The Shoplifter (M/F, rainwear, some bondage. No sex)

[mason]

The Shoplifter (M/F, rainwear, some bondage. No sex)

“Hey!” My furious shout echoed around the shop as the small, dark-haired woman darted outside before I had time to block her exit. I glanced outside: no chance of catching her – the wind and rain had swallowed her up as though she had been a mirage. I just hoped that she appreciated the very costly shiny black rubber raincoat that she’d taken. It would keep her dry, no worries. That’s what I do for a crust: sell rainwear of every colour and description. It’s trendy these days. The unforgettable moment when Paris Hilton stepped out in a gorgeous sunny yellow plastic number – with a matching sou’ wester and tie-belt spanning her slim waist sparked a major fashion revival, transforming rainwear from a slightly daggy, somewhat uncool ‘accessory’ to the hottest fashion item going around these days. Never underestimate the power of celebrity. Funny that; I’d never liked her – until now.

The revival of plastic rainwear as every young woman’s essential “must-have” accessory coincided with the establishment of my small business in a quiet lane branching off one of the major fashion thoroughfares of the City where I live. My business was, and is, more a labour of love than any attempt to cash in on the latest craze sweeping the world. Not since the halcyon days of the swinging sixties was plastic rainwear so “in”, much to my delight.

I’m one of those odd souls who adores the old-fashioned yet largely unappreciated pleasure of slipping on a lovely smooth plastic mac, fastidiously doing up each button before fastening the attached hood (or sou’ wester) in place and heading outside in the drumming rain. There’s also nothing like listening to the soothing ‘pitter-patter’ of rain ineffectually bouncing off the impermeable plastic protecting me and watching each raindrop beading before succumbing to gravity and sliding downwards. How I wished that more people could enjoy this unique, almost child-like pleasure, instead of fearing the wet and stubbornly staying inside whenever the weather turned nasty.

There’s no such thing as “bad” weather – always think positive! They were all reasons I created “Just Ducky” Rainwear. It’s true: if you enjoy what you do, you’re bound to do well. I’ve never feared going to “work” either (imagine the sight of our City’s prettiest young things trying on rustling, rippling plastic rainwear and you’ve got some idea why I enjoy my job so much).

Life was good. The only real cloud on the horizon (pun unintended) was the usual problems of falling sales while expenses continued to rise – especially rent, among other things. The latest fad for rainwear was maturing and there was much more competition for less dollars as well. Therefore, it was with more than a little annoyance that I could only watch another hundred bucks or so walk out the door. Most people were nice but there was always that crooked element who preferred a nice, juicy five-finger discount over actually paying for anything, never mind that it was our livelihoods at stake.

It was time to bite the bullet and install some kind of security system. I can’t be everywhere at once. Hopefully, it would deter all but the most hardened criminals from taking anything.

Less than a fortnight later, my little shop became a fortress. Nothing obvious or terribly in-your-face, just basic anti-theft measures such as ostentatiously placed cameras and a large (colour) monitor facing customers when they entered my shop coupled with a sign that stated, “Video continuously recording”, re-arranging clothes racks to reduce blind spots and so on. I couldn’t use electronic security tags because plastic, PVC and rubber all tear easily. It was a potential Achilles heel that I had to overcome. However, they said that general deterrence was the key to reducing, if not preventing shoplifting. The people who helped install everything were experts. They taught me what to look out for – particularly large clothing, coats, bags and other suspicious behaviour such as constantly looking around. Real customers browse; they don’t monitor staff to see if they’re watching them. They also explained how important it was to approach everyone who came inside – not only as a matter of good business practise – but letting them know that I’m aware of their presence. At the end of the day, my eyes were the most valuable weapon that I possessed.

Almost to my chagrin, nothing happened for several weeks: of course it could also mean that my new Loss Prevention program was working. My computerised inventory system hadn’t recorded any unusual “shrinkage” (although I still had to check everything manually) so it was looking good. If deterrence was the key, then it was succeeding beyond my wildest dreams. I was a happy camper.

Until the day that an elfin young woman with purple hair parted in the centre with orange streaks in front mooched inside. Although I’d been warned that appearances don’t provide any guide to shoplifting (80 year old grannies can be every bit as larcenous as juvenile teenagers), I instinctively mistrusted the girl on sight. Perhaps it was the baggy army camo pants tucked inside a pair of oversize leather boots decorated with all manner of straps and buckles or her (open) orange pleather jacket over a off-white crop-top vainly concealing the tell-tale bulge of a very nice pair of breasts. Her navel was clearly visible though and I swallowed before approaching her. She was attractive. Her intelligent blue eyes insolently gazed into mine as I plastered a not entirely fake smile on my lips before asking if I could help.

The girl did not look entirely pleased to see me. Her reply was short and curt: “Ah yes… I’m… just looking.”

“Yeah well,” I replied. “Just let me know if I can help.”

She nodded before pointedly turning her back on me, presenting me with a perfect view of her shapely posterior. It was then that I noticed a large shopping bag that she was carrying. It was barely full and my warning antennae instantly went onto red alert. This girl was trouble – with a capital ‘T’. I wanted to boot her outside but I didn’t dare. She could be a genuine customer. Her interest in the long soft plastic macs hanging from the wall-mounted racks was real and unfeigned. She was handling them with a reverence that I rarely saw and I smiled. The girl was fondling each raincoat in her hands, running the impossibly smooth plastic between her fingers in a manner that suggested her interest might not be of the purely practical kind. Perhaps … ?

