Scarf Party

***

What would be my third trial? The women were learning how to tie me more effectively. If they tied me up and became relaxed about what they were doing, how much would I suffer?

"This time," Julie said, "we tie Alan to the bench with three scarves. On the bench, Alan, flat on your back."

She arranged me so that my feet were on the floor; my body along the bench and my head was slightly angled upwards.

"You won last time, Helen, so you start."

Helen bent over me. She kissed me then moved down to my feet. She tied each ankle tightly to the legs of the exercise bench. She looked underneath the bench and threaded a scarf through one of the bars supporting it. She took my arms and bent them underneath the bench before cross-tying my wrists. Secured to that bar, I couldn't move my hands in any direction. Helen sat calmly through the five minutes allowed for me to try to get free. It was obvious from the beginning that I was completely secure. I wriggled my body and tried to sit up. The bonds around my wrists cut into me.

"That's it." Helen announced. "I've done it. All you three have to do is duplicate what I did and Alan will be helpless each time. This is no test for us, is it?"

"No," Julie replied. "Alan is tied up and we could leave him like that for hours. He still wouldn't be able to release himself. So..."

"So?" Patricia echoed.

"So we do something else. Get all your scarves and wrap him tightly to the bench. Leave his neck and head free, but swaddle him in silk so he knows that he is totally in our control. OK?"

The four of them knelt beside me. Each of them wrapped several scarves around me and tied them under the bench. Gradually I was covered from ankles to neck. I enjoyed the slither of silk over my skin but each tied scarf restricted my movements further until I was mummified in silk and struggling to breathe through the layers of silk holding my chest tightly. I could only take shallow breaths.

"Now what?" Sandra asked as the last scarf was tied.

"I think he needs hooding," replied Julie.

"With what?" retorted Sandra. "We've used all the scarves."

"We have other ways. We could use our skirts," Helen suggested.

"Skirts?" Sandra asked.

"Yes. Why not, Sandra?" Helen replied. "Sit on his chest and wrap your skirt around his head. That should hood him effectively. We are all wearing large enough skirts."

I looked up at them. Their skirts would have been brushing my body if I hadn't been swathed in layers of silk scarves.

"Is that OK with you, Julie?" Sandra asked. "After all, Alan is your boyfriend."

"Yes," Julie replied. "I wanted him humiliated this evening. Skirt-hooding will help. Helen should be the first since tying him to the bench was really a contest. Helen?"

Helen stepped forward, straddled the bench and lowered herself. She was wearing a lightweight ankle-length denim skirt. She grasped the back hem and pulled it between her legs. She dropped both layers of skirt over my head and dragged them down behind me. At first I could breathe but as the cotton became damp I had to pant to keep breathing. Helen held her position for about half a minute before pulling her skirt up and getting off me. Her hand came down to stroke my cheek.

"Sandra?" Julie asked.

Sandra straddled me. Her black skirt was also ankle-length. She had to lift it a long way to stand over the bench. She sat down on my chest forcing a gasp from me. She lifted one layer of her skirt exposing a black silk lining. Once she had dragged the skirt and its lining over my head I was in trouble. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe through the two layers. I couldn't struggle. My body was totally immobilised by the silk scarves. My head was clamped between Sandra's nylon sheathed thighs. Sandra's skirt ballooned into my mouth as I gasped. That made Sandra realise that I was smothering. She untangled my head and repositioned her skirt so that the hem covered my mouth, leaving my nose free. Even then I was tightly gripped between her thighs.

Sandra released her grip and moved closer to my face before her thighs tightened again. All I could see was folds of her skirt poised above me. If Sandra let them drop I would be suffocating again. She let them fall as she stood up. I looked up inside her skirt but the blackness prevented me from seeing anything above her knees. Her skirt dragged across my face as Sandra stepped away.

Patricia was next. She was wearing a very full tiered white cotton skirt. The lowest tier had several layers making a frothy effect. She lifted her skirt between her legs, as Helen had done, before gently resting on my chest. She let her skirt fall over my face. Soft fluffy layers of thin cotton covered my whole face.

"Open up, Alan," Patricia ordered.

