Reprise:

A Christmas Tale of Restrained Love

By

 

Brian Sands

 

 

Mannix, “Once Upon a Saturday”

 

 

I

“We’d better start if this play is going to get off the script and onto the stage by Christmas,” she says. “I hope you brought your copy of the script.”

“Sure did,” he replies, holding it aloft. “Been studying it too.”

“Good. Let’s begin.”

They begin. She listens, recites her part when it is due, and prompts him occasionally when he holds the pages closed. There is very little to ad lib.

“You have it almost word perfect,” she says. “But now we come to the difficult part. So far all you’ve been doing is to move about the stage as per directions. Stage centre right, upper left, and so on. Now comes the action.”

“I’m not sure I can do this,” he stammers.

“What? You mean grabbing hold of me? It says: Sir Despard seizes Miss Doucement about the waist and places a hand over her mouth. She struggles then becomes still.  I’m not made of glass you know. I shan’t break! … I guess you’re just a sensitive, caring guy. The part’s made for you, but not this scene perhaps. Remember, you start out as a tough guy but in the end your love grows for me and you defy your bosses who ordered you to do the job … Oh well,” she shrugs, “Let’s just take it from the point where I’m in the chair.”

She sits and looks up at him expectantly. He leans forward and begins winding a long piece of soft cotton rope around her body, including the chair. When he steps back to look at his handiwork, she smiles and raises her hands.

“Guess what’s wrong here? … You need to tie my hands!’

“Do I have to? After all, the audience won’t know. Can’t you just keep your arms behind your back?”

“It’s not the same thing … not the real thing either. I have to feel as though I’m captured. It will help me get into my part … Look, I think you need a good practical lesson in kidnapping. So get more of that rope and tie me up properly. I’ll direct you step by step.”

It will be a long process, she thinks, but he has to learn to drop a lot of inhibitions temporarily if he’s to be any good on the stage.

She looks up at him and nods towards the table where more rope lies. “Take that thinner piece of cord … That’s it … Now,” she stretches her arms behind her around the chair. “Start with my wrists. See how they’re crossed? My arms can reach around the back of this chair quite comfortably. Perhaps we should requisition it as a prop … Anyhow, tie my wrists together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t!”

“Okay … Then … What should I do?”

“Heavens! Wind the cord around my wrists a couple of times … That’s right. Now make a single knot … I can’t really see what you’re doing … Pull it tight … Thaaat’s better … But not so tight that it pinches the skin. Mmm, that feels snug … Double it now, in an overhand knot … You know what that is don’t you? Though a reef knot will do just as well, so long as it can’t slip.”

“Is that all there is to it?”

“Hmm, maybe. I can still move my hands about in it a little, and it feels as if there are a couple of loose ends.”

“There are.”

“Good. Then start winding them around my wrists as well, but this time take them over in the opposite direction.”

“Um, vertical you mean instead of horizontal like the first?”

“Yep. That’s the idea. Take it around a couple more times and make a knot like before. Tighten it firmly … ouch, yes!”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, just a mite surprised that you did it. You’re growing a little more confident. Have you doubled it yet? It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Okayy … How’s that?”

“Much better. You’re getting the hang of it.”

“But, hey, I don’t have to tie your hands like this on the night do I?”

“No. I’m just curious to see how securely you can make it. On the night, a couple of turns of a much shorter cord will do, to fit in with the time frame, but they’ll have to be as tight as this so that it feels right.”

“Well, it is real isn’t it?”

“You’re right there. It’s harder to twist my hands about, and I can’t find where the knot is. You’re doing a good job. Time to start on my ankles. Take a piece of cord like the one on my wrists and wind it around my ankles. Do a neat job.”

“This neat enough?”

“Yes ...?” She looks down. “That’s fine, make a double knot and then pass those loose ends in opposite directions between my ankles.”

“I don’t like touching your legs.”

“What a gentleman! Look, you have to touch my legs in order to thread the cord through. I don’t mind. And if you’re anything like the kids on the block, you’ll enjoy the feel of my stockings … Sort of silky aren’t they?”

