Chapter 5
Fred Colby wasn't aware that the junk man had designs on the brass bed himself. He passed the store the morning after the bed had been acquired. He stopped when he saw the bed.
His wife, his lovely wife, had often told him that there was nothing more sensual than the idea of a brass bed. It seemed like the height of elegance to her. And this brass four-poster was so obviously a work of fine craftsmanship, so obviously a work of excellence, that Fred knew immediately that he had to have it. But, he walked past the store.
Perhaps the bed wouldn't be there the next time he passed. He didn't know about that. But, this had only been one glance he had gotten of the article of furniture. It hadn't grown on him yet. But, that night, on his way home from work, he passed it again and stopped again.
He didn't mention anything to his wife, but he knew that their anniversary was that month. It would be quite a lovely gift for their anniversary. The next morning he rushed to the block where the store was. Of course it hadn't been sold since the night before. The store had only just opened. He went into the store. There was no bickering. He bought it.
The junk man had promised himself that if the brass bed had stayed in his store for more than a week he would take it home for himself. He felt a little disappointed that it was going to leave. It was a beautiful thing. But, shrugging his shoulders in a philosophical manner, he wondered if perhaps it would have been wrong for him and for his wife.
He had the bed delivered three weeks later, on the day before their anniversary. It was to be their special celebration and it was a very beautiful night that they shared.
When they were both naked and she was spread out on her back with her husband's trim body on top of hers, he pulled her hands up over her head and held them there. She squirmed and struggled in his hold, a little surprised as her wrists pressed against the cold brass.
She pulled her hands away from the headboard and looked into his eyes as if asking a question. It was an embarrassing question that he didn't wish to answer. He kissed her.
But then they squirmed around a little bit more. She spread her legs and he reached around and grabbed her ass. Lifting the cheeks of her ass up off the bed a little, he slapped her right there.
Pulling away from his lips, her mouth opened and she looked at him, wide-eyed.
Once again she was asking him a question with her eyes. He kissed her again.
Then he positioned his cock against her cunt lips. This had started as a beautifully pleasant experience, and he didn't understand why he felt so tense right then. There were urges in him, urges that he knew had existed before that but that he had never acted on, which he felt were bubbling to the surface, which he felt were overflowing in his body.
He couldn't help himself as he pushed deep into her body and then pinned her. There was nothing too unusual about the way he was lying on top of her on the bed, but in his mind he knew that he was pinning her down, he was holding her down on the bed, holding her in place.
Almost as soon as he had his dick inside her pussy and had started to fuck her, he smiled and felt his balls pull against his body and then he felt the pulsating sensation at the base of his cock as the gism sped up the length of the thick prong. He shot deep in her cunt.
She felt herself being filled with the gism, just as she had felt herself being pinned down on the bed. She had read her husband's mind. She knew that she had been raped by him, that, in his mind, he had been holding her and using her viciously.
But, neither of them said anything. It was something that happened in their minds.
Sometimes she would raise her arms up over her head as if she were stretching and her husband would grasp her hands tenderly and massage her wrists, holding them right along the vertical bars of the brass headboard. He knew what she was doing and she also knew what he was doing. They were both getting excited over the same thing.
Neither of them had the courage to call it bondage, neither of them had the guts to actually use any bonds, but they were both getting off on the pleasure that ran through their bodies in response to this.
Was it the bed that had influenced them? They both laughed when they spoke of the bed and said that it made them feel sexy. But, they both knew that it wasn't a joke. It was something they meant very deeply, something they really shared with each other.
Fred didn't go away during the war because he was older. He was in his forties and he had a rather important position with the government. The apartment that he and Valerie shared was quite spacious and elegant. She was one of the leading ladies in the society world.
And she always dressed the part and played the part. Once the war started she had to keep her clothes of a simpler cut because it was considered ostentatious to wear flashy things. But, there was no way that Valerie could keep from announcing that she had a lot of money.
Actually, Fred had been the young chairman of the board of a major American corporation. He now worked on the government board that administered all the rules of the same industry he had once spearheaded. It was part of the government effort to make America function again.
