March

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The Playhouse (by Doug)
Tied by Friend's Sisters (Anonymous)
Ambushing Jill (by Jon(McA))
Sister (by Cobra)
Games with Janet (by Jon(McA))
One Girl and Five Boys (by Akakevich)
Gillian's recollection of Games with Janet (by Gillian)
Home Adventure Movies (by Exacta)
Neighbourhood Girl (by ltd)
Jill's Revenge - by Jill (by Gillian)
JD's Revenge (by JD)
Discussion about Tie-Up Games
Murder at the Vicarage (by Gillian)
Sherry's Revenge (by Ash)
Gillian's Birthday Present (by Gillian)
Sister & Friends (by Mark)
Peter and Paul (by Gillian)
Rachel and Erin (by A-Man)

Comments and stories from the people:

Mon Mar 02 17:08:44 PST 1998

Welcome back, Canuck. I've got another story that I'm going to post soon.

Doug
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Mon Mar 02 17:11:45 PST 1998

When I was ten years old, I spent two weeks in the summer with my cousins at my Aunt Jean's house. My cousins Donna, 11, and Shirley, 9, had previously initiated me into their bondage games by spontaneously tying me up in the basement rec room (see my earlier post, Feb 10, 1998, for details). A few days later, Donna, Shirley and I had made plans to go swimming at Becca's house. Becca was a friend of Donna's who lived two doors down from my Aunt's house. Late that morning, I found that everybody was gone except for Shirley. She told me that Donna awoke earlier and was already at Becca's (Aunt Jean took George with her on an errand, and Keith was gone, as usual). After a quick breakfast, I changed into my bathing suit, slung a towel over my bare shoulders, and left with Shirley.

Once at Becca's house, I was impressed with the home-made playhouse that sat in their back yard, towards the rear of their property. Made of wood, the playhouse was a simple box-like structure with a slanted roof. Becca ran out and greeted us. She was twelve, clad in a one piece bathing suit and barefoot, with long blond hair. She told us to put our towels on the picnic table, and come and see something inside the playhouse.

As soon as I entered the cramped playhouse, I was stunned at the sight before me. There was another boy, about my age, lying on the floor. He laid on his left side, with his back facing us. He was bound hand and foot with clothesline rope. Like the rest of us, he was clad only in a bathing suit. When he craned his neck to glance over his shoulder, I saw that the boy was gagged with tape. Donna knelt over him, expertly checking the knot on the rope that bound his ankles.

I could recall feeling great excitement--as well as a feeling of dread. I had been eagerly
anticipating the moment when Donna and Shirley would spring another bondage game on me, but I never dreamed that it would be with the participation of people outside of our family. Both Becca and Shirley started giggling behind me. Shirley then whispered something in Becca's ear.

Donna got to her feet and smiled broadly at me. She had a roll of tape in her hands, and had pulled a strand off. "Hi, Doug," she said casually enough. "How's it going?"

I knew what was coming, so I braced myself. "Why did you tie him up?" I asked.

"For the same reason we're gonna tie you up," Donna replied sweetly. Then she placed the strand of tape over my mouth. "We're kidnapping you."

Before I knew it, Becca and Shirley had tackled me to the floor. I put up a fight by tickling Shirley in the stomach, but then Donna joined in the melee, and my arms were soon pulled behind my back.

I was forced to lay on my stomach while Donna straddled my back and tied my wrists together with rope. Then she re-tied them by running another strand of rope vertically over my original bond. If nothing else, I was grateful that the floor of the playhouse was covered with an old piece of carpeting, which was no doubt placed there by the builder to protect barefoot kids like us. Although the carpet still felt threadbare and gritty, at least I wouldn't have to worry about getting splinters.

Shirley and Becca were still laughing and whooping it up while Donna methodically tied my ankles together. She double tied them the same way she tied my wrists. Then, she had me roll over on my right side while she wrapped a rope around my legs and bound them together just below my knees. Donna double checked my bonds, then placed more tape over the strand that already gagged my mouth. When I was bound and gagged exactly as the other boy had been, Donna stood up with a satisfied look on her face.

Shirley angrily said, "Aren't you gonna hog tie them?!"

Donna shook her head. "They're not going anywhere." She then whispered something into Shirley's ear, which made her younger sister nod in agreement. Donna then started fanning herself with her hand and said, "It's getting real hot, isn't it?" When Shirley and Becca concurred, Donna added, "Why don't we take a swim in the pool? See you later, boys."
Just as the girls were about to walk outside, Becca suddenly turned back and said, "Oh, by the way: Doug, this is Jim, my brother; Jim, this is Doug, Donna and Shirley's cousin."

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Jim just glared at her over his gag. Becca then knelt
down by our bound legs. With a mischievous grin on her face, she tickled our bare feet. I was ready for it, so I showed no reaction, but Jim pulled his bound feet away with an indignant grunt under his gag. This made Becca try to tickle his feet even harder until a call from Donna outside made her stop. As she walked outside, I heard Becca say, "What's the fun in tying them up if you can't torture them?"

The playhouse had no glass in its windows, they were just open frames, there was also no door, as well. So I could still hear the girls laughing and chatting wildly outside. Then I heard somebody--probably Donna--give a whoop which was followed by a trio of loud splashes in the pool.

Jim started to struggle against his bonds. We couldn't have been anymore than a foot apart, and I watched over my shoulder as his squirming brought him closer to me. Jim stretched his arms as far out behind his back as his bonds would allow. Then he made a grabbing gesture at me with his bound hands.

Then it hit me. By lying back to back like we presently were, Jim and I could untie each other's bonds. Yet as a result of his struggles to get closer, Jim wound up lying in such a way that his hands were too low to reach mine. But I could reach his hands easily.

It didn't take me very long to find the knot that bound Jim's wrists together. I started tugging at it, and the strands of rope began to pull loose. Soon, I felt the bonds slip away from Jim's wrists, but I realized that Donna had double-tied him, as well, so I was only halfway through the job. I craned my head over my shoulder to find the second knot binding Jim's wrists and went to work on that. By now, I had broken out into a sweat. Not only was it a warm July day, but it was also very humid. The playhouse offered a meager cross breeze between the front and back windows, but Jim and I were lying on the floor. In the distance, I could hear a lawn mower start up. What I would give to have one of those mower blades to cut these ropes!

After fumbling with the knot, I finally yanked it loose. I watched over my shoulder as Jim pulled his hands free of the rope, then sat up and went to work on the ropes binding his legs. Once his legs were untied, I waited patiently for Jim to untie me, but he pulled the tape from his mouth first.

No sooner did he drop the tape gag on the floor did Jim get to his feet and start climbing out the rear window of the playhouse.

Startled, I shouted, "What are you doing!" It came out muffled under my gag. Jim paused halfway through the window to wave bye-bye to me silently, then he was gone.

I let out a groan as I laid back against the floor. Some gratitude....

It wasn't long before I heard one of the girls outside scream, "Hey, where are you going?!"
I just laid there and waited for them to come into the playhouse.

Shirley arrived first, followed by Donna and Becca. They were all dripping wet with their hair slicked back from having been in the pool. Donna knelt down and helped me to sit up.
"I can't believe he left without freeing you," she said, sounding irked. "That's rude!"

I nodded glumly; it was all I could do with the gag still covering my mouth. Becca stood there looking very disappointed while Shirley just shook her head. It was at this point that Becca's mother started calling for her. I learned later that Becca's mom had glanced out the kitchen window and became suspicious when she saw everybody had congregated around the playhouse. Becca ran off to talk with her.

"I knew you should have hog tied them," Shirley muttered in disgust.

