Tied And True Tales

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Tied And True Tales
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Let me start of the story by explaining my self. My name is Michael and I live in my own apartment in New York, but at the time of this story I lived in a wealthy suburb of Chicago. When I say wealthy, I mean everyone has a bug, expensive house, a nice car, and lots of toys to go along with it. This story takes place when I was in middle school. I was part of a friend group with lots of people. My good friend Shawn's parents were always out of town on business. Shawn is the youngest of 5 children in his family. His older sibling would stay home and watch him and make sure he didn't get into too much trouble. One day Sean and I were hanging out at my one friends house playing video games like we usually did. The friends house we were at had some crazy parents though. They were always fighting. We could here them arguing from across the house. It was so irritating so we decided to leave with all of our friends. Once we left we began to discuss what we would do now. Shawn said that no one was at his house but he wasn't allowed to go their with out his older sister their, who had stuff planned all day. We decided that we would go their and chill and leave right before his sister got home. We arrived at his house and immediately went into his basement where his flat screen tv and video game console were set up. Their was 5 of us down their just playing video games for a little while. Eventually, I had to go to the bathroom. Shawn told me to go use the bathroom in his room in case I made a mess or something like that. Like I was explaining earlier, the houses in our area were not small. I had to walk across his massive house. And as I was nearing his room I heard music and it kind of freaked me out a little bit because no one was supposed to be their. I hesitated for a second and the continued on slowly to see where this music was coming from. I finally reached the room where the source of the music was. The door was wide open. I slowly peaked into the room and saw his sister on the bed. Now before I continue, let me just explain to you Shawn's sister. Her name was Emma and she had recently graduated high school and was going to college in a few months. She was a varsity athlete on the girls Volley ball team. Shes about 5'6 and skinny but now too skinny. I've talked to Emma before, she has a nice and easy going personality. I don't want to get too much into physical detail but she has a somewhat fat ass and nice pair of boobs. She has brown eyes and brown hair. Anyways, as I turned corner into her room, all i saw was her bare belly. She was only in her underwear. At first I was a little startled. But I quietly made my way in. As I walked around the bed she was on, I analyzed her bondage. She had one of those mask ball gag things on so she couldn't see anything. Also the ball gag in her mouth was massive. She probably couldn't even make any noise is she wanted too in that thing. She had belts tightly rapped around her thighs down to her lower legs and had a pair of cuffs on her ankles. Another pair of handcuffs connected her elbows, and another pair on her wrists. She then finished off the hogtie with a final pair of handcuffs. In addition to all of that, Emma had also connected a chain and connected it to the back of her bondage mask and her ankles cuffs and tightened it so her head was stuck looking up. As I slowly crept around the bed, I spotted the key that Emma planted in order to make her escape. And like the bastard I am, I snatched the key. This turned me on so much. I'm sure you can imagine how I felt. Me, a sixth grader in middle school, had a senior in high school, varsity Volly ball player tied up in her underwear completely at my mercy. The only possible way for her to get freedom was if I decided that she could have the key. But until then, I owned her. I eventually made my way back downstairs, with the key still with me off course. I played a few rounds of the game we were playing, although I was thinking more about my bound slave rather than the game. I kept thinking about how I should probably go give the key back but i was too turned on to do that. After about 3 hours of playing video games straight i went back up stairs to my captive. When I got up their, I found Emma wiggling around ferociously, looking for the key. Her wiggling around was definitely the hottest thing. She was wiggling so much but barely moving at allI didn't know how long she had been trying to escape either. For all I know, she could have been trying since i took the key and left. I analyzed her body a little bit longer before putting the key back in a place that she would eventually find it. I walked down stairs and we left. Shawn was hurrying us out because he didn't want us to be their when his sister got home. Every time I think back to that it turns me on. I had poor Emma bound for so long.

The summer was coming to an end. Their was about a month left of school. I soon would begin my 8th grade year. It was sort of depressing as I knew I wouldn't have the same freedom I had in the summer. At this point in my, life I lived in a wealthy suburb of Chicago. My parents were very rich and had a big house.

My parents would soon be leaving on their end of the summer vacation to Las Vegas for two weeks. This unfortunately meant that for all this time, I would have a babysitter. It wasn't all that bad though. My babysitter, Rachel, was very good at entertaining me. She would babysit me every day that both my parents worked and would leave
Annie woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Stretching her stiff limbs, she tried remembering why.
 Then, some muffled moaning came from the side of the bed. Annie looked over the edge of the bed to see her friend Amanda hogtied with handcuffs, gagged with a ball gag and blindfolded with a scarf.
 She suddenly remembered the events of last night. She had come to Amanda for a sleepover, and after a series of events, it had ended up in her getting involved in some bondage games. She didn't really know a lot about it, so it had scared her at first, and for payback she had tied Amanda up like that for the night.
 "How can she even sleep like that?"
  Once again, Annie woke up to the sound of mmphing from beside the bed. She peeked over the edge to find Amanda awake and squirming.
  "Want freedom" Annie asked while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
  Amanda was enjoying herself too much, so she shook her head.
  "Fine, but keep it down. It's not even 10am yet, and I prefer to sleep on a while on Sundays."
  Amanda understood and quieted down. She could soon make out that her friend was sleeping again.
  "I might as well get some sleep of my own" Amanda thought, making  herself comfortable.
  A few hour
It happened in a marriage function.

