The Love Burglar

Discussion in 'The Big Bookshelf (Library)' started by TawnyT, Mar 15, 2019.

  1. TawnyT Tawny Tomsen [______________________] [__________]

    Blog Posts:
    A Story of "The Love Burglar" featuring Berseh and Tawny

    Written by [AtomicWick][​IMG]

    Episode 19: Not Unfunny


    Carson LeGroin heard familiar footsteps come down his dark hallway. The figure stepping in and out of cones of light was unmistakable. The sultry and jacketed curves of me, The Love Burglar. My face in shadow beneath my glossy, blonde hair, but the light pooling on cleavage juggling slightly with every step. I had no totes or sacks on hand. Which meant I was here to pick up.

    "Miss Tawny," said Carson. "I was just counting your money."

    "You mean you were saying goodbye to it," I said.

    "I am loathe to part with large amounts of cash, but your latest merchandise was better than top grade. I may have counted it more than once."

    "Do I have to wash that money?"

    "You wound me. But I will chalk that up to your small attempt at humor."

    "I can be funny."

    "Of course you can."

    "Seriously. I am a funny girl."

    "As you say, Miss Tawny."

    "Now who is wounding?"

    "Not my intention, surely. But at the risk of sounding impertinent, you couldn't bake a pun if you put it in the oven."

    "That makes no sense."

    "Now MY puns are like butter, because they're on a roll."

    "You are so confusing sometimes."

    I pocketed my money and went out the upstairs exit from the fake greeting card store. The weather was bright and even the sidewalks looked clean. The amount of dried gum seemed reduced by half. I did not pay too much attention to anything else. I was thinking of suits I could buy that would be tight on me. And I was thinking of gowns for Berseh that would be sheer and flimsy on her. She was my swan, and such dressing would be beautifully feathering over her body.

    The thoughts were making me damp.

    But then I became upset because Carson implied I had no sense of humor! How dare he! I AM funny, dammit! I KNEW chickes crossed roads to get to the other sides! Would an unfunny person laugh at that?


    So irritating. I was now in a bad mood. I needed to tie somebody up. Bondage always made me feel better.

    When I got home, Berseh had left a note saying she was at the office of her modeling agency. They were planning her next shoot. She was to be a damsel in distress for crime novel covers. A very lucrative deal.

    Thankfully, Betty was home. She was stretching and exercising in the nude. That would make it easier for me.

    "Come here, Betty," I said.

    "Yes, mistress," she said.

    I crossed her wrists behind her back and attached them to a harness that accentuated her breasts. Yanking with her hands would make them pop out a bit more. I put her blonde hair up in a ponytail and fit her mouth with a nice red ball gag.

    Then I tied her legs at the ankles, and above and below the knees. It was traditional bondage, mostly. But I was too upset to be too creative.

    Of course, I added the crotch rope. I believed in rewarding my toys.

    I attached a collar and leash and led her hopping around the apartment. The little mmphs she made and the jiggling of her flesh amused me. My inner tension, and anger towards Carson, began to ebb.

    After a while, I simply tied Betty to a chair. I was getting so distracted, I was almost bored. The Love Burglar? BORED? Un. Thinkable. Damn Carson for what he said to me! I would have tied him up in spite, but that would ruin my chances of ever dealing with him again. And though he did not seem to be quite as dangerous as Cru, one never could tell. These days I underestimated nobody. Doing so in my early days cost me dearly.

    Soon, Berseh came home. She was dressed in 1940s fashion, a wonderful dress like Ingrid Bergman wore in Casablanca. And of course, a lovely wide brim hat.

    "Hello, my love!" she said.

    "I am so glad you are home," I said.

    "It appears so. Otherwise, Betty would be wearing the ropes meant for me. Let me change and we can relax."

    "Time for that later, my swan. I need to talk."

    "Uh-oh. What's up?"

    I took Berseh to the couch. We sat and held hands as Betty looked upon us from her chair. I looked deep in Berseh's eyes.

    "Am I funny?"


    "Do you think I am funny?"

    "Who on earth have you been talking to?"

    "Carson thinks I cannot make puns if I placed them in the microwave."

    "That makes no sense."