“Y- yes.”

“I do believe you’re blushing. But I shouldn’t tease you. You have me bound hand and foot and at your mercy! I’ll be a good captive. I won’t say anything to make you angry.”

“Can we get on with the script reading?”

“Sure, but make all that rope tighter around my body first. It looks really sloppy the way you’ve left it.”

“What was that you said about being nice to me because you’re all tied up?”

“Aha, you’re right of course … Do a couple of turns around my waist and make a knot, pull it tight, and double it.”

“It’s tricky because there’s so much rope left. I have to pull it through and through.”

“That’s because once you’ve tied the knot for my waist you have to take the rope up higher around my chest.”

“Urhm … above or below?”

“Oh you’re a cute man! Above at first so that it won’t slip down easily. There’s more rope you can use, to go under my breasts … Before you ask, you’re welcome to touch me. Heavens, we’ve kissed enough in the last couple of weeks.”

“This okay then?”

“Mm hm. Make it a little tighter … That’s better. Now I’ll find it very hard to move.”

“Urhm, the script …”

“Yes, your lines, but haven’t you forgotten something?”

“Um …?”

“You have to gag me so I can’t call for help.”

“I- I don’t know what to use.”

“That’s easy! Take this silk scarf from my neck.”

“It’s a nice scarf. The orange matches the burgundy of your dress.”

“You have some dress sense? Maybe we can use you in wardrobe as well. Yes, it’s a pretty scarf. A French acquaintance – a woman in case you’re wondering – called it chic. Tie it in my mouth. It won’t really keep me quiet but it will look nice … Uddd mggs talgig hdrr … Ttt udd tddr.”

“What’s that? Hang on … I’ll take it off your mouth.”

“I said, tie it tighter! It really works better than I expected … Nggg!”

“That tight enough?”

“Mm hmmm.”

“Okayy, shall I start?”

“Mm hm.”

“Right, uhhh: Gotcha to rights now, Lady, neatly tied up like a Christmas parcel for the bosses.”

“Mmmmmph! Mmmph!”

“Yeah, in this space no one can hear you scream.”

“Mmmmmph!”

“Those lines always get me! Who wrote this?”

“Mmm hmmm!”

“Oh, you wrote it … Yeah,” he says hastily, “They’re good, they’re very good!”

“Lrrr!”

Her response sounds uncomfortably like “liar,” and he feels an impulse to tighten her gag even more. Instead, he continues with his lines.

“Let’s see … You will not escape. You are my prisoner. Try to scream, if you can, nya ha haaa. No one will hear you … Those lines are easy to remember.

“Mmmph umph!”

“Now I will leave you. There are preparations I have to make. They include spiriting you away from this mansion. Don’t go away.”

“Mmmmmmph!”

“Well, that’s the end of the scene.”

“Mm hm.”

He bends down and begins to untie the knot at the back of her ear. “The silk’s very tight, like a knot in a stocking. It’s hard to pick open.”

“Nnnn, dnnn gddd ddd!”

“There, got it! What were you trying to say?”

“I was trying to say don’t cut it! It’s one of my favourite scarves and I’ll kill you if you damage it. But you managed to undo the knot without thinking about that option. Jolly good for you that you did! … Next time, tie the knot in a bow so that you can pull it apart without any trouble.”

“When will be the next time?”

“Soon off course. We need to reprise this scene so that we’re confident about it. It’s a one-act play in four scenes and we have to get each scene perfect so that it joins seamlessly with the next scene … You’d better untie me now or I’ll be late for my book club.”

“Okay, but there’s one more thing I have to ask …”

He takes her gently by the back of her head with one hand, places the fingers of his other hand against her cheek, bends down and kisses her full on the lips.

“Ummph!”

Her eyes roll upwards in surprise. She resists against her bonds for a moment, then relaxes and begins to respond. They kiss for a lot longer that he had hoped.