But, the war was doing that all on its own. The economy was back on its feet in no time.
Fred was torn between his old company and his government post. He felt that he could make a killing in private enterprise and he was really hoping that he could play both ends against the middle.
He hoped that he could secretly get back control of his company and still remain on the regulatory commission. That way he could make all the regulations to his own advantage and really clean up financially. He justified it as the spoils of war.
But, soon after the anniversary gift his marriage with Valerie cooled off quite a bit. He had to travel all the time. First there were meetings in Washington. Since he worked out of New York instead of Washington, this was merely an inconvenience. But, when the meetings grew into weekly events the inconvenience multiplied.
Then he had to go to meetings all across the country and he had to travel to Canada and to South America. He was gone for a month at a time.
When the two of them went to bed again it was usually rather tepid.
Fred had found women, usually hookers, during his travels. Valerie had tried going along with him two or three times, but he was always so busy and so harried, and so on edge no matter where he was, that she found they were merely fighting and that was no good for his work.
So, she stayed home. Her more fashionable friends suggested that she take a lover, even suggesting she find a slightly younger man who was a little hungry. "You know, you can always say that he's your appointment secretary. That's what Millicent calls her young man."
But, Valerie was an old-fashioned woman. She had been true to Fred. It wasn't a very difficult thing to do. She was from a generation that had taught her that she should love her husband. Whether or not she loved him was debatable, but there was admiration there.
He admired the way she looked, the way she handled herself so well in society, and she admired the things he accomplished and the power he wielded in his life.
At least they had a marriage based upon admiration, which was more than many people get.
She had suppressed her own sexual appetite from the time she had been a girl. She had been a virgin when she married and, even though her particular social group did not look down upon extra-marital affairs, she had remained true to her husband.
Mostly it had been fear of sex that had made her that way.
It seems like such a short time ago and some people might consider it a fiction to say that a sophisticated and worldly woman such as Valierie Colby could have been frightened and inexperienced in such basic ways. But, keep in mind that researchers tell us that even the first lady of the United States during that decade, a very respected and intelligent woman, did not know the first thing about birth control and merely had to cease having sex with her husband for fear of more children.
Valerie knew that her husband had never gotten her pregnant. The two of them had discussed that matter and were too embarrassed to take it to a doctor, although they did take it to a minister during the early days of their marriage. She feared that if she fooled around with a lover she would get pregnant by him. There was still a strange code of propriety.
And so, although she had sexual fantasies, although she went as far as flirting with handsome men when she went to parties, she never took it beyond that point.
The woman was beautiful. She was nearing forty and was still one of the most admired women in society.
She had kept her shape since the days of the twenties when she had been a slim flapper. Her legs were long and her neck was very long and thin. Her reddish blonde hair was swept back and up and clipped relatively short, which made her pixie-like face even cuter.
Her turned up nose and her green eyes betrayed her Irish origins and made her very endearing and adorable although she was such a mature woman.
And her maturity had done her no damage at all. Her breasts were as rounded and nearly as firm as they had been when she was twenty-five. Her waistline was still as narrow, and while it was true that her hips were an extra two inches wider than they had been when she was in her late twenties, that fuller roundness was very sexual to many men.
She had the sort of ass now that the Italian men really liked to pinch.
And, even when she wore a conservative beige suit or a loose-fitting dark blue dress, her pale complexion and her bright reddish blonde hair seemed to complement anything.
The woman carried herself with so much grace and elegance that she made grace a sexual thing.
Each night, left alone by her husband who was traveling in one place or in another, she would dream sexual dreams. Each morning she would deny the truth of those dreams to herself.
After all, she would tell herself, she was a proper woman. She was not some slut who would actually become erotically stimulated over the thought of being tied up to the brass four-poster' bed and having cocks slamming into her all the time.
But, night after night, she continued to dream about the same thing.
The woman went to a psychiatrist, but after six months with the man she had never gotten up the courage to tell him that she dreamt about being sexually bound to her bed.