"Shut up," Donna snapped. "Or I'll hog tie you."

Becca came back. She told us that her mother had decided to join us for a swim.

Donna let out a weary sigh. She had been kneeling next to me, and now she reached behind my back and started untying the rope binding my wrists.

"No, wait!" Becca frantically said. "I don't think my mom knows he's here, so we can leave him tied up."

"It's over, Becca," Donna said firmly.

"There's always next time," Shirley said, as she helped to clean up the loose rope and tape from the floor of the playhouse.

Life went on. Of course there was a next time.
There were many more times, not only during that summer, but the others that followed.
But this story has taken up so much space already that I'll have to save the next one for another occasion. Thanks for reading it.

Doug
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Tue Mar 03 15:42:00 Est 1998

I gave a welcome back on the other page but I guess it wouldn't hurt to do it here too. Thanks for picking up the slack (oops-no pun intended) Canuck. I posted to Bobs page once or twice and will be back here too.

Tina

Wed Mar 04 11:09:24 Est 1998

Loved your story Doug!

MB

Wed Mar 04 21:49:46 GMT 1998

" Your our Prisoner" Said 7 year old Judy.

" Yes and you'd better not escape" added her sister Sandra who was 9.

I had called around for my friend David to ask him out to play but he had gone off some where and was due back shortly.

"Come and see our Tent" the girls had said.

It was July and I was 10 at the time. The girls had just finished putting up a ridge play tent in the middle of their back lawn with the door facing the top of the garden.
I had stepped in to have a look around and then this mischievous look had come into the girls eyes. They had become bored with playing tents and were now looking for more excitement

"Lets tie his legs together so he cant run away" Said Sandra.

Judy got some of the pieces of rope over from guying the tent and quickly wrapped it around my ankles. I went along with then as Sandra took over and tightly knotted it. Another piece was tied around my knees and I was told to sit down and not escape, which I did.

I sat there for a while while they looked at me then they decided that my hands better be tied so that I could not untie my legs. With a gentle push I was down on the ground in the middle of the tent. More rope was fetched and I let them tie my wrists behind my back.

"Thats it " said Judy "Now he really is our prisoner" .

"Not Quite" added Sandra .

"Why not?" says Judy.

" I think he should have a gag" stated Sandra .

" What's that?" Queried Judy.

" Something tied over his mouth to keep him quite, we don't want him calling out for help, do we" .

" Get me those Hankies off the washing line"

Judy went outside the tent to where the washing line was by the side of the lawn. I had noticed earlier that there were several bunches of handkerchiefs pegged out to dry.
Judy came back into the tent."I can't rech them" She said and out went Sandra to try to get at them.

Sandra came back with one of the bunches of Handkerchiefs.

They were bone dry and there was 5 of them in the bunch. Three small ones, which judging by the printed animal pictures and embroderied flowers, must have been theirs or there Mothers. Two large ones,and all were very stiff from drying in the sun.

Sandra dropped them on the ground next to me and picked up the small ones one by one and started to push them into my mouth.

She gave Judy one of the big ones and told her to fold it across the corners and then into a strip.

I continued to play along with them and accept the dry hankies which were being pushed into my mouth.

When Sandra had finished pushing the last small hankie into my by now full mouth, Judy let out a yell" I can't fold this Hankie"

Sandra snatched it off her and folded it quickly into the strip and pushed the middle between my teeth and tied the ends behind my head.
Judy came over with the other large one and managed to fold it three cornerwise and tied it over my mouth and nose like a mask.

"There" said Sandra" Thats captured him"

They sat with me for a while why I squirmed around and made sounds through my gag adding to there enjoyement. Eventually they left me in the tent to do something else.

After they had gone, I thought I had better try and escape. After all what would David say if he found his friend all tied up by his sisters.

I managed to push all the soden hankies out of my mouth with my tonque and they all fell into my lap But the two large handkerchiefs still remained tied around my mouth. The first one now around my chin.The other still being held up with my nose.

I managed to pull one hand out of the ropes around my wrist then finished off the untying. Finally I removed the two hankerchiefs and came out of the tent leaving the ropes and gags in there.

David came back home a little later and neither I nor his sisters mentioned my capture.

Anonymous

Thu Mar 5 01:38:09 UTC 1998

Good to see you back on line again Canuck!

My usual subject matter seems to be off-topic for Bob857's site now, so I'll use one of your new ones soon.

Jon (McA)

Wed Mar 04 21:06:30 Est 1998

Nice to have you back Jon-McA!

So, have you talked to Gillian since your last post? I'm glad my forum helped you get in touch with each other.

I can't wait to read your next story.

Cheers!

Canuck

Thu Mar 5 21:14:37 UTC 1998

Yes, 'Gillian B' and I got in touch, first by e-mail then by phone. However here-and-now private life is private, so I'll leave it at that.

Gillian and I have agreed a few more stories which we are mutually willing to post. We will however remain cloaked in secrecy - no e-mail addresses and no URLs. Gillian likes to sign herself 'Gillian B' and I will still refer to her as 'Jill' in my stories (neither is her real name). Gillian wants to use 'Jon' as my alias in stories, so I've changed my by-line to 'Jon (McA)'. Confused? Probably not as much as we are!

Jon (McA)

Thu Mar 05 17:14:52 PST 1998

Thanks, MB, for your kind words about my post. I appreciate it. Jon-McA, great story! I would also like to thank Canuck--again--for now putting up a new site for boys tying girls. Since most of my bondage experiences occured during my childhood, this is where I'll be posting them.

Doug
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Fri Mar 6 06:53 Est 1998

Canuck..thanks for letting us post here..i'll be posting soon! :-)

katie

Fri Mar 6 22:16:03 UTC 1998

Doug: Actually that story wasn't mine. I was posted anonymously on Wednesday. My posting on Thursday just happened to be the first signed one following it! I agree it was a good story, but I can't claim the credit.

(I will post something soon, when my business workload diminishes a bit.)

Jon (McA)

Sat Mar 07 02:25:54 PST 1998

Whoops! Sorry about that! I have read your earlier stuff and liked it very much, though. It's nice to see I'm not the only one who has had some interesting experiences. My apologies to whoever actually did write the previous post.

Doug
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Fri Mar 6 16:11

Ambushing Jill

This story relates another incident dating back to the mid 60's when I was 10 or so and involved my friend Bob (age 11) and his sister Jill (12). Previous stories have been posted to Bob857's site and to Canuck100's site.

Bob and I felt that we still had some way to go to get even with Jill's spectacular revenge on Bob and me, which had been largely stage managed by Bob and Jill's Mum. (I posted this story on Canuck's page a few weeks ago.)

There was a Friday night coming up when Bob would have me as a guest to stay the night and Jill would have her schoolfriend Janet to stay. Bob and I didn't know Janet very well; she and Jill were in the first year of secondary school, while Bob and I were still at primary. We nevertheless concluded that the most telling revenge we could have on Jill, would be if her friend Janet could arrive to find Jill tied up.

Bob and I had already learned through various tying up escapades (especially those involving Bob and Jill's Mum) that the key to success was planning. We proposed to tie Jill to the desk chair in her bedroom, using a variant of the chair-tie that she and her Mum had used against us. The variant was that we had recently learned the use of a tomfool knot to achieve a rapid binding of the wrists and felt that this would give us a useful edge over Jill's superior strength.

Came the Friday in question, we went straight to Bob's house from school. (I had dropped my overnight things off in the morning on my way to school, so I didn't need to go home first.) Jill had a longer journey home, so we knew that we would have at least fifteen minutes before she arrived. We also knew that Janet was going home before coming to Bob and Jill's house, giving us another clear fifteen minutes between Jill's arrival and Janet's.