“Wh- What was your question?” she asks when at last she can speak. 

“Um, I wanted to know whether you liked that.”

“I’ll let you know next time, but I’d really like to be untied now.”

“Sure thing …” He begins to undo the ropes around her body. “You’re not angry with me?”

“No, not angry at all. In fact, it was kind of nice … My hands too, please … I’m glad you’re trustworthy.”

II

“What was that you said last night about the kids in the block?”

“I’ll tell you later. But, firstly, let’s get on with this scene. We’ll start with my capture as I enter the room, and finish with the nya ha haa bit … Do you think you can grab me realistically?”

“Yeah … I think so.”

“Okayy … you don’t seem too sure about it, so let’s run through it in slow motion before we speed it up for an audience. I enter the room Down Right Stage and you’re standing to the side of the door on my left. That means we’re close to the audience in the front rows, so those people will see the details of my capture. So you’ve got to do it well. You come in, put your left arm around my waist from behind and pin my arms to my side. With your right hand you cover my mouth. Let’s do it!”

She disappears into her bedroom, leaving him standing in the all-purpose living room of her small apartment. There is a pause while the potential kidnapper places himself to one side of the entrance, the equivalent to Down Stage Right.

“I’m ready,” he calls.

“Good. One … two … three …”

She enters. There is a wild grab. One arm is pinned, the other arm missed. His hand covers not only her mouth but her nose as well.

“Ummmph! Mmmmmfffflll!”

She raises her free arm and unintentionally jabs him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. It is not a heavy blow but it has the effect of making him drop both arms from her. He falls back onto the sofa, hugging himself protectively around the body.

“Arrrgh!”

“Well, that didn’t quite come off,” she says. “Are you all right?”

“Uhhhhh! Yeah, I guess so.”

“Want to try it again? I did tell you slow motion. You went at it too fast, and I responded without thinking.”

“Nervous I guess.”

“Sorry. It’s those self defence lessons I’ve been taking.”

“I’ll try it again.”

He moves to his original position near the doorway. She returns to her bedroom.

“Right,” she calls, “One … two … three!”

She enters. This time he works much more slowly. Her arms are pinned to her sides as intended. His hand cups her mouth and lips just below her nose. He holds her firmly. She tries to struggle.

“Mmmmph!”

Her eyes open wide when she realises that she is being held very tightly indeed and that she can’t move her arms at all.

“Mmmmph!”

The hand over her mouth really does stop her attempted cry. She realises that if it were a real situation, such as coming upon a burglar, she would not have much chance of fighting free. Her breathing is heavy. So is his. She can feel that he is growing excited, that he is in fact growing and probably getting very embarrassed about it.

She stops struggling. She stands quietly. His hand falls from her mouth.

“That, uhh, okay?” he asks.

She can see in the mirror on the other side of the room that his face is flushed.

“I’m fine … You did that very well.”

She turns and kisses him firmly on the mouth. Her hand cups over the front of his jeans and presses delicately. He shivers.

“Let’s do it again,” she suggests. “This time make it faster and continue into the next part of the scene by putting the gag on me and tying my hands.”

“To the nya ha ha bit?”

“Yep. Let’s see how good you are at kidnapping me. It’s an opportunity to have your revenge for that poke in the ribs.”

She exits once again into the bedroom. He stands out of sight. He takes a neatly folded white handkerchief from his pocket, shakes it out and folds it over loosely into a wad. She re-enters.

This time there is no mistake. He seizes her around the waist, pinning her arms immobile, and clamps the handkerchief over her mouth. She writhes back with a muffled gasp, then becomes still. He takes the opportunity to stuff the handkerchief into her mouth. She does not resist, nor does she attempt to eject the gag with her tongue when he takes his hand from her face and gathers her arms behind her.

Quickly her wrists are bound in the criss-cross and cinching ties in the way she taught him. She is wearing a neck scarf, a different one from the day before. He unties the loose knot with one hand. In a short time he has bound the scarf between her teeth and pulled it tight before tying the final knot in a half bow that can be released quickly if required. It holds her jaws open and makes it harder for her to push the gag past – not impossible but a lot more difficult. He walks her to the chair and gently propels her down into it.