It all seemed too frightening for her to reveal it to that doctor. She couldn't say it.
And so, it burned up inside of her and made her very tense indeed. She thought about getting rid of the brass bed. She never remembered having dreams like that when she hadn't been sleeping in the big brass four-poster. But, how could she sell it? It had been a gift from her husband to her. She couldn't think of a way to explain it to him.
The woman didn't realize that she would soon find a way to explain it. She would soon have a new and frightening excuse to tell him.
Meanwhile, the war was drawing to a close. It looked as if her husband's imagine wheelings and dealings would soon grind to a slow halt and he would no longer be traveling everywhere.
But, just then, the Truman Committee in the Senate brought charges against Fred Colby. They had been investigating his illegal practices and he would have to go to trial. The trial was held in Washington and, for that event, Valerie had to travel down there with her husband.
She felt more love for him than ever before. Now that he needed her, now that he was no longer the all-powerful, omnipotent man, she really cared for him. She cried at portions of the trial. Newspaper reporters wrote sympathetically of the beleagered wife who was so devoted to the culprit.
The trial turned out to be a long and drawn out legal proceeding which was covered in gory detail by the press. Now that there was no more war to fill their pages and the returning soldiers were in need of jobs, people who had taken advantage of the war were considered to be big news, big villains of the day. Fred Colby was a popular one even as his team of expensive lawyers kept bogging down the proceedings against him.
Valerie kept on traveling back and forth between Washington and New York. One night when she was just too frustrated with the proceedings and knew that the following day would be another pointless day, she made a last minute change of plans and decided to take the train up to New York. She only called one close friend to say she was coming.
"I think I deserve it. I'll wear a veil over my face if you'll pick up theatre tickets for tomorrow."
That night that she returned to New York unexpectedly would turn out to be one she would remember for the rest of her life, one that would permanently burn the image of that brass four-poster bed into her brain and never let her forget it.
It was already late in the evening when she got back to her elegant apartment. She went directly to her bedroom and peeled off her clothes, dropping them on the floor as she went.
There was only one little light burning next to the bed. Actually, the light had been burning all during the time that she had been out of town. She left it on to make burglars think that there was someone home. Burglars, of course, knew that was a New York trick.
She pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and took out the first nightgown that was there. She didn't even pay attention to it. It was white and very plain.
Once she was completely naked, she pulled the nightgown over her head and climbed into bed and turned off the light. She was asleep within ten minutes of entering the apartment.
It was a dreamless sleep. She was glad to be back in her own apartment. She had tried, especially, to turn off her mind to everything that had happened during the previous weeks.
Her husband seemed to have aged terribly because of the pressures of the trial.
It wasn't that she wasn't concerned about his position in the trial. It was that she was too concerned. She knew that, for her own well-being, she needed to get her mind off it for a day.
She wouldn't be any help to her husband if she looked more haggard and upset than he did.
First, his lawyers had convinced the court that he didn't need to be kept in prison because, after all, he was a respected citizen and a man with resources. He wasn't about to run away from the trial. But then the lawyers and the court agreed that the man should be in protective custody. There was a lot of ugliness because of what he had done.
This was the era right after the war. People's wounds were still quite fresh. The pains that people had experienced were still very much alive. A man who had been a war profiteer was quite a villain then and there were people who would have torn him to pieces.
These were all the things, all the pressures that she tried to put out of her mind.
But something disturbed this otherwise dreamless sleep. It was a strange dream that almost seemed like it wasn't a dream at all. She sensed that there were men in her room.
She was sure she heard the words "What's she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here."
And then she knew that she had, in fact, heard those words. She opened her eyes and looked up and she saw two men who were right over her. She was too frightened to scream. One of them put his hand over her mouth anyway. "Tell us where the jewelry is and you won't get hurt."
Her eyes went wide. She motioned her head toward the dresser. "The middle drawer," she said as the burglar took his hand slightly from her mouth.