We gathered a suitable heap of woollen scarves (our preferred bondage equipment) and hid in Jill's bedroom. We guessed that Jill would go straight to her bedroom to change out of her school uniform before Janet arrived. It worked out just perfectly, Jill came trotting up the stairs immediately on returning home.

She had unbuttoned her coat, but was still wearing her scarf and gloves. As she came into the bedroom, I said, 'Hello, Jill,' and she turned round in surprise. Bob, who was now behind her, grabbed her coat and whisked it downwards, sliding it off her arms. As she spun back round to face him, we were ready. We had already prepared a tomfool knot in a short scarf, which Bob was holding. I grabbed Jill's arms from behind and pushed her hands together in front of her. As I did this, Bob slipped the loops of the tomfool knot over Jill's wrists, still with her gloves on, and pulled the ends tight and knotted them together.

I had the chair in position behind Jill by this time and pushed her down into it. Jill was still too shocked by our attack to mount any effective resistance. I removed her long school scarf, which she was still wearing, and tied it round her arms and body, so it came just above elbow level, pinning her arms to her sides and her upper body to the chair back. The chair back had a convenient overhang of about an inch either side beyond the width of the metal ruts which supported it. The scarf I had just tied was elow this overhang, preventing her working it up towards her shoulders. She was already effectively immobilised.

Bob tied her legs to the chair legs just below knee level with a pair of woollen stockings. We were always very cautious (probably overly so) about possible chafing of skin in our tying up games, so Bob's next move was to remove Jill's shoes and put a pair of thick socks on her feet over her tights, before tying her ankles to the chair legs with another pair of stockings.

While Bob was doing this, I tied Jill's bound wrists down into her lap with a long scarf going over her forearms under the chair seat, where I knotted it.

Bob produced a folded yellow cotton duster in his hands, intending to gag Jill with it. She spoke for the first time since she entered the room, 'No, I don't want a gag.' We pointed out that we had captured her fairly, and it was up to us to decide whether she would be gagged and, besides, what choice did she have? She agreed, but insisted that we had to gag her with something different. We were stumped, so I went to find Bob and Jill's Mum, our ever-helpful source of advice on techniques for tying each other up. When she arrived in Jill's bedroom, she had a selection of possible gags and gave Jill the choice: (if I remember rightly) she offered a cleave gag using a cotton headscarf, a woollen scarf or a sock or Jill could have a handkerchief put in her mouth and a scarf tied over it. Jill disliked cleave gags, so she chose the last option. Her Mum disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and came back with a balled up and moistened handkerchief, which she carefully pushed into Jill's mouth. Her mouth and nose were covered with a woollen scarf, knotted firmly behind her head. Jill's Mum checked that Jill could breath properly. Jill wriggled her head frantically, but the scarf was too firmly tied to slip down.

Resigned to her public humiliation, Jill relaxed slightly in her chair. Soon after that we heard the door bell ring. Jill started at the sound, squirmed a bit in her bonds and tried to say something through her gag. Bob and I withdrew to a vantage point across the landing where we could see downstairs and also see into Jill's room.

Janet had come in by now and said 'hello' to Bob and Jill's Mum. She took off her hat, scarf and woollen poncho then kicked off her outdoor shoes. She knew from previous visits where Jill's bedroom was and went straight there. The squeal of surprise on finding Jill tied up was most satisfying. Bob and I went back to Jill's room to see how events developed.

The events that developed were most interesting, but will have to wait for another posting.

Jon (McA)

Mon Mar 09 10:58:44 Est 1998

Canuck, Exacta, James C., David, JD, Doug, Jon(McA) I really loved your stories. They were all very interesting and well written. I wish I could have been in your place when I was younger: I was already 19 when I was tied up for the first time by a girl (I will eventually post the story in the new College/University Bondage forum). Thanks for all your hard work in posting the stories. I look forward to reading more. And Canuck thanks for maintaining this forum.

Amy, Tina, Ash and Jeff (aka JR): I hope we will get to read your stories soon.

Jeff-JR, you said on Bob's forum (somewhere in January) that you had some stories to tell about your cousin Vicki's slumber party and the time Vicki and a couple of her friends held you captive all day. I'm sure everyone here would really like to hear these stories.

And Ash, I look forward to read how your babysitter Sherry took her revenge on you.

Keep up the good work guys!

MB

Mon Mar 9 14:22

As a teenager (16), my sister (18), would often babysit my brothers and me while dad was a work. Being older, she kept us all from doing anything except chores while she watched TV. One summer day, my sister and I were horseplaying while she was getting ready for her boyfriend to come and pick her up for a date. She started pinching me and grabbing me in masculine places, so I mustered all my strength at one time, pulled her down to the floor and rolled her onto her stomach while she kicked and tried to free herself. Her stockings were lying on her bed, so I grabbed one and began with great urgency to tie her hands behind her. I then grabbed the other stocking and tied her ankels together and using the remaining portion of the stocking, hogtied her effectively on her own bedroom floor. She started screaming that she would tell dad and that I had better let her go, so I got up and went to her dresser and brought back a thick, cloth scarf and gagged her with it. I snugged it tightly behind her head and watched her try with all her 18 year old might to free it from her mouth, but she just slobbered onto the floor. I stood up and looked at my sister for the first time and could see her exposed panties and bra easily. I knelt down and gently brushed her breasts with my hands and snapped her panty waistband a few times to let her know I could do anything I wanted with her in this condition. After a few moments, she stopped struggling and just looked at me in a way I'd not seen before...her eyes sort of pleaded with me to do something...then she heard her boyfriend's car pull up outside and began to beg me to untie her as best she could through her gag. I stood up and laughed at her condition and pushed her behind her bed so she could not be seen from the doorway to her room, then left her alone to face her boyfriend when he arrived. They were in there quite some time before they left on their date and my sister never told our father about the incident.

Cobra
Cobra_44@yahoo.com

Tue Mar 10 20:31:30 Est 1998

I need your advice: do you think I should maintain two separate pages, one for "girls tie up boys" stories and one for "boys tie up girls" stories, or should I merge them into one single forum (simply called stories of childhood bondage games?

When I first started this page, I made it a "girls tie up boys" page only because Bob did not want them on his page, but personally, I like both types of stories. Now that Bob does not seem to want the "boys tie up girls" stories either, I think it would be simpler if I kept them all on the same page. That way, we would not have to jump from one page to another to read Jon-McA stories, for example.

What do you think?

Canuck100

Wed Mar 11 14:49:58 CST 1998

Canuck,
I think you chould keep the two types of bondage separate. I prefer girls tying guys much more than vice-versa. Thanks for a great page.

mike
mimede@usit.net

Wed Mar 11 23:11:49 UTC 1998

Canuck:

I think the way the site is set up should reflect your preference. After all, you chose the topic and you moderate the material posted.

You're the host, we're the guests. You call the shots.

(Personally, I like both kinds of stories, but I guess that's not a surprise to anyone.)

Jon (McA)

Thu Mar 12 02:02:51 PST 1998

Personally, I don't mind bouncing back and forth between the two sites. But Jon McA is right: it's your world, Canuck, we're just visiting, y'know? Whatever is easier for you.

Doug
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Sat Mar 14 02:52

Games with Janet

This story follows my previous posting in which I described how my friend Bob (age 11) and I (age about 10) had successfully ambushed and tied up Bob's sister Jill (age 12). We had arranged to do it on a Friday evening when I was staying overnight with Bob and Jill and Jill's friend Janet was also staying over. My narrative had just got to the point where Janet had arrived and gone into Jill's bedroom, where she found Jill tied to her desk chair with woollen scarves and gagged. Bob and I rushed into the room to see what happened.