Eventually she selected a deep orange raincoat complete with a drawstring hood and several deep pockets. So far, she’d behaved much like any other shopper, totally ignoring me as she held the raincoat aloft, the weak early-morning sunlight bathing it in a golden effulgence. Then she glanced around sneakily, almost guiltily. Our eyes caught and she immediately turned away, replacing the raincoat on the rack before progressing further downwards. The door opened and a young couple strolled inside.

Unlike the punkish girl perusing the raincoats in the far corner, the new arrivals knew exactly what they wanted. They’d just bought a scooter (“an Italian Vespa!” she breathlessly informed me) and could I help find something for them to wear? I was acutely conscious of the girl’s gaze as I helped them select a matching pair of heavier duty rainsuits in sunshine yellow and hot pink. Their rainsuits looked fantastic and I was not surprised that they opted to wear them out of the shop – a longish hip-length jacket, matching bib pants and, and all (it wasn’t even raining either). She was positively resplendent in pink. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Neither could I, for that matter.

It was then that the girl made her move as I rang up the sale. She slipped past with such surprising swiftness that I was almost caught unaware. Her bag looked much fuller. The orange raincoat hanging in solitary splendour between its cousins was missing. “Hey!” I gasped with sudden fury as she yanked the door open. “Stop!”

She halted for a moment with a brief guilty glance before darting outside. Forgetting all about my stunned customers, I ran after the girl. She momentarily disappeared behind a corner before reappearing ahead of me as I rounded the block. Her purple and orange tresses bounced up and down as she picked up speed, gliding between everyone like Pele in full flight. They were impossible to miss among the milling crowd of late Saturday shoppers and I had no trouble following her as her trot became a run.

“Stop, thief!” I screamed.

I had no chance of catching her. She already had a good head-start on me and I’m not in the best of shape. Fury, however, lent me a pair of wings that I never knew existed. Then a miracle occurred. She tripped, stumbled before staggering into the arms of an enormously fat woman who attached herself to the girl like a limpet as they pirouetted down the footpath before recovering their balance. I caught up with Purple Hair the same instant that Fatso released her.

The girl squawked with shock and outrage as she violently twisted and struggled to escape my iron grip. “Not so fast, bitch,” I growled. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let me go!” she wailed.

“I believe that you’ve got some property which belongs to me,” I replied with a calmness that I didn’t feel.

“Fuck off!” she squealed. “I haven’t got anything!”

“Then you won’t mind if I look inside your bag,” I coldly replied. She struggled harder but I held on tightly. I was determined that this fish wasn’t getting away.

She closed her eyes before groaning and shaking her head. “You’ve got no right,” she weakly protested. “I’ll sue.”

“The law says that I’m allowed to use reasonable force to detain anybody shop-stealing,” I calmly retorted. “I will let you go after I’ve examined your bag. Otherwise, I have no option but call the police.”

“Ok… ok, you win!” she moaned, pushing her bag into my other hand. “I’m sorry I took your raincoat! Please let me go now!”

“I don’t think so,” I coolly replied, as I increased my grip on her slender arm above the elbows. “I’m fed-up with people like you stealing from me and besides… you were not only rude but you lied to me. Now come on, before I really lose my temper.”

“Oh come on,” the girl protested. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“Not sorry enough,” I sneered. “You’re coming with me – whether you like it or not.”

“What’s going on here?” a corpulent corporate said. “Can I be of any assistance, ma’am?”

“Piss off,” I snorted. “I just busted her for shoplifting. She tried to steal a raincoat. If you want to be smart,” I said, addressing the girl more than the interfering busybody hovering over her, “I’ve also got everything recorded on film. Now please accompany me to the shop.”

She sullenly rose before allowing me to escort her back the way we’d come. The stupid suit had disappeared. He didn’t even offer an apology. Lawsuits were the least of my worries – I had her bang to rights and it’d also been captured on celluloid. More worryingly, I’d left the shop unattended along with temporarily abandoning my customers, who hadn’t even paid for their purchases yet! They’d probably taken off by now – with almost 200 bucks worth of stock – if they already hadn’t cleared out the rest of the shop first. The temptation certainly was immense. My spirits plunged even further and I roughly dragged my unwilling, protesting captive along the footpath before rounding the corner.

The scooter was still there and I gustily exhaled as my head spun with relief. Its rider was standing outside staring in my direction as I approached her and I couldn’t help smiling again. God, she looked so cute in her gorgeous pink and white plastic rainsuit! “Hello,” she smiled upon spotting us.

“Hi,” I smiled. I didn’t know what to say. It was a totally fraught moment. “Uh, thanks for looking after the shop.”

“It was a pleasure,” she beamed, her chin dimpling as she smiled. “It was the least we could do. We could hardly leave without paying for our lovely rainsuits first, could we?”

I grinned as my unwilling charge squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m glad you like them. Reckon they’ll keep you nice and dry. Anyway, thanks again for… helping out. Uh, if you don’t mind, I’ll ring up your purchases now before I attend to… her.”

The girl nodded, her nose wrinkling with disgust as she studied my dishevelled, increasingly tearful captive. Her glistening rainwear sparkled and shone in the bright sun. “It’s OK, I – we – totally understand,” she brightly said before adding, “Thank you as well for looking after us so well. We’ll certainly recommend you to all our friends.”