As he takes up a roll of soft cord, she looks up at him. He’s doing it very differently today, is what she is thinking. He’s a great deal more confident, I’m glad to say, and he’s done a very good job of tying my hands. I hope he doesn’t get too carried away on the night or the whole timing of the other parts of the scene will be thrown out of gear! Hmm, and he’s tying me really tightly into this chair. Maybe a poke in the ribs should be applied to all fumbling male actors, if they have an opportunity to take their revenge in this way! She smiles behind the gag but he can’t see it. Another thought crosses her mind. Is she really allowing him to do it, or has she underestimated him? If she wanted to stop the scene, there and then, could she do it? That would be highly problematic considering that she is securely tied and no longer able to speak! A frisson of excitement courses through her.

He is already busy with his lines:

Gotcha to rights now, Lady, neatly tied up like a Christmas parcel for the bosses.”

Mmmmmph! Mmmph!

In this space no one can hear you scream.

Mmmmmph!

You will not escape. You are my prisoner. Try to scream, if you can, nya ha haaa. No one will hear you.

Mmmph umph!

Now I will leave you. There are preparations I have to make. They include spiriting you away from this mansion. Don’t go away.

Mmmmmmph!

“How’s that?” he asks, standing back and observing her reactions with a worried frown, nervously turning the script over in his hands.

“Ummmph!” She shakes her head in the universal sign of a damsel who wishes her gag to be removed.

“Oh, um … yeah.”

He bends forward and unties her gag. She pushes the wadded handkerchief out with her tongue. The wad falls into her lap. The scarf falls drops around her neck.

“Oh boy,” she exclaims, “That was a lot better!”

“You mean it?”

“Sure I mean it. Once or twice it felt very real. And I must say,” she adds, looking awkwardly over her shoulder in an unsuccessful attempt to see her bound hands, “you’ve done a really neat job of tying me up. I can’t move my hands at all … I’m completely at your mercy.”

She looks up at him coquettishly. He flushes.

“Wearing loose trouser might help,” she adds sweetly.

“Uhh um …”

“Come down here please,” she asks, tilting her head back and offering her white throat, red lips slightly parted over snowy teeth. “I want to tell you something.”

He bends and comes to her, their mouths meeting in a long kiss. His hand slides between the folds of her blouse, separating the buttons as it comes. He finds her breasts, nipples hard and erect, a thin slick of sweat in her cleavage. Her breath comes in short gasps as her body strains against the ropes that bind her to the chair.

“Urhm,” at a loss for words for a moment, he falls back upon recent memory, “Neatly tied like a Christmas parcel. You are my prisoner. You cannot escape.”

“Hmmm, so … if I ask to be untied right now, there’s very little chance it will happen?”

“Nope,” his heart in his throat.

“I’ll scream!” she opens her mouth wide.

Quickly, without thought, he snatches up the balled handkerchief from her lap and pushes it into her mouth again. She allows her scream to trail into a faint squeak. He ties the gag in place with her scarf, this time making a small knot in the centre that works a little more efficiently at keeping the packing in place.

“Nya ha haaa,” he concludes.

He is treated to a very distracting vision of a beautiful woman, helplessly bound, laughing through her gag, her blouse unbuttoned and in disarray, the black lace of a transparent bra contrasted against the lapels of the white blouse.

III

“Tell me what you meant about the kids on the block.”

“There’s not much to tell really.”

She is sitting with her arms bound as usual behind the back of the chair. Her ankles are tied and ropes fit snugly about her waist and frame her breasts above and below. Her left leg and thigh are revealed through the long slit in her blue satin skirt, reaching as far as a pair of black and very insubstantial string panties that to the eye are a mere flicker of semi-opaque satin. All contours of her leg and thigh are sharpened and made liquid by the sheer stocking in which they are sheathed. Her other leg is like that too, he supposes, but he cannot see it. Her blouse is unfastened to the fourth button and the round curves of her neat breasts with their pointed nipples are clearly visible through the transparent bra. Her nipples are erect and inviting, seemingly about to force their way through the translucent material. A band of silk falls loose around her neck. The gag, which is a thick folded linen handkerchief, now lies in her lap.

