As the fire engine screeched on to the drive, two tight, round buttocks disappeared into the rhododendron half way down the garden to the rear of the huge property.

The crew of slightly overweight firemen charged at the front door with a battering ram – a few energetic thumps later saw the oak frame in shards on the marble hall floor. With breathing apparatus covering their faces, the emergency response team trampled over the tiger print rug and forced their way through every room on the lower level of the property, pointing their hose like a sniper sighting a deadly killer.

The fire alarm continued to shriek as the men pounded their way up the spiral staircase to the landing. Looming over them was a six foot portrait of an entwined couple wearing nothing but matching butterfly tattoos on their inner thighs.

Continuing upwards, the first fire fighter reached out to open the closed door in front on him. He rattled the handled but it wouldn’t turn. Under a little pressure from the 16 stone figure, it yielded and flew open to unveil a scene of confusion. Dangling from a chandelier in the centre of the room was the figure of a woman, barely cloaked in a silk dressing gown. Her eyes were covered by a velvet mask, her hair tied back with what appeared to be a gymkhana rosette.

The alarm finally fell silent as the threat of fire had been ruled out. As he pulled the mask from his face in amazement, the rest of his team piled into the room. One by one masks came off and heads tilted back – mouths open like guppy fish waiting for bait.

A pair of fur lined mules balanced on the dainty feet protruding from beneath the gown which then began to wriggle and kick. Jolted out of their daze, the men acted as one in moving forward to reach up to the suspended figure. A bedroom chair was dragged to the centre of the room and one of the uniformed men sprang up to untie the knotted rope which went from her wrists in a clever formation up her back, around her neck and over the main body of the light fitting. With no resistance, the woman fell quickly into the arms of the men below. The gag was carefully pulled from her jaw – all eyes and ears looking expectantly at her face for some kind of response. Her eyes opened slowly against the glare of the light.

“Can you speak?”

She coughed a little – her mouth having dried up from the gag. She nodded, not daring to talk.

“Are you ok?”

She nodded again. “I’m OK….it was a game….with my husband…we like to…”

A noise parted the crowd and a flustered suited man ran into the room.

“Honey! Are you OK? I came as soon as I heard the alarm was going off. I….”

He looked down at his wife…