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Marian and her Merry Maids: Maurice de Grenouille

Meanwhile the disguised Marian and Edith swept into the castle treasury. The two Englishwomen knew whom they would encounter there, and the Sheriff’s chief tax collector, the grasping, corrupt and sycophantic Maurice de Grenouille was indeed in the counting house as usual, drawing up his latest estimates of the income that could be extracted from the peasantry after that summer’s harvest. The Frenchman looked up from his scrolls as the female outlaws entered his lair with a rustling of fabulously patterned silk, and he leapt down down from his stool to bow unctuously and low to greet whom he took to be Baroness de Mandeville and the Duchess of Lincoln.

“Ladies!” Maurice said with a wide flattering grin, “to what do I owe the honour of a visit by the wives of my master’s most honoured guests?” Marian looked the little man up and down with a contemptuous sneer. “Our business is with the Sheriff, Grenouille, not his underling,” she told him haughtily, “is he hither?” The tax collector straightened, his grovelling smile still in place. “My lord is due to join me here in just a few moments, milady,” he replied with oily assurance, “would you and the duchess like to inspect my archives while you wait? They are the most complete in the kingdom!” “That won’t be necessary, Grenouille,” replied Marian. “No indeed.” added Edith darkly and the tax collector suddenly felt a knife at his throat. “We will have the wealth you have plundered from good English yeomen!” Grenoulle’s eyes widened, but before he could raise the alarm, Edith had pushed a cloth gag into the man’s open mouth. Marian grinned as Grenouille was tightly gagged by the young woman. “We wish to make a withdrawal, sir,” she laughed and then pulled off her fleur-de-lys gown in one smooth movement, standing once again in martial splendour as the lincoln green-clad Maid Marian of Locksley.

To be continued

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: “It’s Time To Set Robin Free!”

The two female outlaws stripped the unconscious men of their mail shirts, swords, javelins and undershirts, so they could offer no danger to the women should they stir before Rowena and Aelfwine had completed their mission. “They no longer look like conquering warriors in just their britches!” giggled Aelfwine as she retrieved a set of dungeon keys from one of the prone men. Rowena smiled indulgently and proceeded to crouch in order to bind both Frenchmen tightly, securely gagging them in the process. Once this was completed, the formidable flaxen-haired Englishwoman stood with a sweeping rustle of her purloined aristocratic gown and joined her friend. Aelfwine jangled the keys with a triumphant grin. “I think it’s time to set Robin free, m’Lady!” she said excitedly. Rowena nodded. “Lead on, duchess!” she laughed. Looking back at the two captive soldiers, who were beginning to groan into their gags as they slowly came to, Rowena added: “Let’s hope good fortune greets Marian’s quest also!”

With that, the two disguised outlaws made their way into the recesses of the dank Norman prison.

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Mirror, Mirror

Harold does Star Trek! Lieutenant Uhura, played by the gorgeous Nichelle Nichols, was always the sexiest of the crew-women aboard the USS Enterprise in Star Trek but she mined her inner vamp in the fascinating episode in which members of the Enterprise were transported to the Mirror Universe, where the crew’s equivalents were ruthless and violent cynics, whose Federation wished to conquer the universe like intergalactic Huns, rather than peacefully ‘seek out new life and new civilisations’.

The uniforms worn by the evil Starfleet crew reflected the aggressive nature of these alter-egos and Uhura was transformed from a serious and diligent communications officer into a terrifying Head of Security, decked out in a “barbaric” uniform replete with dominatrix style thigh-high boots and an evil-looking jagged dagger. This depiction of Uhura could have been made for Harold and here we see her nasty double seemingly interrogating a naked, bound and gagged crewman, possibly from the Prime Universe given the transporter room in the background, her hand on her dagger. The muscular but terrified crewman is facing an uncertain fate at Uhura’s hands…

I did commission my own Star Trek story from Harold, which is excellent, and I will post it one day on this blog.

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: The Kiss

Joined by Aelfwine, Rowena led the way down the damp stone steps, stopping only to ask directions to the dungeon. The guards did not attempt hinder such high-born ladies, but Rowena, smiling haughtily, nonetheless offered the awed soldiers an explanation in perfect French: “Nous desirons nous moquer des prisonniers anglais.” she told them. As the disguised outlaws swept by and they entered the part of the castle’s prison where their menfolk were held, the women’s manner altered as they encountered surprised, but suspicious guards, not intimidated by these fake female nobles. Rowena and Aelfwine smoothly adopted a more coquettish demeanour towards these men.