Her hair is dishevelled, her cheeks flushed and glowing. She has just completed the damsel’s accompaniments to the ravings of the villain and is out of breath and excited after the rehearsal that has lasted more than an hour. She is the loveliest sight on the planet and he aches to take her in his arms, to take her to bed, to hold and to ravish her for a very long time.

Instead he sits in the other chair and repeats his question, all the time watching his pretty captive with unalloyed pleasure.

“I used to do baby sitting for some of the families,” she continues. “One or two of the boys – and one girl – conned me into playing detective games. That meant I was tied up a lot. They were very good at it …”

“Better than me?” he interrupts morosely. He is a lot older but he cannot hide a little jealousy. He corrects himself. It is envy. He wishes he had known her then.

“No, you excel in that area,” she replies thoughtfully. “I had to push you into it, but you’ve become a very successful kidnapper ... and actor as well, although that will be tested on the night”

“Go on with your story.”

“I had to teach them how to improve on their technique, except for the girl, Rose. I could never get out of her ropes. Her two brothers, on the other hand, were hopeless, big lumpy boys. One couldn’t take his eyes off my breasts, which were already developing nicely … The games lasted about a year, then I went on to university and sort of forgot about them. But now this alumnus drama club …”

“Has given us an opportunity to experiment.”

“Exactly. I was surprised when they accepted my little play as part of their Christmas Revue …”

“There’s nothing like a good old-fashioned melodrama!”

“I was even more surprised that this scene came out the way it did. I guess I’ve always enjoyed the sight of a movie heroine tied up, because I know what it’s like when it’s done as a fantasy, like in kids’ games or in drama. It’s well suited to melodrama.”

“Aha, so now do you expect me to untie you?”

“Hmm, I think you might require a little persuading. You’re obviously enjoying this!”

“After that invitation, how can I refuse to keep you kidnapped … indefinitely?”

“I’ll scream!”

He picks up the gag from her lap and begins to refold it.

“I’ll look daggers at you … mmmph!”

He pushes the handkerchief between her teeth, unties the scarf from her neck and reties it between her jaws. She looks up at him, playing a fair imitation of wrath. He takes another silk scarf and binds it across her eyes.

“Scream and look daggers all you like now, nya ha haaaa!” he states in a parody of the part he played earlier.

“Mmmph!! Mmmmmmmmph!!” she replies through the gag in a parody of her own condition.

“Perhaps you’re wondering what a man might do with a pretty woman after he’s made her bound and helpless?”

“Mph?” suddenly sober.

“Well then …”

IV

He presses the doorbell and waits expectantly. There is no answer to the summons. No sound comes from within the apartment. He presses the doorbell once more with the same lack of result. He knows that the buzzer was working fine the day before and wonders whether she’s slipped out to buy something at the convenience store in the block. It’s strange that they did not meet, as he was there only a few minutes ago.

By his feet, half concealed under the welcome mat, he spies the corner of an envelope. When he opens it, he finds that it contains a key and a note.

Come on in, Darling.

Early Christmas present inside!

He opens the door and steps carefully across the threshold into her living room. The note has to be meant for him, unless she has another friend she calls “darling.” He listens. There is no sound aside from the soft hum from the refrigerator in the kitchen and from the air conditioner.

Now becoming more than a little worried, he calls her name. He thinks he hears an answering sound coming faintly from the bedroom. With all senses alert, he steps to the door, turns the handle, and throws it open.

At first he can’t see anything because the curtains are drawn over the window and the room is unlit. He rectifies the latter, finding and throwing the light switch by the door. The room is immediately bathed in the soft glow of a lamp in the ceiling. She is lying curled on her side upon the bed and appears to be very securely bound.