I opened my mouth. Patricia stuffed masses of cotton inside. Even when she had filled my mouth full, my face was still hidden inside multiple layers of her skirt. I tried to speak, to protest that gagging me wasn't in this scenario, but my voice was completely muffled. Patricia tightened the outer layer of her skirt across my face and knotted it behind my head. I felt as if I was drowning in soft material. I felt Patricia's hands press over my mouth for a few seconds. If she had continued I would have been smothered. I thought that I couldn't hold my breath any longer but Patricia relented, unknotted her skirt, and dragged the sodden mass of cotton out of my mouth.

She moved down my body, bent forward and kissed me on my gasping mouth.

"Only Julie to go," She whispered. "Good luck."

Then Patricia was gone.

Julie kissed me before sitting on my chest. Perhaps she was beginning to feel that I had suffered enough. I hoped so. All of them had been drinking steadily and I was scared that they would suffocate me by mistake. Sandra and Patricia had starved me of breath. What would Julie do?

Julie's dark red skirt was fully flared jersey, possibly a full circle, but shorter than her friends' skirts. Theirs had been ankle length. Her skirt was mid calf. As she lifted it I saw that her skirt, like Sandra's, had a silky lining, bright red and shimmering in the light.

She eased herself forward on me, tenting her skirt above my head. She lifted my head with one hand and slid the skirt behind me. The skirt's lining ballooned into my mouth as she twisted the material tightly around me. She had enough skirt to wrap it twice around my head and I was suffocating again. Julie held the skirt tight just long enough to show what she could do to me and then unwound it. She rested the skirt loosely across my face before lifting it further so that I could see up between her legs.

She was wearing my favourite scarlet French panties. When I say 'my favourite' I mean the ones I love seeing her wear. Those panties moved closer and closer to my face and then with a final nudge Julie buried my face in them. If I hadn't been so trussed and bound I would have reacted by grabbing her thighs. Julie squeezed them tight around my head as I enjoyed her scent. She rocked backwards and forwards on me. I timed my breathing to match her movements and felt my body reacting to Julie.

In the distance I heard one of the other women object to Julie's actions. I couldn't tell which of them because I was lost under Julie's silk-sheathed pussy and enjoying it.

Julie slowed down and stopped. She moved down my body. The silk lining of her skirt caressed me as it passed over my head. When I was finally uncovered I was smiling with my eyes shut. Julie kissed each eyelid and then my lips.

"I think he enjoyed that too much," she said.

"So did you," retorted Patricia. "We didn't come here to watch you face-fuck Alan. We came to practise tying men up with silk scarves. So far we are doing well but that wasn't in the script."

"Sorry," Julie didn't sound contrite. "On to the next part. Can you three untie Alan while I get the chairs... and some more drinks?"

It took some time to release me from the dozens of scarves tied around my body, arms and legs. I heard Julie enter the room twice and thuds as she put heavy pieces of furniture down. I was able to turn my head as she came in carrying a tray of drinks.

We sat down. Julie had brought a heavy wooden chair from the dining room. It had wide-splayed legs held with cross struts. Beside it she had stood an S-shaped tubular chrome chair.

I had another lager. I went to the bathroom and rinsed my face. Julie's natural perfume was still very strong. When I returned the women had downed at least two drinks each. The exercise bench had gone. The heavy wooden chair stood in its place.

What would they do to me next? I didn't like the way they were drinking. My lager lasted the same time as three of their drinks.

***

"Patricia?" Julie asked, "Could you show us your party trick?"

"Of course," Patricia replied. "Alan, please come and sit on the metal chair."

I sat.

"Grip the sides of the chair with your hands, please. You don't have to put any effort into it. Just hold the chair."

"OK," I said.

Patricia picked up a handful of her scarves and the sports bag she had brought her scarves in and moved behind me, out of sight. I heard her unzip the bag.

Suddenly a mass of material passed my face and Patricia dragged it down my body. I was enveloped in a tube of soft material that included the chair. Patricia lassoed my ankles in a scarf and pulled it tight. I felt but couldn't see her tip the chair slightly forward and the scarf to the bar resting on the floor at the back.

She moved behind me and closed a short zip at the back of my neck. I looked down at myself. I was bagged in a slim cotton nightdress and the whole process had taken very few seconds. As soon as the nightdress had passed my hands I had been made helpless.

"Alan, try to get free," Patricia asked.

My hands were free inside the nightdress yet I couldn't do anything to escape from it. The material clung to me. I couldn't ease the nightdress upwards. It was too tight around my thighs and legs. My feet were dragged backwards and I couldn't get a grip on the floor.