One of them went to the middle drawer of the dresser and the other one held onto Valerie, although the woman hadn't put up any struggle to get away. She was too stunned, too frightened, to fight off the two men or to even know what she should do.
"Tell me where you keep some rope. I want some rope."
"Rope? In the. . . kitchen. . . I think. The broom closet next to the pantry."
The burglar had a gun. He pointed it at the woman and said, "Get out of bed and go get it for me." She slowly climbed out of bed and then he followed her, holding the gun against her back as she walked very, very slowly toward the kitchen broom closet.
She handed him the rope and he motioned with the gun for her to go back toward the bedroom. "D-don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me," she whispered softly.
"Get back in there." He snarled. She walked slowly and felt the gun against her ribs.
When she returned to the bedroom she saw that everything from the dresser was on the floor. Everything was scattered. The burglar who had been shuffling through the things held up some cash and said, "Look at this. She had two-hundred bucks hidden there that she didn't tell us about. She was trying to keep it from us, she was."
"N-no. I would have told you. Y-you just asked for the jewelry and I didn't think. . . "
"Get down on the bed!" the man who was holding the gun on her commanded.
She got onto the bed and he pulled the covers off. She felt so vulnerable and so terribly helpless as she looked up at him and tried to clasp her legs and arms together.
He pulled her right arm up at her side and then he cut off some of the heavy rope with a knife that he had in his pocket. He used that rope to tie her wrist to the side of the headboard of the bed. Then he went around the bed and repeated the process with her left wrist.
She was shivering because of the vulnerability that she felt.
Then the man pulled her right leg as far to one side as he could and he used a piece of rope to attach that ankle to the brass footboard of the bed. He did the same with her left leg so that all of her limbs were bound, her body was spread wide open.
She was forming a letter 'X' on the bed, spread-eagle as far as her body could be.
And then she felt the man's hand on the inside of one of her legs. "What are you doing?" she cried out.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" the man snarled under his breath.
The other burglar had his pockets filled with the loot he had taken. He was holding a gun also and he stood near the window as he said, "Come on. Let's get out of here."
"There's something else of Mr. Colby's that I wanna take his wife."
"Please!" she cried out, tensing every muscle in her body as she felt his fingers moving quickly up the inside of her legs. His fingers were right up against her pussy lips.
Only her husband had ever even touched her cunt. She was horrified at the notion of another man touching her there.
Now he pushed her nightgown up her body so that she was naked up to her armpits. The white cloth was bunched up under her arms and she was exposing her beautiful breasts.
The burglar who was leaning over her was running his fingers all over her naked flesh.
"N-no. Please don't do this to me," she begged as tears formed in her eyes.
"Why shouldn't I do it to you, lady? Because you're a fine lady and I'm a ass?"
"I'm. . . M-my husband. . . I mean, I'm a good.. . I'm true to him.. . "
She couldn't put a sentence together. She was stammering with terror.
The burglar who was near the window started to rub the front of his' pants as he softly hummed, "She's really a sexy piece of ass for a woman her age, ain't she."
"You think I'm a ass because I'm robbing you, ain't that it?" the man over her asked.
She shook her head. She wanted to say anything at all to appease him.
"But, that ain't it at all. I'm robbing you but that ain't nearly as bad as all the poor folks that your husband robbed. He's probably gonna get off free because that's what happens if you rob enough! But, bums like me end up in prison." There was a great deal of hatred in the man's tone.
"Please. Just don't hurt me and I won't say anything. Take what you want."
"I'll take what I want," he hissed as he rubbed his fingers against her pussy slit.
He kept on massaging on the supple flesh there as he looked into her eyes. His words were incongruous, not sexual at all. "I was in the Air Force in the war. I might've been killed because of that damn light malfunction that your husband's company let slide. I had a buddy there and he was killed because of it. I know. I was there."
The burglar by the window, although he was rubbing the front of his pants, stopped then and said, "Come on. You're talking crazy now. Let's get out of here. We got the money."
Valerie looked up at that man for help. She actually felt that the man who was holding her jewels and her money was her friend, her savior. She just wanted them out of there.