“Soldiers,” Madam Scarlet sighed, “we ladies weary of our oafish and soft Norman lords. We long for the touch of your honest Breton and Gascon hands on our white flesh…” Rowena grinned seductively at the men as they gazed back, astounded. Aelfwine joined in. “Oh to make love to real men of the sword…” she added dreamily. The soldiers’ caution vanished at the prospect of their wildest dreams coming true. “A kiss, my lady!” blurted one, reaching out for Rowena. Both women took a step back, still smiling coyly. “For a kiss from prizes such as we, sirs,” Rowena told the men, “please first remove your head guards and close your eyes.” The soldiers readily agreed, tossing their metal helmets to one side and closing their eyes obediently and expectantly.

The two women outlaws swiftly removed hard cudgels from beneath their gowns. “Are you ready, my gallants?” Rowena asked the guards. As the men nodded enthusiastically, the women brought their cudgels sharply down on the exposed heads of the two Frenchmen. They slumped to the floor stunned. “What fools!” giggled Aelfwine triumphantly.

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Lena and Ingrid

“Lena, could you pass me some more…?”

“Rope? Here you go, Ingrid!”

Life for males in Harold’s universe is not very pleasant. Here yet another guy is humiliatingly bound by two espionage girls, Ingrid sitting astride his naked and defeated form, tightening the bonds around his wrists and with one hand holding her prisoner’s arm still while she does so.

Pretty ignominious you might say, but Harold does provide his wretched men with some compensation. This particular sad sack is afforded a wonderful view of the inside of the gorgeous Lena’s inner thigh while he is forced to submit to the indignity of being captured by members of the weaker sex… if he is actually conscious that is…😬

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: “Thankyou, ladies - for the loan of your finery!”

Once in the annex, the terrified female aristocrats were forced by the grinning outlaw women to disrobe at swordpoint. Soon the expensive silks, outlandish headgear and bejewelled girdles were gathered in a shimmering heap on the stone flagged floor. The anguished noblewomen desperately tried to cover their modesty, protected only by their cloth undergarments. “They don’t look so grand without their robes and gowns, do they, girls?” Edith laughed, surveying the captives with a contemptuous eye. “Nay,” replied Rowena, her eyes shining with cruel mockery, “they just look like any other trollope, standing naked but for their nether garments!” The Norman ladies were unable to cope with the scorn of these terrifying greenclad female commoners and all burst into frightened and humiliated tears.

Marian picked up the gorgeous fleur-de-lys gown belonging to the fair-haired duchess and, peeling off her own outlaw attire, pulled it on. “My Lady!” remarked Rowena in admiration, regarding her. “Odd’s blood, you look the part!”. Marian curtseyed towards her women elaborately with a knowing smile, then said abruptly: “Tie up and gag these high-born wenches. When you have finished, Rowena, take my lady the baroness’ dress and make it your own. Edith - you stay and guard these snivelling sows while we search for Robin.” Marian’s compatriots needed little encouragement to strip the remaining dignity from their female oppressors. The sobbing of the noblewomen only increased while they were tightly and uncomfortably bound only to be swiftly silenced by cloth gags tied expertly over their elegant mouths.

Marian looked at the captives as she swept, rustling effortlessly, towards the door. “Thankyou, ladies,” she told the tied and gagged women ironically, “for the loan of your finery!”

To be continued

[hbfmguy2]

Thanks

“Thanks for the uniforms, boys! Your oversize jackets make nice skirts over our luscious boots, don’t you think?”

“Mmmmmmpppphhhh!”

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: the Norman Noblewomen

A group of haughty Norman noblewomen processed down the residential corridor of Nottingham Castle, their sumptuous silk dresses rustling as they attempted to outbid each other in respect of their landowning husbands’ wealth. “Well, ladies, my husband the baron has just taken possession of one of the last manors in the realm owned by an Englishman.” boasted one gaudily clad aristocratic female, an improbably tall wimple adorning her head. “He is now just a common serf along with his two hundred freemen. It was a gift from King John himself!” Her immediate companion, a blonde-haired lady robed in a dazzling gown decorated with fleurs-de-lys, rolled her eyes. “Two hundred?” she repeated contemptuously. “Why, His Majesty gifted my husband the duke, twice that number just last Whitsuntide!” The competing chattering women swept around the corner of the corridor, heading for the Sheriff’s magnificent dining hall when suddenly, gloved female outlaw hands reached out of the shadows, clapped themselves over the mouths of the arrogant noblewomen, silencing them, and pulled the startled wealthy women into a nearby annex.

