apart and hook your ankles around the legs of the chair' Again, I did as I complied and she turned around to get additional rope I noticed seams and Cuban heels of her stockings, now this was a real bonus.

It didn't take long for her to rope my ankles to the chair, she then moved around behind me with another short length of rope and this was fastened to the lower cross bar of the chair and again to my bound wrists making movement and escape impossible. She then tied rope to my thighs and to the front bars of the chair, there was little, if any possibility of movement. I was tied up to stay. She the advanced with the ball gag and moved behind me, 'Open wide' as soon as the ball was firmly in place she said 'Head down' and proceeded to buckle the straps of the gag tightly and without compromise. Walking around to inspect her work, she said 'Looking good' she said 'Now, why did you say you were here?' To which there was only one reply 'MMMPPPPHHH' and this received a throaty, mocking laugh. A good start, I need to struggle and grunt throughout this process. From time to time I will return and check both on your safety and security, 'Kitchen calls niw dear boy' she said 'but one more slight indignity for you'. She then picked up the blindfold, placed it over my nose, the strap was tightened tightly and I was plunged into darkness.

I found out afterwards that I had been bound and gagged for nearly two hours, the ropes she tied provided no opportunity for me to work on it other than to tug, uselessly at it and any attempt to call for help were, of course, equally useless with incomprehensible sounds, but I felt this was a necessary part of my role. I could hear activity in the kitchen and, from time to time, she would return and check on the security of my bonds but they remained tight throughout, sometimes repeating her short, throaty laugh and once a playful ruffle of my hair. She had been as good as her word and this scenario was proving to be rather worryingly enjoyable.
Eventually the blindfold was removed and the light flooded in. 'Still looking good dear boy' she said, 'But our little scenario isn't over yet'. This led to me struggling and grunting even more due to a combination of playing out the scenario and, it must be said a growing uncertainty about what on earth was to follow.

'When I was married, I was known as very popular hostess among the circles we moved in, I'll now show you why'.
She then started to unbutton her blouse, slowly removing it and revealing her ample breasts enclosed in what looked to be a very expensive black bra. Next, the leather skirt came off; she wore black French knickers with a black 8 strap suspender belt (I could still take in this sort of detail). The Gods of Genetics had been good to her she had the body of a woman half her age. She then went away for few moments and returned carrying her handbag. From it she removed a small silver foil packet – a condom. This led to even more frenzied struggling on my part, opening the packet she advanced , her hands touched me and my hardness returned and she rolled the condom on me. She then stepped away and turned her back towards me and removed her bra, my next surprise was to see a small horny devil tattoo on her right shoulder blade. She then brought down her hands to thumb down and step out of her French knickers.I noticed the perfectly straight seams of her Cuban heeled stockings, wryly thinking that no lesser standard would do for her. She stood there for a few moments, hands on hips, heeled, stockinged feet slightly apart just waiting, teasing her bound and gagged prisoner. She then turned to face me and moved slowly and sensually towards me, I noted another slight surprise, a Brazilian waxing. Bending forward to cradle my head in her hands so that I looked up and into those beautiful eyes. "We both know that I'd love to kiss you dear boy as I hope you would oblige me, but you agreed to the rules, you are still my prisoner and it will suit us both well that you remain in a state of restrained silence, of course I want to feel you struggle against the inevitable and I know that you won't disappoint me with your increasingly loud, but futile attempts to call out, make sure that you put effort into this, no second best.".

Immediately before straddling and then lowering herself on to me, she said 'Tell me dear boy, did you think that I had both Brazilian wax and a tattoo?' Well, today was a first. Her high heels on the floor provided additional support as she started to slowly move up and down...........................
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Mommy's Naughty Boy
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Post by Mommy's Naughty Boy »

Whoah! That is delicious to say the least! Great job so far. Please continue.
MaxRoper
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Post by MaxRoper »

Absolutely fabulous! A neighbour I'd love to have. Your descriptions, character development, and dialog are spot on.
Thanks for posting! I look forward to more from you.
Boundcurious
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Post by Boundcurious »

I enjoyed that, thank you 😊
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