    "Your fence is a brute. Don't listen to him."

    "You have not answered my question."

    "Um . . ."


    "Now just wait, my queen . . ."

    "Do you seriously think I am not funny?"

    "I'm . . . I'm just trying to decide which answer will get me tied up tighter."

    "Oh, you are going to be tight all right."

    Within minutes, I had Berseh laying naked on her stomach over a hassock. Each wrist was tied to a wooden leg in front. I ran ropes underneath from the legs in front and the legs in back to hold her knees together. Then I folded her legs up so I would not trip over her feet.

    Then I brought out a special chain attachment. One end had a smooth metal hook. The other end was a harness bit gag. I put the gag end on first. The glimmer of fear in her eyes as I inserted the hook in the other end was sweeter than a dish of chocolate butter mints.

    The hook pulled on the gag so her head would not droop. Holding one's head up in that position was very tiring. So this was a very helpful gag.

    "Cannot answer now, can you?" I said. "Has the hook got your tongue?"

    Berseh laughed as she squirmed in her bondage. Even Betty was smiling over her ball gag.

    "Did I just make a joke?"

    "Aw-haw," said Berseh.

    "Mm-hm," said Betty.

    "I knew I was funny! Wait till I tell that joke to Carson. That will certainly show him."

    I felt a warm tingle go all through my body. It was comforting to know I was truly funny after all. I went into the kitchen for a while and came back with a cup of hot tea.

    "I thought a cup of Earl Grey would help me enjoy my triumph over Carson, that old harumph."

    Berseh and Betty giggled again.

    "How about that?" I said. "I do believe I was just funny again!"

  2. TawnyT Tawny Tomsen [______________________] [__________]

    Blog Posts:
    A Story of "The Love Burglar" featuring Berseh and Tawny

    Written by [AtomicWick][​IMG]

    Episode 20: A New Toy


    I was out on a rare afternoon, dressed in a tight white shirt, and blue jeans. I did not normally wake quite this early, but my capriciousness gets the better of me at times. I went to the department store where I hid out a few nights ago, Coppola's Sporty Stuff & Stuff. It was not too hard to find again, even though I was not paying much attention that night. Most of my attention was focused on staying away from the flood of police out then.

    A newspaper headline told me they were on the lookout for a cat burglar, no other details given. Was it me they were searching for, or somebody else? It was time to take a break from robbing and fall back into stealing only love for a while.

    If they were after somebody else, that would will out.

    I found myself on a familiar avenue. I scanned the doors until one felt like the right one. And so I found it again, the window with a selection of various sporty and trendy clothing and products. As I walked inside, I knew just where to find the closed sign from last time. A small shingle hidden inside a display shelf by the entrance. I hung it and turned the dead bolt. The owner heard the click and faced me.

    "I don't have a lot of money," he said. Then he recognized me. "Oh no."

    "I am not here for money," I said.

    "You're not gonna dress me up like a lady again, are you?"

    "Just for a few days."

    "What do you mean for a few d-mmph!"

    Several smooth strips of tape kept his complaints to a minimum. I took a makeup kit from my tote and painted his gag to match his skin tone. Then I drew pretty red lips with my lipstick and put a lovely auburn wig on him. It had long bangs to obscure the eyes, but not blind him. He put his wrists behind his back for me to tape together. I guess he accepted his fate. I wrapped him in a long coat and tied the belt tight in front.

    Now I could lead him back to Berseh's and my apartment.

    In preparation for bringing back my new toy, I had placed Berseh in a full body manacle. A kind of cage that held her in a standing position. Naked, of course. Because why not?

    "I am back, my swan!" I said.

    "That was a fast trip," said Berseh. She was facing the window, but could see slight reflections in it. "Do you have somebody with you?"

    I walked around to face Berseh directly.

    "I have brought home a new toy."

    "YOU WHAT?" Berseh's face contorted in rage as she shook in the manacle.

    "He's going to stay with us a few days."

    "What do you need HIM for? I'M your toy! Not him or that trinket you have chained to the pet bed in our room!"

    "You are not just my toy, you are my love. You are life and he is just a few days."

