There were two of him in the mirror in front of which Estelle sat. The first was a reflection of a television image of him in a suit and tie, at large and wanted for questioning in the disappearance of 39 million dollars from several cryptocurrency portfolios he had been managing. The other was a reflection of him; naked, hairless and in the flesh, but reduced to five and three sixteenths of an inch, spread eagled facing out from the front of her panties to which he was bound by short strips of quarter inch ribbon that she had sewn in place. “Don't worry yourself Rickie.” her voice cooed from above. “I won't let them find you.”
She kept her legs apart and the volume turned up so he could not help but take in the news. The first time she had sat down in front of the mirror with him bound and splayed like this she had asked him, “How's this for manspreading?” and laughed herself silly, jostling him relentlessly for two full minutes before she finally calmed. Now it was an old joke. He'd been captive for over seven weeks and he was intimate with her ways. She never left the house without him tucked away somewhere on her person. He ate when she offered him food; bathed and used the bathroom when she did. When they were at home and she wasn't using him, he lived in a heated terrarium. As far as the general public was concerned, he was a wanted cybercriminal and only he and Estelle knew otherwise. Even his parents and siblings had come to accept the idea of his guilt.
Only a few months ago Richard had hired Estelle as a financial data analyst, but as of last week, she had moved into his old position. “Cheer up!” She had whispered as she closed the door behind them on her first day in his old office. “You're at the same desk, and in the same chair. Just part of a team now!” Then she lowered herself, with him, into it. In that first week, she had “tracked down” over 80 million dollars in diverted funds over two thirds of the original amount stolen. The fact she had been promoted to his old job strongly suggested that nobody so much as suspected that Estelle, not he, had been the one to divert them in the first place. Her real accomplishment, had been diverting the blame. That and “finding” caches of funds to keep the story in the news for them to continue watching together.
Estelle finished putting her hair up and rose from the stool. “Time we got dressed.” The panties he was bound to were all she was wearing but Estelle was a fast dresser. She never hesitated or changed her mind. Today she chose a light blue blouse and a darker pleated knee length skirt. “It's Saturday.” he said weakly. “We're not going into work, are we?”
“Not to the office, no. but I am meeting with a new hire for coffee.” Then the skirt came up, which meant he must be silent.
* * *
She smiled at the way Ricky clammed right up before she was even done fastening her skirt. It did not matter that they were still in her apartment where nobody else would hear him. For a little over a fortnight she had taken the precaution of gagging him, but he was beginning to break in, and she had begun to lift unnecessary indignities on the condition he could behave himself when they were out in public.
He had challenged her and she had prevailed every time. He was no match for her in any way, nor had he any hope of survival, let alone thriving, but for her magnanimous offers to keep him warm and nourished. She had orchids that were more self sufficient than he was. For a short time he had seemed to really believe that death was the better option, but she had eventually robbed him of that conviction. She would not have taken him if there weren’t any chemistry.
As a supervisor he had always been professional, but Estelle was observant. She had caught an appreciative smirk once in reflection against a screened window when she was turned away from him. When she came close to him, she'd noticed he would sometimes take a longer deeper inhalation. She'd seen his eyes flutter once when she'd let her hair down seated opposite him. He wasn't particularly obvious, but Estelle knew potential when she saw it. He had been engaged, and as far as she could tell he'd been faithful. But this only made him all the more gallant to her. If Estelle was going to take someone, it would be someone worth keeping and who might eventually come around. She had not decided lightly, but she had settled on Ricky at last, and judging by his relative compliance of late, she believed she had chosen well.
Leaving her apartment, the day was bright and warm. She took her time to bask in the sun, opening first the passenger side door of her car and dropping her purse on the seat, before walking around and getting in the driver's side. She started the car, leaning forward and gave him an affectionate loin squeeze. He was in for a rough shock today, but it was necessary.
* * *
The view was limited and he had to look down to see even that: her floor, the carpet in the corridor the concrete stairwell (Estelle preferred them to elevators) the concrete floor of the parking garage, and her ever present legs and feet in open toed pumps. Once seated in the car, her skirt draped down in front of him, there was only darkness scented with wool and her recently showered body. Once the car was in gear, she fooled around with the radio. Richard knew she was looking for news about his case, but she did not want to be seen to put too much effort into it and soon settled on a station that played predominantly 70s country.