After accepting payment for their rainsuits (I gave them a 25% discount), they departed with a loud rustle of crinkly plastic. I hung the ‘Closed’ sign on the door before turning to face the shivering, trembling girl who’d lost most of her earlier bravado.

“Now then,” I said sternly, “would you mind explaining why you felt it necessary to steal one of my raincoats?”

“Um… because … I liked it,” she sullenly mumbled, before adding, “It’s a beautiful raincoat.”

“That’s not good enough,” I coldly replied. “Stealing something that does not belong to you is not only wrong; it is also a felony crime.” I glared full in her face before continuing. “I work very hard in order to earn a living, so I can eat, drink and pay my bills. In short, I actually pay my way, unlike you.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Please let me go now.”

“Not so fast, young girl!” I angrily replied. “You think I’m just going to let you off that easily? I think I’ll just hand you over to the police and let them deal with it. Otherwise you won’t learn anything.”

She abruptly crumbled. “No! Please no!” she begged. “Don’t give me to the police!”

“Well …” I said slowly and deliberately, “you tell me why I shouldn’t take you to the coppers and press charges against you. Been in trouble with the coppers before, huh? I don’t like you or your attitude very much. You’re in a fair bit of trouble, me girl.”

The girl buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry for what I did – stealing and all that. I know it’s wrong, what I did.”

“You’re only sorry because I busted you,” I sarcastically replied. “Come on, I think we’ll just go visit the police right now.”

“No!” she shouted, desperately clutching my arm to emphasise her words. “I – I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything you want. But please … just don’t take me to the police.”

“Anything?” I slowly replied.

“Yeah… anything,” she hopefully replied, her beautiful green eyes pleading into mine for succour.

“I’m not going to let you off or anything like that, mind,” I carefully replied. “I can’t simply let you off scot-free; otherwise you won’t learn anything from this. And if it’s sex you’re offering, forget it.”

“Yeah…” she nodded reluctant assent. “So… what do you want me to do?”

“I’ve got an idea,” I breathlessly said as an idea formed deep within my racing brain. It was wrong, it was wicked. But I might never have another opportunity like this again. It wasn’t like she had any choice either. Ok, so I was taking advantage of her. But hey, life’s not fair either. Besides, she’d nicked – tried to, anyway – one of my raincoats. It was all the justification I needed to carry out my plan.

“What?” she sighed.

“Like I said… I’m not going to let you off just like that,” I slowly replied. “Ok… I’ve decided to detain you – here – until closing time. Then I’ll let you go – but only if you’ve been good.”

“Oh…” said in a tiny, almost inaudible voice. I could see the gears in her brain cogitating.

“Yes I know,” I pretended to muse. “You must think I’m stupid or something. “You’ll be out the door so fast it’s not funny while I’m busy - right?”

The expression decorating her face told me that I’d hit the nail right on the head.

“That’s why… I’m going to restrain you,” I said.

“Huh … ? Restrain?”

“That’s right. Restrain. I’m going to tie you up.”

“What?” she gasped. “But you… can’t. I’ll press charges for assault, battery, kidnapping. I’ll…”

“You’ll do no such thing,” I coldly informed her. “I caught you red-handed shop-lifting. It’s all on film – wanna look?” I remorselessly continued. “You tried to make a run for it. I effected a citizen’s arrest. Then you tried to escape so I was forced to restrain you – tie you up. No one’ll believe your story.”

Defeated, her shoulders slumped.

“This is your own fault,” I continued. “This is your punishment for shop-stealing, being rude to me and lying. Just accept it, cop it sweet and it’ll be all over for you that much quicker. Otherwise…” I let the words hang in the air.

“Ok, ok, you can tie me up,” she resentfully replied. “I don’t know why this is necessary though.”

“Because I can,” I replied, feeling momentarily sorry for the girl before quashing my feelings. I gazed into her elfin face. She was pretty – very pretty. In other happier circumstances… I pushed the thought out of my head before continuing. “You’re being punished, remember.” The fear in her eyes was palpable. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m simply going to restrain you for a while so you can think about your behaviour.”

“Yeah… OK,” she sighed.

“That’s better,” I smiled. “Cooperation is the name of the game here. Now then, what’s your name?”

She thought for a moment before reluctantly replying. “Melissa.”

“That’s a nice name,” I commented. “Mine’s David – although I must confess that I wish we’d met in more pleasant circumstances.”

A tiny smile flickered across her lips before just as swiftly vanishing. “Yeah. Me too.”

I don’t know why but I couldn’t help liking this expressive, lively little creature, despite her behaviour earlier. There was something about Melissa that drew people towards her orbit. It was only with effort that I reminded myself why we were here. “Now… if you would be kind enough to step this way,” I said with exaggerated courtesy, “then we will begin.”

“Uh … where are we going?” she asked with not a little nervousness.

“I live here,” I informed her. “Upstairs actually. But there’s a small storeroom, a kitchen and toilet right out back – that’s where I’ll tie you.”

She sighed loudly. “I see. Is this really necessary? I don’t want to be tied up.”

“Yes, it is,” I curtly replied. “This is your punishment, remember? Unless you’d rather have a chat with the coppers instead?”

Melissa hung her head. “Ok, ok, you win. Just tie me up then,” she said with a defiant shake of her head.

“Have you ever been tied up before?” I asked.

“Er … no.”

“Well, there’s always a first time,” I grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got no plans to hurt you. Restrain you, yes. Hurt – no.”

“Well, thanks for being so considerate,” she sarcastically replied. “Like I’ve got any choice!”