Janet removed the scarf over Jill's mouth and nose which was holding her gag in place and was surprised at the wet handkerchief that was immediately spat out. 'Untie me!' yelled Jill, but Janet wanted to inspect the bondage first. She studied the scarves holding Jill from all angles while Jill became more and more irritated. Janet turned to us with a big grin and asked, 'Did you two do this?' We grinned back and nodded. Janet immediately said, 'That looks like fun, tie me up too, please!' Now Bob and I were delighted to oblige, but cautious. We asked her whether she really wanted that and just how thoroughly she wanted to be tied. Her answer was, 'Properly, on a chair, like on TV!' Bob went to fetch the desk chair from his bedroom while I gathered up the scarves we hadn't used on Jill and went in search of some more.

When I got back to Jill's room, Janet was sitting on the chair bolt upright with her feet together and her wrists crossed behind her back to show us what she regarded as the approved position. We accordingly tied her wrists, ankles and knees with scarves. She insisted that she wanted to be tied properly to the chair as well. We tied a scarf around her waist to pin her back in the chair and another over her lap to tie her down, but she was still not as effectively tied as Jill. We tied another scarf around her upper arms and chest, but that didn't really help much. The main problem was the lack of any crossbars between the chair legs and its rather low back. We were still wondering what to do next when Bob and Jill's Mum called us down to tea.

I untied Janet while Bob untied his (still rather grumpy) sister. Janet was delighted to learn of Bob and Jill's Mum's participation in some of the tying up games. She insisted in going down for tea with her hands still tied behind her back. At the tea table, she showed off her tied wrists and requested to be tied to a chair again. Bob and Jill's Mum laughed, but offered to oblige if Bob would fetch some scarves. Janet was accordingly tied to a dining room chair. Her legs were tied to the chair legs at ankle and knee and her body tied to the chair back at waist and chest. Her hands were left free during the meal for obvious reasons.

During the remainder of the evening, at Janet's instigation, we played further tying up games (instead of chess or Monopoly or whatever we would usually do). We spent a happy evening tying each other up. Janet was mostly on the receiving end and she hugely enjoyed it all (and not in any sexual way I suspect, although at the age of 10, I was a little young to be able to tell).

Finally at bed-time, Janet requested that she be put to bed tied up. Jill was not at all sure about this and felt that her Mum should be consulted. Bob and Jill's Mum agreed that Janet being tightly tied up in bed was really not a good idea, but thought something not too constricting might be all right if Janet really wanted it (and Janet would be sleeping in the same room as Jill). Her solution was to put one of her own winter sweaters on Janet over her pyjamas and to 'strait-jacket' her with it by crossing her arms in front and knotting the sleeves, which were far too long for her, behind Janet's back. (I don't think Janet worked out how easy it would actually be to free herself from this arrangement.) She gave Janet a pair of socks to wear to protect her ankles and then tied them with a scarf using a tomfool knot, which would allow her enough slack to shuffle along if she got out of bed, but which she could probably not wriggle free from. Janet wanted to be gagged as well and after some argument settled for just having a scarf tied over her mouth, so she could pretend.

In the morning, when I got up and went downstairs, I found Jill and Janet already in the dining room. Janet was still in her pyjamas and I was astonished to see she was still wearing her improvised strait-jacket. Her ankles had been re-tied more tightly and the scarf which had been tied over her mouth at bed-time had been used to tie her knees, presumably both done by Jill. Janet was enjoying a bowl of breakfast cereal, which was being spooned into her by Jill.

After breakfast, the day settled down to a more conventional Saturday. The four of us children played outside in Bob and Jill's (wildly overgrown) back garden. It was a cold and blustery early spring day, just right for kicking a football around (read soccer ball - we're British remember) and for quiet spells watching the squirrels and other wild creatures in the woods at the bottom of the garden.

When we came in from the garden for lunch, Bob and Jill's Mum inadvertently triggered another escapade. As we trooped into the kitchen, still in our outdoor clothes, she lifted up the edge of Janet's woollen poncho (the very latest fashion in 1966) and looked underneath. 'You're not still tied up then,' she commented with a grin. Janet grinned back.

Over lunch, Janet became quite excited. She pointed out that she could actually have been tied up under her poncho and no-one would have been able to see it. She declared her ambition to return home tied up, in full public view, but with her bonds not visible. She assured us that her mother would probably be shocked but would regard it as a huge joke. The rest of us agreed to escort her home safely.

Bob, Jill and I set to work after lunch to tie Janet up inconspicuously. We thought that all we had to do was to tie Janet's wrists, then put her poncho on. This turned out not to work well. With her hands behind her back, a very obvious bulge of elbows was visible. With her hands tied in front, her shoulders were hunched forward and her posture looked wrong. We consulted Bob and Jill's ever-helpful Mum. She studied the situation carefully, then, after Janet had put her gloves on, tied her wrists together in front of her with a scarf so that they were secure but about six inches apart. She then used a longer scarf across Janet's back, looped round her elbows, pulling them back, and knotted centrally behind her back. Janet's shoulders were thus square and her elbows bent, keeping her hands out of sight and giving her a perfectly natural appearance under the poncho. We also tied her legs together above knee level using a stocking as a hobble, so she could still walk but her stride was impeded. (Her dress was just long enough to cover this.)

We were just about to put Janet's hat and scarf on her when she announced, 'Gag me too!' Given the cold weather and the fact that Janet was quite well muffled up anyway, it was just about reasonable that she should also have her scarf pulled up over her mouth and nose. Bob and Jill's Mum contributed a clean handkerchief, so we cleave gagged Janet with that and arranged her knitted woollen scarf to cover it. She was ready to go, but Jill had disappeared.

Jill came back into the room walking with short steps, obviously having hobbled her own legs the way we had done Janet's. She already had her coat and outdoor shoes on. She was carrying a fake fur muff (quite common in those days) and wearing a matching fake fur hood. The lower part of her face was covered by a scarf which she was wearing under the hood. It became clear that she had gagged herself before putting the scarf on. She said nothing but grunted, mimed bound hands and pointed at the muff. With some difficulty we pushed one coat sleeve and her muff far enough up one arm to apply a trusty tomfool knot to her wrists and then pull them back down again to cover it. We put the cord for the muff over Jill's head and it all looked perfectly normal.

Then we went out to escort Janet home - Bob and I accompanied by two well-tied, but apparently just very warmly-clad girls. Janet was in no position to carry her overnight bag, so I carried it. We walked to the bus stop, quite slowly in view of the girls' hobbles. Bob paid our bus fares and the short ride (four or five stops) passed uneventfully, even if the conversation was a bit one-sided.

As we approached her house, Janet became visibly more excited. Bob rang the doorbell and we waited. When Janet's mother opened the door we all marched in, in silence. As he had agreed previously with Janet, Bob pulled off Janet's hat, scarf and poncho, revealing the bound arms and gag. Janet's mother gasped, then burst out laughing. The rest of us relaxed and Bob and I laughed too. Jill was, of course, not laughing and Janet's mother looked at her quizzically. Jill held up the muff to indicate that her hands were tied too. Janet's mother stared then collapsed with laughter.

We untied Janet. Jill chose to remain tied up for the duration of our short visit and during the journey back to her home. She was obviously uncomfortably hot under the hood and scarf by the time we got back. We pulled her hood and scarf off as soon as we were back into the house, then stared in astonishment - Jill wasn't gagged at all. Jill disliked being gagged, so she had joined in the game by wearing a scarf over her face and just pretending to be gagged, grunting when appropriate and letting us jump to the wrong conclusion.

