Excise Duties

Where was I? Why was I a helpless suspended parcel? Who had done this to me? Why?

The questions whirled in my brain but there were no answers.

At last I faintly heard footsteps, the clack of high heels. They stopped suddenly.

"Maureen!" A woman's voice shouted loudly. "Sandra! Come quickly!"

There was no trace of the Sussex burr that had been so obvious from the women I had been with last night.

Several hands lifted me and lowered me so that my feet touched the ground. I swayed helplessly but I was supported by a couple of bodied against mine. Fingers scrabbled at the material hooding me.

"My silk scarf!" A voice exclaimed.

I blinked as it was removed and the bright electric light met my eyes.

"My bra!" A different voice. My mouth and nose had been covered by a large cup of a moulded bra, tightly tied around my head. A hand pulled a sodden scarf out of my mouth.

I blinked. Maureen, the bar maid from yesterday evening, was taking her bra from my head. Sandra was holding her scarf in one hand as she propped me with her body and other arm. I assumed that Angela was behind me.

"How did he get our clothes?" Maureen asked angrily.

"Don't be silly," Sandra said. "There is NO way he could have done this to himself. That's impossible. Someone, probably several people, did this."

Angela was unbuckling the harness from around me.

"How could he have got this? It was in the cellar, and that's locked."

The duvet was unwrapped from around me.

"My..." Maureen started to say.

"Ours." Sandra interrupted. "He's tied up with our clothing. I don't know how. None of my items were anywhere but in my room. Whoever did this had access to everywhere in the staff areas."

Underneath the bonds of corset, pantyhose, scarf, bra etc., I was wearing the casual clothes from yesterday evening, the clothes I had stripped off when I went to bed with three naked women.

My mouth was dry and I could only croak. Angela supported me to the bar and gave me a glass of water. My head was pounding with an incipient hangover.

"How did you get like that?" Sandra asked.

I took a sip of water. Sandra and Angela helped me to sit in the chair I had been in yesterday evening. They sat beside me, just as they had then.

"I don't know. I must have drunk too much last night..."

"We all did," Maureen retorted. "That 'Strong Cider' was distilled. It had never paid excise duties."

"Excise! That's it!" I exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?" Maureen asked.

"I either had a bad dream last night, or the ghosts were playing a practical joke on me."

"The ghosts?"

I explained what I thought had happened up to the time I was pushed into the room with the three women.

"You can't stop there," Sandra said. "What happened next?"

I blushed. They laughed at me. I drank some more water before replying.

"I think some of it must have been wishful thinking after yesterday evening..."

"With whom?" Maureen asked.

I blushed again.

"With all three of us?" Sandra asked.

I nodded, blushing again.

"And you satisfied all of us?" She asked again.

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly? Then what?" Sandra again.

"Could I have a coffee before I finish the story?" I asked plaintively.

"Of course," Maureen replied, going behind the bar.

"You've had a rough night," Angela said. "If you were trying to satisfy all three of us, you must be shagged out."

I blushed at her directness.

"You fucked all three of us?" Angela was incredulous.

I nodded. Maureen brought the coffee, black and strong.

"Tell!" Maureen insisted.

Slowly and reluctantly I told them what seemed to have happened. When I had finished the three of them looked at each other.

"It might have been enjoyable," Maureen said. "But as far as we are concerned, it didn't happen. If it had, it might have compensated you for being trussed up and suspended like a partridge being hung to mature. But it didn't."

"But he was trussed up. In our underwear," Angela protested. "He didn't do it to himself. We didn't do it. Who did?"

"The ghosts of the smugglers?" Sandra suggested. "After all, last night was Halloween."

"Ghosts!" Maureen snorted. "I know this hotel is supposed to be haunted, but reports of ghosts who truss up the guests in underwear and suspend them could ruin us. We'll all be out of work, and there's not much other employment around here, is there? Please Andy, don't say a word to anyone."

Maureen had used my real name, not the John Smith alias I'd claimed during the night.

"OK. Since you ask so nicely, Maureen, I'll keep quiet. I'd like to know who did tie me up if you three didn't. Part of last night was a great experience, even if it didn't happen. I'll try to forget it."

Maureen jumped on my lap and kissed me. I kissed her back. Sandra and Angela kissed me too.

The three of them were still worried. For the next few days they fussed around me during the day, and at night...

I had a different woman in my bed each night. The real woman, on her own, was easier to satisfy than the three ghosts had been. I really enjoyed my remaining stay at The Hanged Man.

I just don't want to be the Hanged Man myself. I never did find my torch.

Next time I'll pay my excise duty on any spirits.