But the man who was leaning over the woman just snapped at his accomplice and snarled, "Look, if you wanna get out of here you can. I don't give a flying fuck. I've got the wife of the man who killed my buddy in the war. I'm gonna pay her back for it."
"No! Ple-e-e-ease!" she cried out with a pitiful moan.
Laughing, the burglar on the bed with her slapped her tits and said, "That's it. I wanna hear you begging me. I wanna hear you, rich bitch that you are, begging!"
"Come on!" the other burglar encouraged. "You're acting crazy now."
"Shut up!" There was so much hostility, so much fury in the tone of the burglar who was on the bed that Valerie didn't even dare to plead then. She was frightened of him.
In a very soft voice, the burglar by the window whispered, "Don't hurt her, for God's sake."
Then the stud who was leaning over her on the bed started to massage the bulge in the front of his pants as he hissed, "Your bastard husband ever teach you to suck dick?"
Valerie was silent. She had rarely taken her husband's penis in her mouth and she had never done it for any prolonged period of time. It had never been very important to Fred since it was something that he had always been able to get from his hookers.
The man pulled open his pants and then tugged them down along with his underpants. His cock was thick and long and it was already as stiff as a poker. He flipped over into a different position so that his cock was right at her lips and he was leaning over her face.
"Do it!" he growled, pulling at her reddish blonde hair. "Suck my dick."
He pulled so hard on her hair that she thought he was going to pull some of it out of her head. Then he pushed the head of his cock right between her lips. She had her teeth clenched together so that the head couldn't go further, but as he pulled harder on her hair she finally opened her mouth and permitted the cock to enter.
She felt the broad head of the cock pressing hard against her tongue and pushing her tongue down in her mouth and then she felt the flared head rubbing against the roof of her mouth at the same time. It was certainly a very thick cock altogether.
The cock slid forward and the broad head of it slammed against the depths of her throat. She could feel the pressure against her throat muscles and then the cock bounced back after she gagged.
In and out the prick kept on moving and it was massaging her tongue and her throat at the same time. She realized that more and more of the thick prong was pushing into her lips each time the man lowered his hips. His balls were slapping against her chin and his pubic patch was scratching against her nose each time he lowered his hips.
But he was working his powerfully muscled thighs in a quick fucking motion so that he was actually fucking her mouth. He pulled in and out at a steady pace and he maintained that tempo so that it created a moist friction on her tongue, working her saliva into a lather.
She was already able to taste the first traces of the drooling pre-cum that were being massaged into the taste buds of her tongue by the constant movement of the cock.
Valerie couldn't see anything except for the patch of hair that led up to the young burglar's navel. It was then that she realized that this was probably a youth of no more than twenty. He probably only fought in the last days of the war when he was still quite young.
It must have been very difficult for him, she realized even as she sucked his cock.
She could feel her own saliva dribbling down her chin and to her neck. And, of course, that wetness from her mouth was already strongly tinged with the flavor of male cream.
Her throat had relaxed enough so that she could permit the full thrust of the iron-hard cock.
The balls would rest on her chin and the pubic patch would grind against her nose, tickling her nostrils whenever the young man shoved the entire length of his dick in her throat.
And then, even as the man continued to fuck her helpless mouth, she felt fingers against her pussy slit. She couldn't see anything and because she was bound completely to the bed she was really unaware of many bits of information that her senses would have told her.
However, she felt sure that this hand did not belong to the same burglar who was fucking her face.
She hadn't gotten much of a look at either of the men because the lights hadn't been turned on, but she knew that the man who was fucking her face had shaggy, dark hair and had the beginnings of a beard. Perhaps he just had a heavy beard and hadn't shaved recently.
The other one, the one by the window who was now touching her pussy lips, had shorter blond hair and he looked a little bit older than the first burglar.
Now, Valerie realized, she was going to be expected to put out for both of them at the same time.
She could hardly believe the filthy degradation she felt. She felt so humiliated. Since she was such a fine and respected lady, a leader of society, she knew that her body was turning bright crimson at just the thought of any of the other proper people in society knowing that she had had two holes violated at the same time by low-life scoundrels.