“You made your choice earlier,” I pointed out. “After you,” I added with mock courtesy.

“Oh …” Melissa gasped as we entered the storeroom, where I keep surplus stock. It was a veritable Aladdin’s cave of shiny, glistening smooth plastic and PVC. Raincoats, trenches’ and two-piece rainsuits in every colour and size filled each rack to overflowing. The intoxicating aroma of freshly minted plastic was overpowering in the still air. Melissa gazed around with delight and wonder, forgetting why she was here. “They’re all so beautiful!” Melissa exclaimed, her eyes betraying her longing.

“Yes, they are,” I agreed before adding. “Maybe if you behave yourself, I’ll let you try some of them on before you go home.”

“Oh, could I? Thanks!”

Against all my instincts, I found myself warming to this strange girl more and more as she gazed around like a kid in a lolly shop. “Later,” I said as I dragged out an old mahogany chair with a curved back supported by a series of rods spaced perhaps an inch apart or so. It sat on four wide straight, slightly splayed sturdy legs supported by a pair of slats. I could see Melissa eyeing it apprehensively as I positioned it in the centre of the room. “Ok, strip,” I said with a casualness that I did not feel.

“What?!?”

“You heard. Strip. Take your clothes off,” I replied.

“B- but what for? Why?” she expostulated.

“Because I want to be absolutely sure that you’re not concealing anything else,” I explained. “Standard operating procedure.” It wasn’t true, of course, but she wouldn’t know that. I just wanted to perve on her luscious body.

Melissa sighed heavily enough to rustle the raincoats. “Why should I?”

“Fine,” I replied. “We’ll just go see the poo-lice then. Maybe they’ll assign some butch lezzo to search you.”

Her angry glare speared through me as she reluctantly allowed her jacket to drop. If looks could kill, I would’ve dropped dead on the spot. Her voice was cold as she asked, “Everything?”

I nodded. “Everything,” before placatingly adding, “but you can keep your bra and panties on.”

“Geez, thanks a bunch,” she complained. “You’re mean.”

“Not half as mean as shoplifting,” I reminded her.

Melissa actually nodded. “Yeah…” She closed her eyes before inhaling. “Ok, I’ll do it,” she eventually sighed before kneeling and unlacing her unwieldy boots. The show which followed was one I’ll never forget. After neatly placing her boots out of harms way, Melissa unselfconsciously stepped out of her pants, exposing a lovely pair of cream lace-trimmed knickers. Nice… My throat was unnaturally dry. Melissa’s white tank top swiftly followed leaving her semi-naked, save for her French undies protecting what little remained of her modesty. “Happy now?” she coolly asked. “Seen enough?”

I grinned. Melissa was one of the most delectable women whom I’d ever met. Her luscious, curvaceous body was a dream. Her perfect breasts thrusted outward proudly, as if eager for attention. I just hoped that she couldn’t see how much this was affecting me. “Anyway… since you like wearing raincoats so much, you can wear the one that you took earlier.” I delved inside Melissa’s bag. “Here, put it on,” I ordered.

Oh …” Melissa said but she didn’t offer any other protest as she pulled it on. Her breathing was heavier now as she carefully fastened each button, sealing her body inside a semi transparent plastic cocoon. Finally only the belt remained, which she tightly cinched around her slim waist.

“Now do up the hood – tight,” I ordered.

Melissa smiled before unhesitatingly complying; pulling the great gleaming translucent plastic dome over her hair before drawing it tight around her face, framing her lovely features in crinkly plastic as she securely tied the laces tight beneath her chin.

“Oh wowwww…” Melissa closed her eyes as she wonderingly caressed the soft plastic folds of her raincoat with both hands. “Feels nice,” she eventually said.

“They look and feel wonderful,” I offered in my best salesman voice. “Guaranteed a hundred percent waterproof too.”

For the first time, Melissa laughed. “Yes, it is,” she said. “I’ll take one for sure.”

I decided that it wasn’t a good time to remind her how she’d already tried. Instead, I said, “They’re pretty popular.”

“I can see why,” Melissa mused. “I love it.”

I bit my lip before half-turning away. Melissa was beautiful. She was resplendent in her plastic mac. The girl was admiring her reflection in a small wall mirror and I smiled again before speaking. “I hate to spoil your fun but it’s time to get going.”

“Yeah… ok,” she sighed. Her eyes fell on the box that I’d dragged out of its little hidey-hole while she was dressing. It was crammed full with rope and other paraphernalia that tends to accumulate over time. “You’re going to tie me up now?”

“Yup,” I happily agreed. “I’m going to tie you up. Please put your hands behind your back.”

Melissa obeyed with surprising alacrity, obediently crossing her hands over each other behind her back ready for tying. Luckily I’d just spent last weekend going through everything with a broom and selecting the cord that I needed was simplicity itself. I like to be organised; you never know when it’ll pay off – and how! I hoped that Melissa wouldn’t notice how much my hands were shaking as I lashed my beautiful captive’s wrists together, criss-crossing the cords over each other with a diagonal lashing, carefully cinching and knotting everything before cutting off any chance of escape with a square lashing which I also cinched to remove any slack and knotting everything far out of reach of her questing fingers. It was overkill but when I tie someone, they stay tied. I’d learned plenty during my Boy Scout days.

“Ooh,” she said in a very small voice, ineffectually tugging on her bonds before giving up. “I don’t think I’m going to get out of this.”

“That’s the general idea,” I cheerfully replied. “Does it hurt at all?”