"I can't," I admitted.

"I thought you couldn't," Patricia said. She turned to the others. "This is what I did to my boyfriend Guy, but with a black silk nightdress. I left him like that for half an hour. He objected so I did this..."

She pushed a scarf folded into a square block across my nose and mouth. My mouth opened instinctively. Patricia pushed the wad in, wrapped a scarf folded into a band over my mouth, around my head, and knotted it tightly over my mouth. She covered that with another silk scarf over my nose, mouth and chin, again knotted tightly. She placed a third large scarf folded into a triangle, on to my head, crossed its ends under my chin and tied it at the back of my neck. I was blinkered by the sides of that scarf and could only see in front of me. Patricia was standing facing me.

I tried to speak. A few muffled sounds emerged. They wouldn't have been heard beyond the room.

"I made a mistake with Guy," Patricia admitted. "My silk nightdress, although high-necked with a cut-out here..."

She pointed to her cleavage. Patricia's cleavage is well worth looking at. I reluctantly dragged my eyes up to her face.

"...was sleeveless and buttoned at the back. Guy managed to wriggle one hand out of an armhole and had unfastened two of the buttons before I noticed. Had I left him for a few more minutes he would have been free and very annoyed with me."

Annoyed? I thought. Guy would have been more than annoyed. So would I have been if Julie had done this to me without warning. Consensual bondage can be fun. Becoming your girlfriend's helpless victim without warning and with no agreed signal of release is humiliating. Guy had been bagged in a sexy black silk nightdress. The cotton one wrapping me tight was utilitarian and the only sexy thing about it was Patricia's perfume wafting across my nose.

"As you can see, Alan is tied in a long-sleeved nightdress. He might have been able to wriggle a hand down a sleeve – except that I have knotted them. The zip is much better than buttons."

I twisted my head so that I could see past the scarf. The nightdress sleeves were tightly knotted a few inches from the shoulders.

"Julie? Have you got an office stapler anywhere?"

"I think so, Patricia. Why?"

"If you have got one, I'll show you."

I heard Julie leave the room. I tried to turn my head to follow her. The tightly wrapped headscarf didn't move with my head. All I did was cover an eye with silk. Patricia's fingers straightened the scarf out and then pulled the sides forward and closer together. Now my face was set well back in a deep hood and my vision was even more restricted.

Julie came back.

"Here you are, Patricia."

"Thank you. Watch this."

Patricia walked behind me. Her fingers pulled at the back of the nightdress's neckband. There was a loud click.

"There! I have stapled below the zip slider. Even if Alan could reach the zip it wouldn't open. Try it."

The three women moved out of my sight. I felt several tugs at the back of my neck. The zip didn't move.

"And how do you get him out?" Julie asked.

"Ideally with a staple remover. If not, with a small screwdriver or pointed knife to ease the staple open. Whichever you use he has to co-operate and keep very still. If he struggles he will get hurt. A tiny staple and Alan is stuck as my prisoner until I want to let him out and he is in a co-operative mood. You can see the advantages."

They could. I couldn't. I was ridiculously trussed in a nightdress, gagged and nearly blindfolded. If Patricia wanted to blindfold me I couldn't resist.

"What did you do to Guy?" Helen asked.

"This..."

Patricia stood in front of me. She lifted her top to show her bra. She pulled my scarf-sheathed head into her cleavage.

"I held him like this while he struggled. Notice that Alan isn't struggling. While Guy struggled I wrapped my arms around him tighter and tighter, watching his forehead get redder and redder as his breath ran out. I'm not holding Alan that hard. He can still breathe, can't you Alan?"

I nodded. That was a mistake. It brought me deeper into her cleavage.

Patricia stepped back.

"Anyone else want to breast-smother Alan?"

"I'm first," Julie said. "He is MY boyfriend."

Julie's smother was tighter than Patricia's but still bearable. Her hands stroked my head through the layers of silk scarf.

Helen's breasts are the largest of the four. I seemed to be surrounded by them. She was merciful. She tilted my head back so that my nose was clear of her massive softness. If she had really buried me in her cleavage I would have been lost.