Richard counted reckoning seconds, and got to 1,743 when she killed the engine, so a drive of 25 minutes or so. She had stopped over a dozen times. He was willing to bet she was parked outside work, no matter what she had told him. After crossing a grass fringe he realised she had not lied. The meeting she was having was at Phelan's, a bar across the street from their office and popular with the staff. He recognized the tiles. Estelle took a booth seat sitting all the way in and sitting at an angle so she could keep an eye on the door. “We're a bit early” she murmured as she arranged her skirt so that it formed a vast canopy he could see out from, “I thought it best if we got here first, so I could choose the right table.” She did not seem concerned about talking to him. Rick no longer bothered to think about it. She might be isolated, she might just have her phone up to her ear. Lots of things Estelle did seemed bold, but the risks were always factored for.
Brunch was being served but Estelle started with a coffee and a plate of cinnamon toast. When the waiter was gone Estelle's hand gathered up her skirt carefully. She had a smidge of peanut butter on the tip of an index finger and she offered it up to him. Go on, she whispered. I'd hate for you to go hungry while we're scarfing away up here, but do hurry! He wanted to defy her but he had eaten nothing since she had strapped him in place and he was too ravenous. He licked her finger clean in no time and she rewarded him with a second helping, this one included a dab of honey. He was almost finished that, when she suddenly withdrew her finger and drew her skirt back down. A moment later she was saying “Hello Aimee, I'm glad you could make it, and sorry for rescheduling.”
Aimee? Rick's mind raced. Aimee took a seat across from them. There was no denying it. He recognized her dress, one of his favourites. Estelle retook her seat making sure to smooth her skirt under her so that it would be stretched above him, and she was “manspreading” as she put it, to ensure he would have a clear view of his former fiancee's lower body across from them.
“Aimee, I'm not going to bother with any formalities. You used to work in this department. You only transferred out when Richard was appointed in keeping with company protocols.
“The less we say about him the better.”
“I understand it must be hard.”
“The little fuck!” Aimee hissed. Richard watched her body clench across from him and winced. Estelle squirmed in her seat and the air around him quickly grew heavier and much more pungent. He felt her pulse quicken against his shoulder blades and it was already warming. This was deliberate. Aimee had been subtly prompted somehow in a conversation he had not been privy to. Those were not her words. “Little fuck” was what Estelle called him when they were alone. At some point she had planted that nasty phrase in Aimee's mind.
“Ok, I'm sorry I mentioned him.” Estelle's voice gave no sign of her arousal but Richard was finding it sweaty. “The point is, I don't think we need to go through any interview formalities. I've been looking through the company procedures for this sort of thing. If you want your old job back, it's yours. You can start next Monday if that works for you.”
“That's wonderful!” Aimee could not contain herself and bounced in her seat. He screamed to get Aimee's attention but it was bad timing and she was making too much noise. Estelle simply crossed her legs and leaned forward to shake Aimee’s hand.
* * *
Estelle's was the only car in the lot. Seated within, she had slipped her panties off to see how Ricky was doing. She'd had to shut him up several times over a fabulous brunch and had finally squeezed him into unresponsiveness. She untied his arms and gently prodded him back to consciousness. No sooner had he come round than he started bawling. No doubt hearing about her new boyfriend Gord, a dork, had upset him -that and the news that they would soon be off to Cancun together. But Ricky needed to know Aimee had moved on. Now he could get regular updates.
She slipped the panties back on, outside-in this time before he could bend to free his legs. Too late! She patted him contentedly. He'd get a little sticky if he tried bending now. She put the car into gear and hit the road. His little body shook against her inconsolably and he clutched and wept into her vulva burying his face like it was a pillow. She hoped this meant he was close to a final and decisive break. She hoped this latest emotional release was some comfort to him because for her part it was exquisite! She decided to delay their return home with a drive in the country and had only rolled back the sun roof when she surprised both of them with a powerful spurt that left him sputtering and coughing. Now he did bend to untie his ankles only to get doused again. It would be harder now, and if he freed himself, she only needed one hand to drive. But she liked his spirit. He writhed and squirmed in panic but she only chuckled. He should know by now that she had no intention of letting him die. “There there” she cooed patting his back and pressing him deeper into his predicament. “Poor little fuck!” She barely finished saying it before bursting into laughter, and she had to remind herself to concentrate on the road.