In retrospect, the period of time described in this and my previous post seem improbably busy with bondage activities. This is how I remember it, as a Friday evening and the following Saturday, but it is possible that my memory has conflated two or three separate incidents. Janet certainly did discover tying up games following our prank on Jill, she certainly did go to bed tied up one night and we certainly escorted her home with her bound arms hidden under a poncho. It is, however, possible that it didn't all happen within 24 hours.

Jon (McA)

I'll post this here. It happened while I was in college, but it wasn't a prank or stunt or Greek thing, so I don't think it would belong in the College forum.

There were 6 of us at this party - one woman and 5 men. The girl was named C__. The men were myself, my roommate V__, his friends N__ and Y__ (whose apartment this was at), and a guy named H__. C__ was really into S&M, B&D, D&S, you name it. She got to live out some of her fantasies that night. For some reason, Y__ had several rolls of parachute cord. I arrived late, but they told me that before I had gotten there, C__ had used one long strand of cord to tie all 4 of the other guys together. When I got there, she was in the mood to tie someone up again. Somehow, she talked me into it. She took just a little piece and went over to me. When someone asked her what she wanted to do, she said, "A___ hasn't been tied up yet, so I'm going to tie him up first." I was sitting in an easy chair. She told me to put my hands out in front of me, and I did. She looped one loop of cord around my hands, saying, "The key to good bondage is a good slip knot," or something to that effect. She then tightened the loop, and wrapped more cord around my crossed wrists, in both directions, finally tightening it.

After tying me up, C__ challenged me to get loose. She said, "Ideally, you would be blindfolded and gagged, to prevent you from using your mouth." After giving me that hint, she went over to my roommate, V__, and did the same to him. After tying his hands, she got some cord and proceeded to hogtie Y__. While this was going on, I was trying to get my hands free, and V__ was discovering that, in an emergency, he could chug a beer bottle even with his hands tied.

I eventually got free, and so did V__. C__ kept Y__ in the hogtie for about an hour, though. N__ got his video camera and recorded his roommate's ordeal. H__ left, I think.

That's about it. That was the first and only time I've ever been tied up.

Akakevich
Akakevich@aol.com

Sat Mar 14 08:35

Jon (McA): thanks for the latest stories. As before, our memories don't quite tally on the details. Here are my comments and some of my version:

I was mortified at the idea of "Janet" (to whom I still send Christmas cards, but who shall remain safely anonymous) finding me tied up and finding that you and my little brother had done it. I was sure that it would be all round the school by about 10:00 a.m. on Monday. The psychology was spot on - I was far more worried about my image than anything else.

You're right to be hesitant about the time scale. I'm fairly sure you've actually mixed up three separate incidents.

The evening Janet found me tied up WAS the one where we played tie-up games with her before and after tea. I don't remember it going on all evening - possibly only about an hour after tea. You're also right about her going to bed tied up in Mum's big blue jumper that night, but do you remember that I engineered that by daring her to do it (I claimed - falsely - that I had gone to be tied up lots of times myself).

I well remember the day we took Janet home tied up under her poncho, but I think that was about six months later on a cold AUTUMN day. One detail that you missed - you're right that I got really hot before we got home, but I think you missed why. I had intended to wear a hanky as a gag with a scarf over it and my hood over the scarf, but I found that I ended up with too much fabric bunched up at the back of my head to do up the hood's popper under my chin. I tried without the gag, but still couldn't do it. Mum lent me her lambswool balaclava, so I wore that (without a gag) covering everything but my eyes, and put my fun-fur hood on over it. (I can't remember why - gag and balaclava without hood would have worked.) That combination would be too hot even below freezing, let alone the 2-3C that day. I couldn't let it be taken off at Janet's house without revealing that I wasn't really gagged, so I just had to bear it till we got back home!

Mum peeking under Janet's poncho to see if she was tied up was Mum's standing joke AFTERWARDS whenever Janet wore her poncho to visit us, not before that incident.

I'm on a nostalgia trip!

Gillian B

Tue Mar 17 11:35:30 Hora estándar de México 1998

When I was about 14 years old, I used to convinvce my cousins to make home movies of adventures. Being that I like being tied up by women, I always plotted the scenes so that one of my cousins, Bea (14 also) was the bad one in the film. We used to plot kidnappings, and normaly me and my other cousins where the victims. One time, I was the one going to be kidnapped, so I walked down a corridor, Bea was waiting for me with a handkerchief and clamped it over my nose and mouth, it was supposed to be chloroform. After I was out, she was to tie me up and gag me. She grabbed a rope and tied my wrists behind my back, but she did it tightly on purpose so that I counld not get loose. Then she went for my ankles and also tighlty bound them. At this point I knew she was not just playing along so I told her I could not get loose with the ropes so tight (I enjoyed every minute of it). She told me I was in no position for complaining, she had previously prepared. She took out of her jacket a big silk scarf and shoved it inside my mouth, then she took some duct tape that she also had with her and covered my lips with it. My other cousins and also my sister started tickling and making fun of me. I was bound and gagged for about 15 minutes that time. I wish time would have frozen when I was that age. It was easy to convince my girl cousins to bind and gag me.
When am I going to read any other stories from the rest of you guys? Postings have been really slow lateley.

Exacta

Wed Mar 18 19:44:49 PST 1998

I guess I was around 12 when one of the neighborhood girls, Linda, then about 11 was "captured" by 4 or 5 of us guys. We decided to tie her up as punishment for some transgression I've long since forgotten. We tied her hands behind her back and laid her on her back. We then tied her ankles together. We decided to see ifher feet were ticklish. She protested mightily as we took off her sneakers and peeled off her socks. And Dammit, she was telling the truth ! Her feet weren't the least bit ticklish. Frustrated, and not to be denied, I pulled up her shirt and lightly ran my ten fingertips all over her exposed midriff. WOW! She went absolutely berserk! Laughing, screaming, begging! Jesus, she had tears in her eyes and was begging me to PLEASE STOP!!! The other girls in the 'hood were lurking around trying to see what horrible torture poor Linda was suffering. We never did get to tie anyone else up after that!

ltd

Thu Mar 19 20:41:39 GMT Standard Time 1998

Jill's Revenge - by "Jill"

It's about time I posted something a bit more substantial. I have to say I'm a bit hesitant about posting this. It's much harder than I expected to put together a coherent story based on thirty-plus-year-old memories. I remember incidents and details well, but crafting them into a story that's both understandable and worth reading was quite difficult. I found I had to build up a framework to hold all the remembered details together almost as you would with a piece of fiction - you need a plot structure to guide the story. The "plot" was the benchmark for including or omitting details. Inevitably, it also showed up gaps. These were mainly events leading up to the main incident of the story and dialogue, which had to be worked around or reconstructed or guessed. (I'm an English teacher, it's my job to worry about things like this - OK?)

I'm even more hesitant because some of the best stories I could tell inevitably overlap or re-iterate Jon (McA)'s stories. Anyway, a good starting point is my revenge on Bob and Jon after their first really good job of tying me up. Jon posted his version of this here on 02/02/98.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 20:43:17 GMT Standard Time 1998

Jill's Revenge (Part 2)

OK, enough navel-gazing - on with the tale.