From where he is standing, he sees that her lags are tied and cinched together at almost every available point: her ankles, calves, immediately below the knees, immediately above her knees, around her lower thighs and, finally, about her upper thighs. The rope appears to be hemp, thicker and coarser than the soft cotton rope they use for reprising the capture scene. Its rough texture makes it almost impossible for the heroine to slip it loose. Her arms appear to be bound behind her back, and more hemp rope encircles her body just as thoroughly as her legs: around the waist, immediately below her breasts, across the breasts themselves, squashing them, above them, and around her upper chest and shoulders. Her head is raised towards him but very little can be seen of her face. The lower part of her face is sealed beneath several layers of medical sticking plaster that appear to wrap around her head. She can only make faint grunting sounds through it, her lips evidently pursed tightly beneath the tape.  A wide black silk scarf covers her eyes.

He does not rush immediately to her aid. Could she tie herself up like that without someone’s assistance? This may not be a sweet erotic Christmas present after all but a burglary committed with an ironic sense of humour. His eyes sweep the area of the small room. Aside from the closet, there is no place for anyone to hide in such as way that they could take him by surprise.

“Is anyone else here?” he asks.

“Mm mm,” she replies, lifting her head and shaking it from side to side: no.

“Okayy.” He closes the door behind him. “Don’t tell me you tied yourself like that on your own?”

“Mm mm.” Again she shakes her head.

“So where are they … Are they here?”

Once more she shakes her head: “Mm mm.”

“Let me get this straight. You asked a friend to tie you up so that you could give me a surprise. Is that it?”

“Mm hm,” she nods affirmatively.

“And they’re not here now?”

“Mm hm,” she shakes her head again.

“Hmm, we could have a good conversation this way, with you nodding or shaking your head.”

“Mmmm, mmmph!” She raises her head and shakes it desperately. Her face is dark and strained from the pressure of the tape gag and it is obvious that she needs to be relieved of it as soon as possible.

He ceases his teasing and goes to her. On a closer inspection, he sees that the ropes around her body are also cinched tightly between arms and body, and that her wrists are tied together one upon the other with thin cotton cord that is also cinched. She cannot move her arms at all.

As quickly as he dares, he severs the wrist and arm ties then moves to free the ones around her legs. He searches in a medical cabinet in the bathroom and is thankful that she kept it well stocked. It was where the tape must have come from, but there is also a pair of safety scissors with one side flat. He eases the flat side beneath the tape along the line of her jaw and very precisely cuts the tape. There is a silk scarf under it that seems to pass between her jaws, but he manages to cut around it without causing damage. He peels the tape slowly, wincing sympathetically when she mews plaintively as it pulls the fine hairs at the back of her neck. A knotted silk scarf between her teeth is removed next, followed by another scarf from deep inside that is bunched up. As she coughs and groans by turns, he unties the blindfold.

Her eyes are wide with astonishment when her face is revealed from under the blindfold. She raises her hands and puts them around his neck, and he gathers her into his arms and lies down on the bed with her.

“Oh boy,” she whispers, “I really did it that time!”

“What happened?”

“I wanted to surprise you with myself as a Christmas gift …”

“You sure did!”

“Guess who I ran into on my way home? Rose. You know, the neighbour kid in the block I was telling you about. She’s just passing through, involved in some sort of import-export business … Anyway, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. I reminded her that we played detective games as kids, and asked whether she’d be willing to tie me up really well to surprise you. You saw the result. She really trussed me up. I couldn’t move. It was her idea to tape me up and not just to use the scarf gags.” 

“How long have you been tied up?”

“About an hour before you came … too long. But it’s all right now you’re here … Umm, if you want to do something, I can’t resist. It would be nice to tie me up again.”

He reaches for one of her scarves, considering the headboard of the bed as he does so.

“Thank you Melanie,”

It is Donald Caisson’s début into the world of drama and intrigue.                          

 

©        Brian Sands 2004

 

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