“Nope, I … I’m fine,” she replied in a high, breathy voice.

“Good to hear,” I replied. “Ok, please sit down now.”

Melissa carefully eased herself down on the seat of the chair and I helped lift the girl’s bound hands over the back which rose just below her armpits.

“Make yourself comfy,” I teased. “You might be sitting around for a while.”

“Yeah, yeah …” she sighed with mock exasperation. Then cheekily, “Do your worst!”

“That I shall,” I replied with equally mock seriousness. Why did I have the feeling that Melissa had – somehow – managed to regain the upper hand? Her eyes were boring into mine and I had the uncomfortable sense that she could see right through my soul. Hurriedly, I gathered up another, shortish length of rope before kneeling and taking her svelte ankle in my hand. Her curiosity was palpable as I guided it to the left leg of her chair before lashing it into position. Cinch, knot. Then the other, leaving her inelegantly positioned with a grandstand view of her crotch. Melissa was now bound hand and foot.

“Wow… I’m really helpless now,” Melissa mused as she gingerly tested her bonds.

“I hate to say this but I think that you won’t be going anywhere in a hurry,” I smiled.

“I think so too,” she ruefully replied. “So… what now? That’s it?”

I grinned. “I thought you’d ask,” I replied while I ostentatiously selected a much longer hank of rope. “Not quite. I haven’t finished tying you up yet.”

“You’re really worried that I’ll escape or something?” Melissa jeered.

“Something like that,” I casually replied before leering, “Besides … I like tying up cute girls like you.”

“I knew it, I just knew it …” she smirked. “Ok tie me up then. Have fun. But be sure that you tie me up but good n’ tight coz if I escape…”

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” I replied, “because I’m going to truss you up but good.” Without giving her a chance to reply, I doubled the ends into two before passing everything over Melissa’s shoulders and seating the rope just below the delicious swell of her plastic covered breasts. Her eyes were saucers as I tightened the loop (actually an oversize lark’s head knot) before setting off. It was a journey that I would never forget. Around and around I went, looping the doubled strand of cord around Melissa’s chest, arms and the chair back. Melissa was a statue while I tied her up. Her glowing eyes were huge and luminous as she gazed downward where her breasts were now surrounded by twin bands of cord. The tight cords forced them outwards slightly, emphasising her femineity. It was such a delicious sight that I could hardly tear my eyes away from them.

Melissa was aware of my gaze and she flushed hotly but didn’t say anything. To cover my embarrassment and confusion, I hastily set about harnessing her to the chair, which only made matters worse.

I had to tie a knot in the centre of the cords circling Melissa just below her breasts and touching them was virtually unavoidable, although I did my best. Much to her credit, she passed no comment. I drew the trailing ends upwards, up and over Melissa’s shoulder before looping the ends between her back and the cords already circling her body, then repeating the process in reverse. There was still several feet of rope left so I drew the ends over the curved back of the chair before tying off everything. Although escape by now was a physical and mathematical impossibility, I resolved to see this out. By the time I finished tying her up, she would be unable to achieve much more than wriggle her fingers. By now, Melissa had resigned herself to her fate; she was not offering any objection – if anything my beautiful prisoner actually gave every appearance of enjoying herself… ?!? I tried not to think about the exciting possibilities lying ahead of me. Instead, I carried on binding her.

I did not have to worry about Melissa escaping any longer; she was securely tied now so I took my time selecting the cord that I needed while she nervously looked on. Her earlier bravado and cheekiness had disappeared; I think Melissa had realised that she was in this for the long haul. She’d seen the rope that the bag contained (lots) and I planned to use most, if not all of it on her. I was looking forwards to seeing her face when she saw the other surprises that it contained…

Eventually I selected an impossibly long hank of rope. It was almost two hundred feet long – overkill really – but that was not the point here. Her eyes widened when she spotted the rope. “Is that… really necessary?” Melissa asked in an unusually plaintive voice.

“Yes, it is,” I replied in a sharper voice than necessary (if only to re-establish who the boss was) before adding, “I’m not kidding around any longer. I’m tying you up to teach you a lesson. Remember? Now shut up and be quiet – you’re staying whether you like it or not.”

“I guess so,” she sullenly replied, clearly nettled that I was going to tie her up more.

“Good.” Her angry glare bored into me as I doubled the cord into two but I didn’t give two hoots for what Melissa thought (actually I did but I wasn’t going to let on as much). Instead I ignored her gaze as I passed the cords over her head before positioning them around waist height just above the belt neatly tucking her stomach inwards. Despite doubling it into two, pulling almost a hundred feet of cord through the rabbit (simply the lark’s head knot that I was creating) still required a couple of minutes of effort. From here, the going would be easier though. After fussily adjusting everything (I wasn’t in a hurry), so that nothing would overlap and pinch her skin, I finally set off, winding and winding more and more rope around Melissa’s lovely slim waist and the chair back, pinning her ever more securely to it.

I was on a roll now! It was a long time since my heart felt this full while I continued tying up Melissa. Despite her unsubtly feigned annoyance, there was a glow deep within her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. Her breath was also audibly shorter. Greatly encouraged, I breathlessly carried on as if tying up a beautiful girl was nothing out of the ordinary. Aware that Melissa would exert every ounce of energy she had into escaping, I methodically cinched the cords circling her stomach tight before attaching them to other ropes in turn, effectively weaving her into an impenetrable, inescapable harness of rope.