And the thought of that embarrassment, that shame, that humiliation, was that she was excited. She was sexually aroused more than she ever expected she would be in her life.
She couldn't believe the wetness that oozed from her pussy lips as the blond burglar touched her there. She had an impulse to pull her legs together, to protect herself from the invasion, to maintain her reputation as a good and proper woman, but when she tried to pull her legs together she was reminded of the ropes that held her ankles to the footboard of the fine brass four-poster.
Pulling on her legs like that made all the muscles stand out against her smooth flesh. It made the ropes cut even deeper into the delicate, white flesh of her ankles. And, yes, it even sent another pang of sexual hunger into her hot loins. She longed for the cock.
And, she didn't have to wait long. Sucking on the dark-haired man's cock had become a routine for her. She was aware that when she breathed she only inhaled the aroma of this burglar's genital area. Now, although she had never seen the cock of the blond burglar, she was feeling it as the blond positioned himself over her spread pussy lips.
Because her legs were pulled apart so wide that she felt like a wishbone on Thanksgiving, her cunt lips were even tensed and pulled apart in preparation for the invasion.
The flared cock head pressed firmly against the pussy lips. It pushed into the hot opening. And the woman felt the heat rising in her body, growing even more intense than it had been.
The stiff boner slid all the way into the woman's bound body. Then she really had both of the pricks all the way inside her. One of the cock heads was tickling the back of her throat and the other cock head was smashing against the depths of her pussy.
Then the hard-ons kept on moving at different tempos. The woman felt as if she were on an ever-changing carousel that kept on spinning around and around. There were so many different sensations all going on in her body at the same time that she couldn't keep track of them.
She could feel the moisture between her legs. She could feel the electrical tension that rushed all through her muscles. She could feel the tingling on her nipples because the dark-haired man's hairy calves were rubbing lightly against the tips of her tits.
Everything was happening at the same time and then she felt a pulling deep inside her body, a pulling that was so strong she was sure it would rip the ropes right off the brass bed.
But, that only served to cut the ropes deeply into her tender flesh. She was cumming and this pain because of the ropes seemed to intensify her orgasm.
It turned into spasm after spasm that seemed to be drawn out due to the massaging the woman was getting from the big cock of the blond burglar. She wished that her body could be free. She felt as if the suppression that the ropes added to her body was making all of the sensations so much more intense that she was going to pass out from the passion.
Normally, during sex with her husband, she would move her arms and legs, she would get to relieve some of the tension that had boiled over from the cauldron of her wet cunt. But, now, bound to the bed as she was, she was constrained. Her muscles were tight.
Everything was centered in her pussy! None of her limbs could move and only her pussy was moving, was responding, and continued to respond as the flared head of the blond's dick rubbed against the walls of it.
She heard a man crying out and she wondered which of them it was.
And then she heard another man crying out. She never even found out which of them had cried out first. She felt the cock in her throat growing thicker, getting engorged as the thick fluid shot up the length of the shaft and splashed out into the depths of her undulating pussy.
Since her cunt was already in the throes of orgasmic lust, the woman was driven absolutely wild by the shooting of the cock inside her hot orifice. The prick pulsated and splashed and with each of those movements she felt a special response in her cunt.
Her breasts heaved up. In. spite of the bonds and the pressure of the two male bodies which were now just lying on her, exerting a good deal of pressure during their orgasms, her body was lifting itself up off the body. She was bouncing like a bronco.
Even while the blond burglar's dick was shooting in her pussy, the other cock was shooting into her throat. She swallowed because she felt that she was going to choke if she didn't release the tension in her throat. Then, because of the movement of her throat muscles when she swallowed she could feel the cock pulsing even more.
The massaging of her throat muscles at the very sensitive moment as he was cumming made his orgasm last even longer than it might have. He kept shooting into her throat.
Finally all three of their orgasms dissipated from sheer loss of energy.