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Hogtied and Shamed

Occasionally Harold does photographic juxtaposition art as in the image above in which two Russian policewomen beam at the camera while they stand over at least four anguished, hogtied, gagged, naked and shamed male prisoners. What led to this shocking depiction of abject male humiliation at the hands of these supremely confident uniformed young women, we can only guess at. My interpretation is that the men are escapees who have been recaptured by the officers who have taken the opportunity to impress on the males that further attempts at freedom will not be tolerated and that the naked captives are now writhing and mmmmphing in the last chance saloon…

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: Nottingham Castle

With Robin and his Merry Men incarcerated and the execution of Locksley imminent, the usually formidable Nottingham Castle was unbarred and only lightly guarded by a French garrison happily drinking the health of the victorious Sheriff. It was therefore easy for Marian to lead her hooded three-woman group through the portcullis in search of the castle’s notorious dungeons. A sleepy, half drunk guard was easily overcome. A sword at his throat soon induced his surrender. “Remove such clothing from this cur that God’s decency will allow.” Marian instructed Aelfwine-a-Dale, who still held her sword at the quivering Breton’s throat, in a hushed voice. “Then bind him fast, gag him and blindfold him. That way even if he frees himself he will be in no hurry to raise the alarm!” Aelfwine grinned up at her leader as she pulled the mail and jerkin from the terrified soldier. “This fool will not escape my ropes, my Iady, I promise you that!” she replied confidently.

As Marian, Madam Rowena Scarlet and young Edith, the affianced of Much the Miller’s Son, crept along the stone flagged corridor, Marian looked back in satisfaction and briefly watched Aelfwine expertly finish tying up her gagged, blindfolded and groaning prisoner. Lady Locksley had to admit that that guard would still be mmmppphhhhing to himself tomorrow morning…

But as the female band made their way deeper into the fortress, Marian knew a disguise for her women would be required if they were to rescue her beloved…

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: “Fear Not My Love! I WILL Rescue You!”

As Perrier, much to his anguish, was firmly gagged by Rowena Scarlet, the wife of Will, Marian searched the Frenchmen’s wagon. She emerged holding a scroll of parchment. “Shall we tie these villains backwards on their horses and send them back to the Sheriff naked, bound and gagged, my lady?” Rowena asked the leader of the Merry Maids. “Yes, Madam Scarlet,” Marian replied in a distracted voice, “that is what our men would have done…” Marian’s voice trailed away as she unrolled the parchment and read its French words. Horrified, she turned to her band of outlaws, still in the act of binding their miserable prisoners. “This says the Sheriff intends to put Robin on trial and execute him!” she cried. “It will happen tomorrow morning at dawn!”

The green-clad women turned to each other in consternation. If Maid Marian’s betrothed was not safe, what chance would their own English peasant lovers and husbands have? Shock left Marian’s eyes. She grasped the parchment in fury. “We must rescue him!” she proclaimed. “The Sheriff must not be allowed to extinguish the only hope our people have against these Frankish barbarians! My man must not die!”

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Lady Ginny

Another character within Harold’s version of the dominant female English landed aristocracy is Lady Virginia, or “Lady Ginny”. This lady of the manor is even more terrifying than Lady Francesca and her relentless Gillies. Ginny is an expert wrestler and likes nothing better than to surprise hapless young male intruders on her estate, shotgun in hand, and force them to strip naked before challenging them to wrestle with her. The unsuspecting males go along with this trial by combat, confident of victory, without realising that not only is Ginnie a skilled fighter, she is also a man-hating psychopath, willing to use her wrestling abilities to take her fights to a lethal conclusion…

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: The Stripped and Bound Frenchmen

The Frenchmen were indeed prisoners. Outnumbered by the outlaws and taken by surprise, the soldiers, used only to terrorising unarmed English peasants, dropped their swords and yielded to their green clad ambushers. The men’s jaws dropped when they realised that Marian Fitzwalter was not the only woman in this band of cutthroats: to their horror and shame the mercenaries saw that the entire terrifying band were female! To compound their humiliation, these Normans and Gascons were then forced to strip to their under garments at swordpoint by the grim faced victorious women who then tied them up securely with strong ropes. Maid Marian looked on her captive, Gaston Perrier, the leader of the Sheriff’s men, who stood, bound, shivering in the late summer forest breeze. “All your loot will be returned to the good honest English families from whom you stole it!” Marian told the glum-looking Gaston. The captain of this defeated troop felt nothing but shame at their defeat by a gaggle of English peasant women masquerading as Robin Hood’s Merry Men.