    "I DON'T LIKE IT! I can barely tolerate that ponytailed hussy, but THIS irks me! RAAHHRR!!!"

    "I can see you need a calming down period."

    I placed a big red ball gag in Berseh's mouth and took my new toy to the bedroom to fix him up. Betty was curled up in the pet bed. The chain to her collar just long enough to let her walk to the toilet. The locked harness panel gag had a tiny hole in front for a straw in case she got thirsty. She stirred and sat up, staring at the new stranger.

    "Betty," I said, "we are going to have a new guess for a few days. Let me introduce you to . . ." I turned to him. "You know, I never got your name."


    "Well, I cannot call you that. But something will come to me. Right now it is time to dress you up."


    "You will soon learn being negative gets you nowhere with me. I gave you a gift of watching me before. This is your return payment."

    I removed everything from his body. I did not let him speak. The first thing I did was redo his makeup gag so it was tighter and more blended in with his face. I added eye shadow, fake lashes, and liner. I also primped the wig to make it glamorous.

    Before dressing him, I placed a cage on his front part so he would not achieve full extension. This would help him look more woman-like. I made him don tight gray fishnet stockings and a black spandex mini-skirt. I also procured large saline implants to put in his bra. They would be more appropriate than water balloons.

    Then I gave him a tight green shirt to put on that stretched beautifully over his new breasts. I tied his arms behind him in reverse prayer style. Then I wrapped his torso in black electrical tape so only his green-shirted bosom showed. The fabric stretched over them tighter.

    I put high-heeled shoes on his feet, then taped his legs together at the ankles, knees, and thighs. Next I attached a collar and leash.

    "You are such a pretty package," I said. "Let me re-introduce you to Berseh."

    I tugged on the leash and he was forced to hop behind me in those heels. But I was patient and watched how his chest quivered and bounced with every hobbled step. Finally, we were back in front of Berseh and I removed her gag.

    "What do we call him?" I said.

    "Call him SLUT!" said Berseh.

    "That is not nice."

    "How about Tramp? Or Strumpet?"

    "I was just thinking how like a pretty bird he is."

    "Mmmph! Nmmph!" he said.

    "And how the tight bondage makes his voice a bit higher. Especially with that cage under there."

    "Mmmph! Ggmmph! Mbmm!"

    "I have it! Your name is Tweety!"

    "I think I prefer Strumpet," said Berseh.

    "I think I prefer the ball gag back in your mouth," I said.

    "If you say so-mmph!"

    Despite his protests, I led Tweety on some more hopping around the living room. I was greatly enjoying the difficulty he was having. And the sweeping of his hair in tandem with his breasts was poetry in motion. I was reminded of every helpless damsel in distress I had ever seen in television and movies.

    But I guess I was enjoying it too much. Berseh became unusually vocal while gagged. I truly did not intend her to feel neglected. I needed to give her attention. She was my swan, after all. And I felt safe in her wings.

    I led Tweety over to the glass coffee table, which doubled as a bondage display case. I had frequently contained Berseh's and Betty's ball-tied forms in the case while enjoying a cup of tea. It was also just big enough to fit both girls inside it, but only for a short time.

    And while I was laying Tweety in the case, I had not noticed that Berseh was working her gag loose.

    "P-tuh!" she said, the gag falling around her neck. "Serves you right, Tweety Strumpet! I belong to her, not you! Enjoy life as a drink coaster!"

    "Time to take you out of that," I said to Berseh.

    "Yay! I win!"

    I gave her time to stretch and yawn, to go to the bathroom and freshen up. Then I tied her up again, but just at the wrists and ankles.

    "Hey, what gives?" said Berseh. "Is that all?"

    "I am going to take a nap," I said. "And I need a pillow."

    "But you still have clothes on."


    "So I was hoping we could cuddle and talk about having chocolate creme pie later and then we could watch that movie about Morocco again because I just love how Rick and Ilsa feel about each other and then maybe you could turn me into a chair while you plan your next adventure and of course we could f-mmph!"

    The ball gag went back in, a little tighter this time. Not so easy to spit out as before. I cuddled up close, laid my head on her chest, and let her breathing take me to sweeter places where only we could go together.