The blond was the first to pull off. The black-haired man who was over her face pulled his dick back slowly and then paused to splash the remaining droplets of cum against her face.
By the time the black-haired burglar had pulled all the way out of her mouth and started to climb off the bed, the woman looked up and saw that the blond had his back turned and was adjusting his pants in the front. How strange, she thought to herself. Here was the only man other than her husband who had ever been inside her pussy and she had never even gotten a chance to see his cock. The blond man had been hidden from her all that time.
The black-haired burglar had been over her face blocking her view of anything else. This was, after all, quite a day for firsts. It was the first time she had ever sucked a cock and had it shoot in her mouth. It was the first time she had ever fucked a man other than her husband. Both of those things, she told herself, she absolutely loathed.
But, it was also the first time she had ever been tied to the brass four-poster bed.
And that was a completely different matter as far as she was concerned. That was something she had dreamed about and longed for. She had wanted to be tied to the bed, although it was a want she never dared to speak and one that she never dreamed would come true.
But, was it a dream or a nightmare? Was there any difference between dreams and nightmares? What success does not have its pitfall? What degradation does not have its attractive side?
Yes, she was being degraded, but she could feel the erotic thrill of it all.
She could feel the wetness that oozed out of her cunt and dribbled into the crack of her ass. She could feel her saliva that mixed with the man's cum and oozed from the side of her lips. She was a fine society lady, but she felt as if she were a pig.
The degradation, the helplessness, of being tied to the bed was the lowest thing of all.
Perhaps it was only that it was a change of pace from the woman she had to be all day, that it was a relief from the role she was expected to play in public, that her sexual pleasure was now coming from the fact that she had been treated as if she were the lowest dirt there was.
Why did she feel the embarrassing hunger deep inside her? This bondage! Why was it so wonderful!
Her beautiful brass four-poster, her pride that her husband had given her for their anniversary some years before, had now been turned into a torture rack for the woman. And yet, in the depths of her fantasies, that was what she really wanted it to be.
The two burglars left the apartment quickly. They left the woman lying where she was, on the bed. She was so exhausted that, in spite of all that had happened, she fell asleep.
But she woke early the next morning and started worrying immediately. If she didn't get free from the bed she might die there. No. She knew that wouldn't happen. Someone would find her in time. But it would be horribly uncomfortable if she didn't get out.
And there were other problems as well. With the coming of the morning she felt that she had to pee. But, since she was bound to the bed she didn't know what to do.
Finally, she let it go. She wet herself and prayed that she wouldn't have to lie in it for too long. But then she blushed crimson as she considered the way she would be found.
The phone rang. It rang again. Valerie imagined that it was the friend that she was supposed to see that afternoon. She kept track of the times and the number of rings each time the phone started again. Each time she was trying to get her mind blank so she could just rest and not be too uncomfortable.
But then the phone would ring and she would wonder, again, how long she'd remain there.
It was the early afternoon when the doorbell rang. She started to shout, but she knew that she couldn't be heard. A little later the doorbell rang again. It was two in the afternoon and the woman had been working hard to keep from soiling herself worse than she already had.
But, after this doorbell ringing, the door opened with a key and then Valerie heard her friend's voice shouting, "Valerie." She heard the building manager's voice shouting, "Mrs. Colby!" She started to cry, suddenly feeling as if her embarrassment was going to happen all over again.
Through her tears, she managed to cry out, "I'm in here. I'm in here."
The manager got to the door first, but turned away horrified by the sight of the naked society lady who was bound to the bed. Valerie's friend ran into the room and started to fumble with the ropes. She started to weep right along with Valerie.
"Mrs. Colby?" the manager asked, his back to the room and his professional reserve completely unflustered. "Would you like me to call your family physician?"
Valerie's friend immediately said, "Not a word of this to anyone, do you understand?"
"I assure you, madam, my discretion is absolute." He clicked his heels.
"I. . . was. . . robbed. . . Call the police," Valerie gasped.
"Police? My dear, do you want this thing to grow into a scandal?"
Valerie knew what her friend meant.