The parents left the kids in a room with my Sister in law and went out. Since i had nothing else to do , I joined them. there were five of us. Me , my Sister in law , and 3 teens. I was 23yr old at the time and Geetha , my sister in law was 30. She still looked amazing. Black mid-length wavy hair , curvy figure and some good boobs. She was wearing an yellow Kurta with a red shawl

We were silent for a long time and Geetha was toying with her shawl. I Grabbed the shawl and tied her hands behind her back. I then tied her legs with some clothes lying around and then blindfolded her to complete the bondage.

T
This is my first experience with bondage and one of my favorites.
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i totaly would have done sooo much more with her and played with her :)



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I worked as an office manager once, and it was my job to open and sort all of the mail, including packages. It was a pretty boring job for the most part, but every now and then there would be a wave of excitement when my boss’s crazy ex-wife would come in and scream at him in front of all of his employees.
So I’m doing my mail duties when an odd looking package arrives for my boss, the CEO of the company. I open it as part of the standard office procedure. I pull out some packing materials, then an item wrapped in plastic wrap.
What is this? I think to myself. Oh, a leash. Must be a leash for his dog. What’s with the metal things? This is kind of weird, I think, so let’s pull out the invoice:
“Dog collar with attached nipple clamps.”
Dogs don’t need nipple clamps, so what the shit.
I throw everything back into the box as if *I’M* the one who has just committed some horrible sin against nature. I hop onto my computer and pull up messenger and message my boyfriend. “QUICK. I NEED TO KNOW HOW TO TAPE UP A PACKAGE AND MAKE IT LOOK LIKE IT WAS NEVER OPENED.”
Tons of totally rational and then totally fucked up explanations are going through my head. Halloween is coming up soon, maybe this is for a crazy party. Or maybe my boss is just seriously kinky and doesn’t have the foresight to send these types of packages TO HIS HOUSE. I got mental images, playbacks – not pretty.
I carefully tape up the box and pack it neatly. Voila! It looks as though it was never opened! No one will touch this stuff! I sneak it into his office and put it on his desk with the rest of his mail.
So for weeks, I can’t make eye contact with my boss, and at one point, I almost greeted him with a “Good Morning, Mr. Nipple Clamps” because that’s all that would go through my head when he walked in the door.
We go out on a business trip and at dinner, he tells us about how an old secretary is sending packages to his work and picking them up from his office, and he’s DYING to know what’s in them, but he never opens them.
Having had like 4 glasses of wine, I raise my hand.
“I know what’s in them,” I say, my face turning more purple than the merlot I’m drinking.
I have everyone’s attention now, and at this amazing restaurant in downtown Chicago, I blurt out, way too loudly, “NIPPLE CLAMPS!”
I tell them the story of the accidentally opened package. (We found out what the deal was weeks later because it turns out this lady who used to work for him was running a sex service behind her family’s back and making good money at it, but she couldn’t let her family know she was a dominatrix for hire so she had the boxes sent to her old work. How bad would that screw your teen daughter up, anyway?)
After I tell the table, including investors and business associates (glug glug glug) about how horrified I was and how deftly I re-taped the package to look as though it had never been tampered with, and how proud I was of my handiwork, the table falls silent.
So this one guy looks at my boss and says, “Your secretary has been walking around for weeks thinking you’re a sick pervy bastard! She must have been terrified to fly out here to Chicago with you!”
Hey man, sometimes I was paid in wine. Nipple clamps or no nipple clamps, that’s a good deal.
Design by Simon Fletcher . Powered by Tumblr .

This story is an account of my earliest experience of being tied up.
The story is a true one, but if I restricted myself to only the elements that I
could swear were absolutely accurate on the proverbial stack of Bibles, it
would be a very slender tale indeed, and it probably wouldn't be worth the
effort of reading it.
I don't remember every tiny detail and I certainly don't remember
every word of conversations that took place half a century ago, so I have quite
unashamedly made them up so as to give a sense of time, place and character
that seems to me to be 'true' in the broad sense. "Corroborative detail
intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing
narrative," as W.S.Gilbert put it in 'The Mikado'.
I think my interest in tie-up games stemmed from a fascination with the
concept that you could immobilise someone by tying them up. Way back in the mid
1950s, when I was aged about six or seven, this seemed to be a regular
occurrence in the books and comics I read and sometimes on television. The
images on television came and went, leaving just a memory but the drawings in
comics could be studied at leisure. British girls' comics provided a wide range
of subject matter in these stories. There were plucky girl detectives or
intrepid reporters trying to unravel sinister mysteries, there were historical
dramas involving an heiress abducted in a coach and four by her wicked uncle,
courageous kids aiding the Resistance in wartime France and many others.
Whatever the context, a surprising number of these heroines would end up
trussed up in one way or another in the course of their adventures and I was
desperate to know what it felt like.
For a long time I assumed that rope was the only possible material to
use for tying people up until one day I read a story where the heroine had her
hands tied behind her back with her own striped woollen winter scarf. We didn't
have rope in the house, but I need look no further than the chest of drawers in
the bedroom I shared with my sister to find a scarf. I decided to experiment.