Now for the fun bit. I hesitated before plunging ahead. My tied up toy was in no position to protest. Melissa owed me one anyway for the aggro she’d caused earlier. There was still heaps of rope left and I tied a knot in the centre of the cords pinioning Melissa to the chair before passing it between her legs. I could feel her penetrating gaze studying every move that I made but so far she hadn’t made any protest – I don’t think she realised what I intended. Her innocence was truly touching.

Somehow I managed to thread the ends beneath the chair seat and her botty, away from her accusing eyes. I pulled until only a couple of inches slack remained. Still she hadn’t caught on.

“No! Don’t!” Melissa suddenly objected. “What are you- You can’t!”

“But I can,” I replied, as I fastidiously positioned the cords in the centre of Melissa’s crotch. Ignoring her deadly gaze, I blithely continued, “You’ll enjoy this.”

“Don’t you dare!” she wailed, finally finding her voice. “You can’t!”

Ignoring her increasingly strident protests, I calmly walked around behind Melissa who was flinging herself against her bonds without making the slightest impression upon them. I leant downward before grasping the dangling cords and pulling. Melissa’s shriek rent the air as I pulled her crotchrope tight, cleaving her cleft in two. Yet there was no real anger in her cries as I jerked the cords that much tighter before looping, winding and knotting off the trailing ends so that nothing would slip.

Melissa’s crotchrope was more than simply aesthetic; it had a critical role to play in pinning her that much more securely to the chair. No longer could she slide forward during any escape attempts. It also effectively discouraged her from trying either – not that Melissa was aware of the fact as she angrily strained against her unyielding ropes. Her face was very red as she squirmed in her bonds before giving up.

“You can’t do this!” she loudly complained. “I didn’t say that you could-”

“tie you up like this, baby?” I smiled before caressing Melissa’s shoulder. “But like I said - I can and will. Remember why-”

“Oh, come on!” she complained. “That’s enough. Just untie me now!”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“I can’t believe that this is happening,” she moaned before raising her voice. “There’s … laws against this kind of thing, remember?”

“Like shop stealing?” I calmly retorted.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Language, language,” I smiled. “Behave yourself if you want me to let you go later.”

Melissa smiled before boldly meeting my eyes. “Oh yeah? I’ll scream,” she triumphantly said.

“Little girls should be seen and not heard,” I mused. “Be quiet.”

Our eyes met.

“– or I’ll gag you.”

“You’ll what?” Melissa’s face was a picture. “Gag…”

“Yes - gag you,” I said with as much firmness as I could muster.

“You wouldn’t dare!” she expostulated.

“Yes, I would,” I replied.

“Go right ahead and see what happens,” she smirked. “I will scream.”

“No you won’t,” I smiled.

“You think so?”

I nodded. “Positive.” I picked up Melissa’s gag.

“Ohhh!” she gasped. Melissa’s eyes were saucers.

“Reckon this’ll keep you quiet or what?” I rhetorically asked.

Melissa mutely nodded as her stunned gaze roamed over the deep red ball nestling within a seemingly Gordian tangle of glossy black leather straps and shiny buckles.

I didn’t give Melissa time to regain her lost equilibrium. “Ok, come on – open your mouth!” I barked.

Melissa didn’t even protest as she dumbly opened wide. Before she had time to object, I peremptorily pushed the big ball between her lips, carefully wedging it in place behind her teeth before fastening the first pair of straps which I tightly buckled behind the nape of her neck.

“MmMHHmmMMM!” Melissa abruptly realised what was happening and she indignantly shook her head between loudly protesting – thank God it was mostly totally unintelligible for I was sure that she wasn’t complimenting me on my handiwork.

“Shut up,” I replied by way of courtesy. “Now be quiet,” I soothingly said before looping the second strap over Melissa’s face and joining it with its cousin just above the nape of her neck. I liked the way the inverted ‘V’ of the straps (before joining each other to become one) neatly framed her cute button nose as I pulled everything tight.

Her furious glare pierced me like a thousand daggers as I unceremoniously prodded her chin, pushing her face upward – before buckling the attached chin strap – very tight – forcing her jaws down on the huge ball wedged between her lips. The last couple of straps (one on each side of Melissa’s head, just behind her ears) were almost anticlimactic: they simply served to prevent my pretty – and thoroughly miffed - captive from working anything loose. I silently blessed the fiendishly inventive minds of whoever dreamed up this contraption, while I happily studied my fuming prisoner with a critical eye.

“Silence is golden,” I teased. “Didn’t you know that?”

Melissa disbelievingly shook her head, trying to dislodge her gag before giving up. The combination of my tightly applied straps and the sticky plastic covering her head ensured that nothing would slip. Amusement flickered in her eyes and I grinned. “I think I like you much better like this,” I laughed before leaning forward. “Seriously, you are being punished – but – if you have any real problems, just let me know OK? This is about restraint, not torture, remember.”

She nodded, clearly relieved that I wasn’t going to hurt her. I swallowed. My throat was very dry. There was something terribly affecting about the delicious sight facing my eyes. Melissa was beautiful. Her eyes caught mine, capturing them with an understanding that transcended words as she squirmed and writhed in her bonds. She was a sorceress, mesmerising me with her beauty. I had no chance of resisting her. Her plastic raincoat glistened beneath the soft, effulgent glow of the ceiling lights. As if guessing my thoughts. Melissa strained against the ropes holding her tight again before giving up.