Sandra smothered me with one breast. She curled an arm around my head and turned me into the side of her cleavage. My nose sank into her breast as she clamped me hard against her. After ten seconds of soft comfort she released me. If I had not been so tied up, I would have enjoyed all their cleavages. As it was, my helplessness was emphasised, and enforced by just a nightdress, a couple of scarves and a staple. What could Patricia do with coils of rope or handcuffs? Julie could be fairly severe to me. I didn't envy Guy if her upset Patricia.

Patricia turned the chair so that I faced the settee. They all drank some more while watching me struggle silently and helplessly.

"I intend to make a special nightdress," Patricia said, "when we have learned some more at the dressmaking class. My silk one isn't secure enough. The one controlling Alan is too obvious. I can't leave it lying around or Guy would suspect. My other nightwear won't do. The skirts are flared and won't hold Guy to the chair."

"So what do you need?" Helen asked.

"A nightdress that is very long. That one is sixty inches from neck to hem. I can wear it because I'm tall. It would be too long for most of you. It must be straight up and down, not shaped below the waist, and not too narrow or I couldn't fit Guy or Alan in it. You need the chair, of course. We have six of them as dining chairs. We bought them second-hand from an office furniture depot."

"I think I have something that would do," Julie said. "It's not a nightdress, more like a silk caftan used as a housecoat. It has a front zip. Would that matter?"

"Not if you used a staple quickly," Patricia replied, "otherwise Alan could pull it down."

"I'll get it. I'd like your opinion. More drinks anyone?"

They all nodded. I wanted to object. Julie's speech was already slurred.

While Julie was gone, Patricia came towards me with one hand behind her back.

"You can see that he is helpless. Once he is like this you can add more..."

She wrapped another silk scarf around my head blindfolding me.

"...and then you can do what you like..."

Her hand brushed over my chest and then edged downwards.

"...but that wouldn't be fair to Alan, nor to Julie."

Her hand stopped a couple of inches from my straining erection, left my body and caressed my head.

"Here are the drinks." I heard Julie say. "What do you think of the caftan, Patricia?"

I felt the caftan being measured against my body.

"It should do. We'll try it after these drinks." Patricia said.

"Won't he be free once you remove your nightdress?" Helen asked.

"Not if all four of us manage the changeover. He won't have the opportunity to get loose and anyway he won't see what we are doing."

She was right. As the nightdress was eased up my body they wound scarves around my legs and lashed me to the chair. My wrists were secured tightly. My head was bundled inside the nightdress as Patricia fought to remove the staple. That was the longest operation of the transfer.

Julie's silk caftan slithered over my body as they pulled it down the chair. It didn't come as low beyond my knees but that didn't matter. I was tightly bound to the chair with silk scarves. I felt the short front zip being pulled up. Someone pushed my head back as the stapler clicked.

"There we are," Patricia said triumphantly. "He's Julie's prisoner now. I'll let him see how he looks."

She removed the blindfold. I looked down. I hadn't seen Julie's caftan before. It was royal blue heavyweight silk and held me even tighter than Patricia's nightdress had. I felt that I was wrapped in silk instead of being restrained in cotton.

"As I was saying," Patricia continued, "I want to make a special nightdress to use on Guy. It wouldn't have any armholes..."

She pulled at the wide sleeves of the caftan.

"...these could make escape too easy if Alan hadn't been scarfed first. I think it wouldn't have a zip but an elastic neckline and perhaps a closed hood."

I hadn't known that the caftan had a hood. Patricia flipped it up over my scarfed head and pinched it shut.

"If this was sewn together, Alan would be in real trouble and totally in the dark. You are in the dark, aren't you Alan?"

I nodded. The gag held cruelly tight in my mouth stopped me speaking. Patricia let the hood open again.

"I get the picture, Patricia," Julie said. "What do I need to do to my caftan?"

"Sew the armholes closed. The sleeves are too wide to be knotted and the silk probably wouldn't knot anyway."

Patricia tried to knot the caftan's sleeves. The knots slipped undone.

"Thank you, Patricia. We still have the other chair to use. Shall we let Alan free now or have more drinks?" Julie asked.

They agreed to more drinks. Patricia pushed the caftan's hood forward. Between the sides of the scarf and the lowered hood all I could see was my blue silk sheathed knees and the floor. I heard them all head for the kitchen and I was faintly aware that they were talking. The toilet flushed a couple of times. I was grateful that I had used it on my visit to the bathroom. If I had needed the toilet there was no way I could tell them.