I think I had three scarves to work with. I selected one at random and
sat down on the floor to begin my experiment. It must have been winter time as
I remember that I was wearing the long woollen stockings (with their
uncomfortable and awkward suspender belt) that we wore before wool tights
became commonplace for girls a couple of years later. They were probably black;
I think all my stockings were at that time. I'm not sure what else I was
wearing, but it would probably have been something like a pleated knee-length
skirt with an elasticated waist and a heavy hand-knit sweater worn over a soft
short-sleeved blouse rather like a modern polo shirt.
I wrapped one of the scarves around my ankles several times and fastened
it by tying a simple overhand knot, the only knot that I could make at that
time. I knew that real knots were more complicated but had no idea how to go
about tying one. As bindings go, it was, of course, dismally ineffective: a
couple of kicks and it came undone instantly. Nevertheless, I persevered and
re-tied my ankles.
I used the second scarf to tie my knees in the same way. It made the
ankle binding fractionally more secure, but only to the extent that it took
perhaps three kicks instead of two to get free. I re-tied my ankles once more
and then my knees again.
I put my hands behind my back and tried to work out how to tie my wrists
together with the third scarf. I couldn't find any way of wrapping it around my
wrists while still holding it, let alone knotting it. I decided to try tying my
wrists in front instead, as my second-best choice. I could see what I was doing
that way, but it was equally unsuccessful. Finally, I settled for wrapping the
scarf around my arms and body, just above my elbows, and tying the ends
together in the middle of my chest. It would only stay in place if I kept my
arms tightly pressed to my sides and didn't move.
Somewhat exasperated, I untied myself and put the scarves away again.
However, I wasn't about to give up on the experiment and decided to enlist some
help from Karen, my sister. She was only fifteen months older than me, but
still my big sister and someone I could turn to for help.
As chance would have it, when I found her, Karen was reading the very
comic that had triggered my experiment in the first place. I told her what I
was trying to do and she immediately agreed to help. By pooling our own winter
wear and exploring the depths of our shared dressing-up box, we amassed about
six scarves. I remember that one was a tiny pink one that one of us must have
worn as a toddler and one was a monster about eight feet long that our mother
must have worn before the war. I think the rest were more reasonable sizes.

I sat down on the bedroom floor once again and Karen did her best to
immobilise me. She tied my ankles and then my knees in the same way that I had
tied my own. Her knots were exactly the same as mine and just as ineffective.
However, as I wasn't struggling, they both stayed in place. I put my hands
behind my back and Karen did her best to tie my wrists together. The first
attempt was not at all successful: four feet or so of woolly scarf wrapped
around two slender wrists resulted in an unwieldy bundle that didn't feel
remotely secure. The second try, using the small pink scarf was a bit better
but no more expertly knotted. Karen finished off by winding the really long
scarf from the dressing-up box around my arms and chest about four times and
then knotting the ends. The overall result felt snug but not terribly secure.

Our younger brother Timothy appeared at the bedroom door at this point.
He is three years younger than me, so he must have been three or four at this
time. He usually took an interest in the things that Karen and I did together,
but would occasionally decide that we were doing scary big-girl stuff and
decide not to investigate further. Seeing his sisters tying each other up
seemed to come into that category, so he went away again without saying
anything.
"See if you can get out of that, Becca," Karen encouraged me as I hadn't
moved since she had finished tying me up.
Escape took a matter of seconds as all the knots yielded to the
slightest tension. Undeterred, Karen tied me up again, pulling all the bonds
just a little tighter the second time.
If I sat perfectly still, I had some faint inkling of what it might feel
like to be tied up, but I knew that escape was trivially easy, so there wasn't
the remotest sense of helplessness, let alone peril. All-in-all, this wasn't
very satisfactory.
Just then, my mother passed the bedroom door. "Mum, can you help,
please?" I called out.
My mother came back to the doorway. Timothy was with her, solemnly
surveying my predicament. "Becca, you're all tied up!" my mother exclaimed. "Do
you need help to get out?"
Karen and I explained that I had just the opposite problem and I needed
help to stay tied up. I pointed out that our knots didn't work and asked our
Mum if she could show us how to do better ones.
"Have you been to the toilet?" my mother asked, apparently changing the
subject.
I was puzzled, but replied that I hadn't done so recently.
"It's always a good idea to do that first before you play games like
this and do a lot of energetic struggling," she
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