“You’ll keep,” I said before tearing my eyes away from her and selecting another hank of rope which I used to lash Melissa’s upper thighs to the seat of the chair. Although I’d already taken care of my lovely captive’s ankles, I decided that they required further securing: so I tied her legs (just above her shins) to each chair leg just below the seat.

I glanced around, intending to continue – but I’d used up every piece of rope on Melissa. Oh my word. I stepped backward to admire the work of art that I’d created: for beautiful Melissa was just that. There she sat, tied up hand and foot, her raincoat glistening like dewdrops as she “fought” her bonds, straining against her crotchrope, wriggling about like an overexcited puppy in a valiant but ultimately vain attempt to loosen the web of rope holding her fast. Her eyes were inexpressibly soft as they regarded mine. I couldn’t speak so I caressed her on the shoulder before leaving the room.

It was only with the greatest of effort that I managed to carry on as normal – it was busy today (rainwear’s a lot more popular than it used to be and we also receive a lot of “word-of-mouth” business) – because I could not erase the unforgettable image of my tied up toy out back, scant feet away from where I was standing behind the counter. If Melissa was really determined to draw attention to herself, all she had to do was bang her feet against the floor or grunt out aloud (no gag is ever totally effective) but – she did not utter so much as a single sound.

Eventually I found time to dash out back during one of my infrequent lulls in business to check on Melissa. There she sat, calmly regarding me as if being tied up and gagged was the most normal thing in the world, and I smiled. “Are you OK?”

She hesitantly, tremulously nodded before a wicked gleam appeared in her eyes. Melissa luxuriously heaved and strained against her bonds, her slim fingers sensuously seeking out-of-reach knots, working out each set of cords in turn while I stared. The chair rocked and creaked but otherwise she made absolutely no impression upon her ropes. The front of her plastic raincoat was streaked with drool from her gag.

“Mmm-hhhhmmm-mmhmmm!” A low moan issued from her gagged lips but it contained no distress; if anything, it conveyed undeniable pleasure, perhaps something more than that? I had the unsettling impression that she’d somehow turned the tables. I was the one who’d been captured: even more uncomfortably, I was acutely aware that I could easily fall in love with this strange girl who’d entered my life with the suddenness of a whirlwind. I could feel her eyes boring into me; I couldn’t face the knowledge that I would find there. Like a coward, I turned and fled without so much as a by-your-leave.

I have no idea how I got through the remainder of the afternoon; it was all a bit of a blur: answering the phone, serving customers, receiving orders (which I had to inventory and stow away in the stock room while she looked on), arranging rainwear for a magazine shoot (did I tell you how big it is nowadays?) between regularly checking up upon my captive who obligingly put on one Oscar-winning performance after another for my benefit. In short, I was a jittery, jangled mess of nerves, and I still had to think about untying her afterwards.

At last six o’clock rolled around after a very long day. I’d never been so glad to close the doors after ushering my last splendidly attired customers out (the majority of people wear their purchases out of my shop for some reason) and lock up. It’d been a good day business wise, although the same couldn’t be said about my nerves.

After locking up and clearing out the cash register (simply a matter of good business practise rather than trust), I awkwardly cleared my throat before entering the storeroom where Melissa still sat as tightly bound and gagged as ever. The girl hadn’t made the slightest impression upon her ropes and I paused to admire the beauty of my captive in her raincoat and ropes before politely coughing to let her know that I was back.

Melissa’s eyes flickered with pleasure when she saw me again and I smiled. I was really beginning to warm to this likeable girl who’d borne her “punishment” (if that’s really what it was) with such dignity and stoicism. After all, she’d been tied up – and gagged - for something like six or seven hours by now. Or perhaps… there was another reason. I hardly dared hope. If only I could keep her longer… “Are you OK?” I asked and she quickly nodded before boldly gazing into my eyes and heaving against her ropes again.

“Down, boy!” I sternly told myself before trying to hide my discomfiture as best as I could. That blasted girl could see right through me. “Um... well… it’s six o’clock now,” I awkwardly said. “Anyway, I promised you that I would let you go – and so I will, because you’ve been good and behaved yourself.”

Melissa’s eyes twinkled.

With as much sternness as I could muster, I asked the sixty-four dollar question. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?”

Her head bobbed up and down. At least she had the grace to look chastened. Her cheeks had coloured: I privately thought that rosy-pink contrasted nicely with the deep orange of her raincoat, but I did not dare say so.

“Well… in that case … Do you want me to untie you now?”

Again Melissa inclined her head but with somewhat less eagerness than I’d expected.

“Ok… well … in that case, I guess… I’ll let you go now,” I replied. Already a sense of loss was closing in around my heart.

“Thanks,” Melissa said after the last ropes fell from her wrists. Her voice was toneless, inscrutable.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, wishing that I could learn more about the pretty girl facing me. She was curiously examining the mottled red rope marks decorating her arms and wrists like tribal tattoos. She hadn’t taken her raincoat off either, leaving it hood and all, as securely done up as ever. I could not tear my eyes away from her. She was truly beautiful.

Melissa nodded before replying. “Yeah… Look … uh, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry for … trying to … uh, steal your raincoat earlier. I know I shouldn’t have done it – it… I know it was the wrong thing to do.”

“Thanks,” I replied, touched by the obvious sincerity of her apology. She was already changing out of her flowing, translucent orange raincoat, her hands slipping downwards, caressing the soft plastic one last time before reluctantly undoing the hood ties and each button in turn.