Background first. Jon and my little brother Bob and I had a history of tie-up games going back some time. Early on, using plastic-coated washing line, we had limited success. I could tie either of the boys quite effectively, but they could never get wrist bindings secure on me. I got quite blasé about this and was happy for them to try out tie-ups on me knowing I could always escape. The turning point was described in Jon's first story on Bob857's page. Jon and Bob tied me to a chair using woolly scarves and I couldn't get free. Worse still, my Mum had helped them. I was betrayed! I felt natural justice demanded compensation and asked Mum to help me get my own back.

My plan, so far as I had one, was simple force - pounce and tie. Mum convinced me that the boys' success against me had been mainly due to planning and care. I've always been impatient with the details of planning anything and just want to get on and do things. (Jon, on the other hand, revels in detail - just look at the level of explanation and rationale in his stories.) Mum and I conceived a basic plan of capturing Bob so that Jon would come into our house to be confronted by his friend already tied up and then meet the same fate.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 20:44:46 GMT Standard Time 1998

Jill's Revenge (Part 3)

Mum suggested a quick tie-up on a chair. We experimented first with dining room chairs, but we found that they were just too big for tying a 10-year-old kid comfortably. (Although I am the oldest of the three of us, my height was mid-way between the boys' heights at that time - handy for trying out ideas.) Bob and I had small school-size chairs in our bedrooms, and Mum and I decided to use those. We tried various positions, but, for speed, settled on hands tied in front and legs tied to front chair legs. and additional bindings round waist and over lap. Again, Mum and I experimented on each other to build speed. Mum and I discovered that even tied to chairs, there was a chance the boys would be able to untie each other. The way the chairs were made meant that we could tie them so that they could free each other, but only if they co-operated and worked on their bindings in the right order. (I wanted to tie them so that escape would be impossible, but Mum wanted to make an escape game out of it.)

We planned our attack for a Saturday morning. Jon and Bob generally watched some television together on a Saturday, usually but not always at our house. It was the middle of winter and the previous week had been quite snowy, which pretty much guaranteed Jon coming to us as we had a much better garden for snowball fights and building snowmen. Mum concealed in the kitchen the necessary scarves and wool socks and stockings we planned to use and moved the chosen chairs down there on the pretext of cleaning them (Bob quite readily believed that piece of tosh). I positioned myself at the attic window with a pair of binoculars (a toy but still useful) to spy on Jon's house, which was just visible from there. I expected Jon to walk, which would take about 15 to 20 minutes by road.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 20:46:00 GMT Standard Time 1998

Jill's Revenge (Part 4)

However, what I saw was Jon getting his bicycle out, it was panic time. I knew he could do the journey in only 7 or 8 minutes. I ran downstairs and yelled at Bob, who was in the sitting room, "Jon's here - let's snowball him". I ran into the kitchen and he ran after me - straight into Mum's arms. He paused just long enough to give us a good head start. I shoved a chair in behind Bob, so he sat down hard, then tied him back to the chair with a long scarf, also pinning his arms to his sides. Meanwhile, Mum had pulled a pair of gloves onto Bob's hands and bound his wrists with one of her black woollen winter stockings (tights for adults were only just beginning to appear at that time) finishing it off with a neat bow. I tied another scarf over Bob's bound wrists and lap and knotted it under the chair seat where he couldn't reach it. Mum tied Bob's ankles to the chair legs with a pair of long football socks and his knees down to the front corners of the chair seat with two short scarves. We had a yellow cotton duster pre-folded ready and I used it to cleave gag Bob. Sweet success. Brother Bob sat stunned in the chair and hadn't even thought about struggling yet.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 20:47:10 GMT Standard Time 1998

Jill's Revenge (Part 5)

Mum and I stood back to admire the results of our efforts. Just then, we heard the side gate into the back garden bang shut and we started on stage two. Mum moved Bob into the middle of the kitchen, facing the scullery door and we stood either side of the door, as flat against the wall as we could. Jon seemed to be taking ages to appear. We heard the back door open and shut and then a rattle as he knocked snow off his bike. We heard him go outside again to ring the bell then shut the door once more. We heard him knock snow off his boots then kick them into the corner of the scullery. As he finally came into the kitchen, Jon's attention was focussed on taking his outdoor clothes off. He had a balaclava on and had a scarf tied over his mouth and nose. He was unzipping his jacket and unwrapping the scarf as he walked in and was several steps into the kitchen before he spotted Bob.

As planned, Jon was too shocked to move. Mum and I were ready for him. Mum whipped off his jacket and scarf while I pushed the second chair in behind him. The tying followed exactly the same order that we had used on Bob. All the time we were doing this, Jon couldn't take his eyes off Bob and didn't even look at Mum or me until I removed his balaclava and Mum gagged him as the last stage of the tying. Mum checked over the boys' bindings carefully, making sure they were secure but not uncomfortable.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 20:48:44 GMT Standard Time 1998

Jill's Revenge (Part 6)

If it had been down to me, that would have been it. They were tied up and I would just have left them for an hour or so to cool off. Mum, on the other hand, felt we could do better. The boys had planned to watch telly together, so we carried first Bob then Jon into the sitting room. (We carried them past my Dad who watched with interest, but didn't turn a hair.) The boys' priorities became obvious - they sat, apparently quite happily, watching the television, making no effort to escape. They clearly weren't going to work it out for themselves, so Mum and I had to tell them they should be able to untie each other. Mum and I were able to position ourselves so we could see the boys' efforts through the gap at the hinge side of the door. Their escape took a surprisingly long time, probably 20 minutes or so, with lots of grunts and mumbles and was huge fun to watch.

So why did I enjoy tying the boys up? I'm not sure. It certainly wasn't sexual or titillating in any way (I was only about 12). I think I just enjoyed it like any other physical game. (I enjoyed tying more than being tied, but being tied up was just part of the game, so I didn't really mind it.) On this occasion, conspiring with Mum and the element of competition were also fun.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 20:50:02 GMT Standard Time 1998

It's all gone a bit quiet around here lately. What's happened to the regular contributors of old?

Canuck - You've still got a loose end from your own first posting - you said you got your revenge on Isabelle, Geneviève, Marie-Ève and Stéphanie. Please tell us what happened.

JD - Did you ever get your revenge on your sisters?

And Canuck, I've got a story that doesn't quite fit your site rules - girl babysitter (me) tied by girl babysitees (and revenge). You run this show - post or no post, you decide.

Gillian B

Thu Mar 19 23:51:16 Est 1998

Great story Gillian! I love reading your tales.

About your question: sure, go ahead, post your "girl babysitter tied by girl babysitees" story here. I look forward to reading it.

Actually I'm thinking about making this site about stories of childhood tie-up games, just as my title at the top of the page says. The only reason why this site is a girl tie up boys story is because there were some excellent stories that Bob would not accept on his site. But now that he does not seem to want any babysitter stories either, I will happily welcome them.

And yes, I will eventually post the sequel to my first story. I'm in the process of writing it (but English is my second language, so it takes me quite a lot of time to structure and write my stories). In the meantime, I hope that the regular contributors will post new stories soon!

Canuck100

Fri Mar 20 18:35:28 UTC+0800 1998

Hey again all. I've been pretty busy of late, but it seems things are staring to pick up again around here. After the great Tripod debacle I wasn't sure anyone was ever going to come back. Thankfully, people have - but I think we could all endeavour to post a bit more often (on whichever site is apllicable)- me included.

I've also come to the conclusion I'm a sucker for a request. So MB, I plan to post the missing story about Sherry and me (my babysitter) by the end of the weekend.

Thanks Canuck for setting up all thses pages!

Ash
doushd@hotmail.com

Fri Mar 20 14:05:29 GMT Standard Time 1998

Hi Canuck!

Thanks for the kind words, but I fear they may be a bit premature on the single substantial posting I've contributed so far!