‘After all,’ Gaston asked himself despairingly, looking around at his soldiers, all of them now semi-naked, tied up and some of them gagged, ‘aren’t we supposed to be the conquerors here…?’

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Scarlet Witch

One of the best things about commissioning Harold Bear to do some art for you is that he can, literally, make your dreams come true. Now, like many comic book fans growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, I would guess that a lot of young male readers were struck by Marvel’s Scarlet Witch - the Avengers sorceress who was as strikingly beautiful and sexy as she was mysterious and slightly terrifying. As an adolescent, only just discovering my fm bondage fetish, I scoured Avengers adventures in vain looking for a story in which, just once, the majestic enchantress would tie up a defeated bad guy. I always drew a blank, I’m afraid. However, with Harold, who is as much into pop culture as anyone, it is easy to ask him to create a scenario the comics of my childhood shied away from.

Now the above detail is not from one of my commissions, but it demonstrates how Harold is able to accurately recreate the comic book heroines of old and depict, in this case, the Scarlet Witch efficiently and securely tying and gagging a defeated villain (a henchman here I think). When you get your childhood fantasy pretty much fulfilled to the letter (the key is in the specification), there really is no room for complaint, is there?

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: “Yield or Die!”

Suddenly, before the soldiers had time to react, the forest was filled with whoops and cries as a dozen or more green-clad figures leapt from the branches where they had hid, to tumble the Frenchmen from their horses, or strike them hard in the face with the toes of their well-tailored, if slim and well-fitting, leather boots. “Outlaws!” went up the cry from the disoriented and scared mercenaries: being attacked by a group of freemen bandits was not what they had bargained for in this allegedly pacified land.

One of the outlaws sprang towards the leader of the Sheriff’s men as he prepared to abandon the booty-laden wagon and disappear into the forest. A gauntleted hand waylaid him and a longsword was soon at his neck. “Yield or die!” came a high-voiced command. Gaston Perrier, the hapless officer surrendered immediately without looking around. “I yield, I yield!” he babbled. “But what daring band is it that has inherited the domain of the imprisoned Robin Hood?” A distinctly female laugh greeted the man’s frightened enquiry. The bemused soldier turned to look in amazement at the shapely form of a young woman, in the clothing of a woodland outlaw, as her hood fell back, to reveal luxuriant blonde tresses beneath. “The Hood’s betrothed,” she proudly answered Gaston with a smile, “I, Maid Marian Fitzwalter! And you and your men, Norman, are now prisoners of the Merry Maids of Sherwood!”

To be continued.

[hbfmguy2]

Lady Francesca and the Gillies

I’m slightly shame-faced to admit it, but one of my fantasies is that involving a tweed-skirted lady of the manor taking some young male yokels captive when she discovers them trespassing on her land (tell me what British class obsession has entered my fetish there!). So I was very impressed when Harold came up with the character of Lady Francesca and her aristocratic but fairly terrifying shotgun-toting female followers known as “The Gillies”. Francesca and her beautiful toffs take great delight in capturing, stripping and tying up the estate intruders and as blonde-haired Samantha warns the hapless men while tying them up and gagging them, “The lady has ordered something special for you!”

Scary stuff…

[hbfmguy2]

Marian and her Merry Maids: “These Roads Belong To Us!”

With Robert Locksley, also known as Robin i’ th’ Hood, safely incarcerated in the dungeons at Nottingham Castle, the pathway through Sherwood Forest was safe for the Sheriff’s tax-collecting mercenary French soldiers to stroll through once more, their wagons loaded down with wealth extracted from the English peasantry, from yeomen loyal to King Richard, and even from the Church. These men knew less than half of their plunder would fill the coffers of Prince John: the rest would be retained by the Sheriff, Robert de Rainault, who would also use these “taxes” to pay his rapacious armed freebooters. The men strode with the easy confidence of the Norman conquerors from whom they were descended, sure that nothing could prevent them from taking what they wanted, when they wanted from the improverished English.

But then, a slim lincoln green-clad hooded figure, expertly hidden in the leafy branches of one of the many trees surrounding either side of the forest path, suddenly let fly with an arrow shaft. The projectile struck its mark - the helmet of the leading Frenchman, knocking it clean from his head. “Mon Dieu!” the man exclaimed. “Who dares…?”

To be continued.