Seemingly seconds later, she’d metamorphosed into the harder, much more street-wise girl who’d tried to rip me off earlier. “Her” raincoat hung over a chair and if not for the rope festooning the floor around her feet, I would not have known that this had ever happened.

“Well… I’d better go now,” she said awkwardly, her eyes roaming around the Aladdin’s cave of rainwear that she’d spent the day getting to know.. Strange, that. I could have sworn that she was anything but eager to go. I knew that it was my imagination though. Girls don’t go in much for raincoats – or ropes – as a rule.

“Yeah…” I nodded reluctant assent before smiling to lighten the mood. Somehow, her green eyes had met mine. They were unfathomable; they were impossible to read but I sensed an innate melancholy. Her inscrutable gaze held mine for long moments before the spell was spoken when the phone outside rang before cutting off as the answering machine kicked in. “Please take care and be… good.”

Melissa grinned lopsidedly before stepping outside. “Yeah… Sorry again – and thanks for tying me up and everything…”

“You’re wel-” I never had the chance to finish for Melissa was gone, vanished as if she’d never been, in the wind and rain bringing an early darkness to the shivering city, and I sighed deeply. I would never see her again.

Epilogue

Another day, another week. It’d been unusually busy because the weather had not been good (so much for this global warming that everyone was talking about) so everybody – so it seemed – was beating a path to our door, helped along by a couple of favourable reviews that we’d received in a couple of popular camping and travel magazines.

Business was good. Life was good – well, almost. I could not shake off the strange, hollow feeling in my heart. That girl had affected me more than I thought. I could not stop thinking about her. It was almost two weeks since that incident and she had not returned for a repeat performance. Of course she wouldn’t. Yeah… just ducky, huh?

It was then that Melissa sidled inside “Just Ducky”, before edging around the racks as if she hadn’t seen me.

My heart leapt. Surely… She could not possibly be that stupid – or … ?

Melissa conspicuously avoided looking in my direction. Suspicious and increasingly apprehensive, I cautiously approached the girl from behind. She’d selected a beautiful – and expensive – see-through glass clear PVC raincoat complete with matching sou’ wester. Melissa let me come within five feet or so before making her move.

This time, I was ready for Melissa. She’d barely covered ten feet before I was on her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I growled.

“Oh my God!” she squealed. “You caught me again!”

“Yes, I did,” I coldly replied. “This time you-”

“in big trouble, right?” she wailed, clutching my hands as if her life depended upon clinging to me.

“Yes, you are,” I replied. “Very big trouble.”

“Ooh.” Melissa theatrically flung her hands upwards to her mouth. “Does that mean… you’re going to tie me up again?”

“You’re damn tooting,” I wonderingly breathed as realisation dawned upon my stunned brain. She’d actually wanted me to catch her! “Yes, I’m going to tie you up – but good.”

“Please don’t tie me uppp…” she moaned. “I really hate being tied up.”

“Too bad,” I replied as I marched my miscreant inside the store room. “I’m going to tie you up whether you like it or not.”

Melissa slept in my bed – bound hand and foot in an exquisitely tight hogtie.

She moved in with me the next day. We’ve been inseparable since (it’s not like Melissa’s got any choice for I keep her more or less permanently restrained one way or another: I can’t be too careful, right?)

She reckons that crime really pays.

It’s up to me to prove that it doesn’t.

[Elegy53]

It's great to see your stories reappearing, I managed to copy a few off the Wayback Machine' but couldn't find all of them and partticularly part 2 updates which may not have ever appeared. Is there anyway of locating more? I had given up hope.

[HeatherlovesPVC]

Loved the story, only problem is I would prefer if it was the other way round with Melissa catching me shoplifting and tying me up in a lovely Mac

[macncape]

Great story Mason. I'd let you tie me up and gag me anytime you liked as long as I was wearing a lovely plastic mac!

[hotwilly]

Great well written story, thank you

[Jennifer987]

I loved your story Mason, well written and very good grammar (not seen a lot lately).
Jennifer

[Highshine5]

A great story. Written with taste and style. A shame it has to compete for space with appalling trash like 'the wedding', which is just crude and tasteless.

[mason]

A great story. Written with taste and style. A shame it has to compete for space with appalling trash like 'the wedding', which is just crude and tasteless.

Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. I really enjoy writing these stories.

BTW, I just read 'The Wedding'. The kindest thing I can say about it is that it's ... a bit out there. Reading it also hurt my eyes as well.

[Raincoated]

Great bit of fiction. Look forward to reading more.
I am in total agreement regarding 'the wedding'. The title does not give any indication of what type of literature thats about to be dumped on you. These sort of stories really should carry a XXX-rating and put into their own category. Judging by the amount of recent critism aimed towards this sort of fiction, I would imagine a very small proportion of rainwear readers are actually interested in rather crude and poorly written porn. Said my bit!

[mason]

Great bit of fiction. Look forward to reading more.
I am in total agreement regarding 'the wedding'. The title does not give any indication of what type of literature that's about to be dumped on you. These sort of stories really should carry a XXX-rating and put into their own category. Judging by the amount of recent criticism aimed towards this sort of fiction, I would imagine a very small proportion of rainwear readers are actually interested in rather crude and poorly written porn. Said my bit!

Thanks! I love writing rainwear fiction. They say, "write what you know" and it comes out in your work.

BTW, I just fixed the warning problem as I'm able to edit everything, owing to my Admin status. I've just added a short description including 'XXX sex', so future readers are more informed about it.