I had realised that you were likely to be at least bilingual - the names in your stories are not only francophone, but have all the accents in the right places. I take my hat off to you - I find it quite hard enough to polish up a decent piece of prose in my native English. (And my schoolgirl French from 28 years ago isn't remotely up to the standard of your English.)

What was it de Gaulle said? "Vive le Québec libre! Vivent les québecois ligotés!" It was something like that anyway.

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 09:43:59 CST 1998

Sorry for my absence, everyone. I got a little burned out seeing the cross-gender postings that were obviously going on within Bob's page. Those postings make me a little queasy. I'll dare say that it is a bit more obvious that the posters realize on which stories fall into that category. I'll definitely post again if that is what everybody wants. But before I do, I would like to ask a few questions of our esteemed female poster (I am confident of her gender by the manner of her stories). I am very interested in keeping these stories palatable for all readers.

Gillian,
Thank you for your request. You got me thinking about this subject again. I would greatly appreciate your response to a few thoughts that I had, if you would be so willing. Please forgive me if any of the questions seem brazen.

- How hard is it for a woman to read the majority of these stories which are clearly a part of a male's sexual growth? As a woman, you indicated that you just enjoyed playing along, but not in the sense that the men on the page did. Does that bother you?

- Did it ever dawn on you that Jon(McA) or your brother might be enjoying these games more than you? I don't mean to embarrass anyone, but I was never quite sure how Janet (from my story) felt when she became aware of how much fun I found these games to be.

- Having read my only post on Canuck's page (the rest are on Bob's page in the February '98 archive), is there anything that you found offensive in any way? I try to write with a comical style from the child's point of view - mine of course. Infatuation plays a large part in how I saw things back then, but it may sound silly or possibly somewhat degrading now. I do not wish to offend you.

Thank you.

Appreciatively,
JD

P.S. I think I see these stories in the same manner as you and Jon(McA). Being married, I certainly don't need this outlet for sexual reasons. I find it more fascinating to see the quirky side of childhood, how we interac

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com (it has changed since last time)

Fri Mar 20 09:46:24 CST 1998

Sorry, my P.S. got cut off. I'll try it again.

P.S. I think I see these stories in the same manner as you and Jon(McA). Being married, I certainly don't need this outlet for sexual reasons. I find it more fascinating to see the quirky side of childhood, how we interacted as children back then, and how these form a basis for our feelings and needs now. I see these adventures as akin to a child playing with an unloaded gun. The child has no idea on what they are playing with as they innocently toy with it. During these "adventures" I innocently played along, not realizing why they excited me or even wondering why it was so. It was just fun in a deviously exhilarating sort of way.

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Fri Mar 20 13:40:49 CST 1998

Okay Gillian, you requested a story of when I exacted revenge on my sisters. Seek and you shall be rewarded. However, these scenarios were relatively scarce. My sisters hung out together a lot. Not being completely dense, I knew that I had to have two elements present in order to capture one of my sisters: One, there had to be only one of them present; and Two, I had to have the element of surprise. There wasn't enough of an age difference between us to successfully kidnap an unwilling sister without raising the dead from all of the ruckus (I think the dead had their ears to the walls in any case). I was also averse to bringing my friends into the mix. I always thought my friends would think I was a geek for wanting to do such dastardly deeds. Of course, little did I realize that my friends were probably too engrossed to help me anyway as they were busy tying up their little sisters. From the stories on these pages, it must have been an epidemic.

One of the few times I can remember came straight out of the blue. I had been long conditioned by the monsters (my sisters) to never expect to gain revenge following one of their attacks. I was like a rat in a psychology experiment. After getting shocked each time you reach for the food, you start going hungry. My older sister Sam (Samantha) and I were hanging out in the den one day following school. Mom had taken Dana to her soccer game and would be gone for a few hours. It was usually okay with Mom to let us stay alone during the day. I guess she figured that if the house caught on fire, the neighbors would be more likely to see it. To my mom, every danger always revolved around the house catching on fire. It probably didn't help things that I was a pyromaniac in the works. However, after I lit my wastebasket on fire, my derriere was so sore for the next week that I grew quickly out of that stage. Women must love hearing about all these little stages that boys go through when they grow up. Fortunately for parents, they don't all occur at the same time.

So Sam and I are watching the television in the den. Mom had left the wash out to be folded, so it was sitting in a basket on the floor near us. As Sam watched I got this idea...this awful idea...this wonderfully awful idea (sorry Dr. Seuss). So I acted on it and dumped the entire load of laundry on Sam's head. This immediately began a wrestling match in the midst of the laundry, which would have no doubt infuriated mom if she ever had found out. Meanwhile, I am gaining the upper hand as I usually would in a one-on-one situation. I finally manage to pin her down on her stomach. As I sat on her back, I was suddenly struck by another "Grinchy" idea. I pulled one of her arms behind her back. Finding a pillowcase that was lying around from in the laundry, I stuck her arm into the pillowcase. While she was still pinned, wondering what the heck I was doing, I pulled her other arm back and stuffed it into the pillowcase as well. I then pulled the pillowcase as far up her back as I could. Picture this if you can, Sam is lying down on her stomach with her arms effectively pinned behind her. As long as I keep the pillowcase pulled up, she was unable to free her arms. Of course, this only took one hand and little or no effort.
"JD, what are you doing?" Sam asked somewhat frantically.
"Can't get free, huh?"
"You brat!" she hissed at me in a little monster type of way.
Keeping the pillowcase pulled up, I lifted Sam to her feet and marched her into her room, grabbing a few stretched out hankies from the laundry pile.
"Okay, where is it?" I commanded.
"Where's what?"
"Where's the rope you two always seem to have in here?"

I think it was with that question that Sam realized what was coming. She really started to struggle, even throwing herself onto the bed in an effort to get away. I knew that I was past the point of no return. Little sisters don't feel compassion later when you claim to have let them go because they struggled. They only see the attempt, not the result. These two had tied me up for smaller reasons than this, so at least I was going to have some fun before I got a serving of the same dish.
"Let me go!" Sam insisted, as if I would suddenly change my mind. I always thought that was the most useless thing for a damsel to say to her captor. As if the scoundrel would suddenly see the point and say "Okay!"
Holding up the pillowcase with one hand, I fumbled around in a desk drawer for something that I could use. As it happened, the only thing that seemed useful was a roll of masking tape. I don't like tape. It hurts and it doesn't match my idea of a damsel in distress. You never saw Daphne on Scooby Doo all tied up with tape. But then again, Daphne didn't have a kid brother hanging around. It was a temporary fix.
I wrestled Sam down on her stomach again, wrapping the tape around the pillow case at her elbows and then around her torso a few times. I didn't want to use all the tape. Mothers don't look kindly on that type of exploitation of family resources for kidnap jobs.
The tape held. Sam sat there struggling wildly to get free while I did a hard point search of their belongings.
"Dana and me will get you for this!" she exclaimed defiantly.
"Just tell me where the rope is. Otherwise I'll have to go through all your belongings. I wonder if it could be in your diary."
Brothers always learn the weak points. Sam gave me a reluctant glare.
"It's in the closet," she grumbled.
"Where?" I asked realizing that searching their closet was a monumental chore.
"In the shoe box on the left."
I couldn't believe these two actually had a storage area for this stuff. I also couldn't believe that I had coaxed that much cooperation from Sam. Something grievous was in that diary.

I opened the shoebox. In side were all the goodies I would need, plus a healthy supply of Dad's handkerchiefs that I am sure he thought he had lost long ago.
Putting the tape away, and gathering the supplies, I tried to pull Sam off of the bed. She was not going to make this easy. Moving quickly as I was unsure of how long the tape would hold, I threw the supplies in my room and went back to get Sam. Dragging her down the hallway kicking, I was able to get her into my room and onto the bed.
Afraid of letting the cat out of the bag in a manner of speaking, I pulled the tape off and simply replaced it with rope. I was able to pull it sufficiently tight to not hurt her but keep her restrained. Working on the outside of the pillowcase, I was able to push her wrists together and tie another rope tightly around them. Gathering her still kicking legs, I wound a rope around her ankles, effectively immobilizing her. This was fun. Not the same kind of fun as when Janet was involved, but it was gratifying in a different sort of way.
"You are in big trouble now, JD! Your going to beg after we get through with you. That is if you can talk."
She was probably right, but I didn't care at the time. One thing was true, I had enough of her back talk. I don't know what it is about gagging your sister. Maybe it is because they tease you so much. Maybe because I just wanted to get her back for all the times the roles were reversed. Boy, all I know was I really wanted to gag Sam. I grabbed one of the handkerchiefs from the pile on the bed and wadded it up.
"JD, You are a mmmmppph."

I shoved the wadded up kerchief into her open mouth. Taking another handkerchief (prefolded I might add) from my sisters' stash, I pulled it over her mouth and tied it tightly behind her head. Sam just looked at me glaringly.
"I guess I better clean up the mess in the den before Mom comes back," I said as I got up and pushed her flat on the bed.
Checking to see her response, I walked down to the den and hastily threw the clothes back into the basket, trying to put things exactly as they were before. I was halfway down the hall to my bedroom when I hear this bloodcurdling scream.
"Heeeeeeeeelp!"
I instinctively ran to my room, worried that the house may be on fire. I could never explain that to my mom. I rounded the corner to find Sam, having worked her gag free, yelling at the top of her lungs.
"You little brat. You scared the living daylights out of me." I exclaimed, shaking off the jitters.
This had a profound effect on Sam.
"Heeeeeeeeeelp!"

I quickly grabbed another handkerchief and stuffed it into her mouth. I untied the handkerchief that she had loosened from over her mouth and replaced it even more tightly. She was quiet again, but for how long? Thinking quickly (for a thirteen-year-old this is a rare event), I folded another handkerchief in half and tied it over her mouth and nose. I wasn't sure of the effect, but I knew I had seen it done somewhere like that. It seemed to do the trick. Sam had no trouble breathing through the cloth, and the friction of two handkerchiefs kept the one over her mouth in place. She seemed a bit surprised by this. I guess the effectiveness was registering in her mind as it soon became a part of the little monsters' repertoire.

Meanwhile, I am sitting in my room with my tightly bound and gagged sister. There was at least another hour before my mom and Dana would be home. I wasn't about to release Sam now. I finally decided to leave a little surprise for Dana when she walked into her room. This was a safe play. During all of the back and forth escapades with my sisters, we always kept it from my parents ears. I knew I could leave Sam in her room for her sister to find without concern for punishment from my mom. I also knew that I was in for it from the monsters, but nothing was going to change that as of this point. I'd just stick around my parents all evening. They couldn't do a thing in the neutral zone. I could also have become a monk, but that is a lot to comprehend for an adolescent. What I hadn't reckoned on was the fact that our parents were going out for the evening the following day. Thirteen-year-old minds don't work that fast. Payback would come swiftly, but I was unaware of it at the time.

I dragged Sam back into her room and put her in their closet. This was viable until I closed the door and Sam proceeded to kick the walls. I could picture Mom and Dana walking in to this thumping sound.
"What's that?" Mom would say.
"Termites?" I'd offer.
Thinking again, I dragged her over between the girls' beds and just left her there on the floor. Sam struggled for a second, then gave me an angry look from over the white gag covering her face. I turned the radio up a little to cover her "mmmmppphhs", closed the door behind me, and went back to the den to watch television.
About an hour later, my mom and Dana came in. Dana was all excited about the game. I guess she had done pretty well. She asked where Sam was so I told her. I saw Dana disappear into their room and a few minutes later a sneering Sam walked out.
"You're going to get it!"
"Yeah, from me too." Dana had to add, copying her older sister as they walked into the kitchen.
Fortunately for me, the rope was over the pillowcase so Sam showed no rope lines on the wrists on elbows. There was the familiar gag line though, across her face just under her nose. I guess Mom didn't notice because it ended there. The monsters spent a lot of time in their room that evening. Planning my demise I am sure. One can't be to worried about those things, particularly if you don't consider them to be that bad. As I have said earlier, the wait and contemplation is sometimes more fun than the actual event.

JD

Fri Mar 20 13:48:36 CST 1998

Your turn Gillian. Your story sounds intriguing. Please post it in this section, as posts to Canuck's other sections will scroll off after 75 entries. Am I right about that Canuck?

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Fri Mar 20 21:01:27 GMT Standard Time 1998

Hi JD!

[Last minute addition: Ask and ye shall receive indeed! I wrote the following offline in response to your questions to me and when I logged on again, you had already followed it up with another story. I've put dates in to label your 'last' story as being the one you posted on 11/02/98, but some of my comments have been overtaken by events.]

I hope I didn't offend you by posting demands for new stories. It seems to have provoked a positive response anyway (and also from Canuck).

You've raised some serious questions that deserve some serious answers. (I hope other folks will offer thoughts too.) I'm mildly embarrassed at being dubbed "esteemed female poster" - I'll try not to get pompous.

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 21:02:41 GMT Standard Time 1998

I'll try to answer your questions. I don't think they're brazen, but my answers may be circumspect.

JD: How hard is it for a woman to read the majority of these stories which are clearly a part of a male's sexual growth? As a woman, you indicated that you just enjoyed playing along, but not in the sense that the men on the page did. Does that bother you?

I tend to be selective about which stories I read (I at least skim through them all of course). As women go I'm probably fairly hard boiled about juvenile male sexuality. For my sins, I'm an English teacher in a mixed-sex secondary school, so I get to see some fairly immature behaviour. (I'm also the mother of teenagers.) One of my colleagues says that teenage girls mature from the head down while boys do the opposite (may be a quotation). I ignore stories that are exploitative or abusive or generally awash with testosterone.

As to playing along - see my comments about the girls in your stories, who are playing a different game from you, especially in your last (11/02/98) story.

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 21:03:32 GMT Standard Time 1998

JD: Did it ever dawn on you that Jon(McA) or your brother might be enjoying these games more than you? I don't mean to embarrass anyone, but I was never quite sure how Janet (from my story) felt when she became aware of how much fun I found these games to be.

I'm not sure. It's obvious from your stories that you really did like seeing tied-up women. (It's also obvious that the girls were scoring points off you in a quite different way.) I really don't know whether that was a motivation for either of the boys in my case. My family also moved house when I was 14 and I lost contact with Jon and my friend Janet at that point so we were younger than you when we started these games. This is also the mid 1960s I'm talking about and I think we really did mature sexually (or at least find our sexual identities) later in those days.

Also, don't forget we were open about our games. Both my parents were aware of what was going on and were content as long as nobody got hurt or bullied. If it had ever turned sexual things might have been very different. My Mum took part in some of our games and acted as moderator and that probably helped keep it all in the realms of a romp.

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 21:04:13 GMT Standard Time 1998

JD: Having read my only post on Canuck's page (the rest are on Bob's page in the February '98 archive), is there anything that you found offensive in any way? I try to write with a comical style from the child's point of view - mine of course. Infatuation plays a large part in how I saw things back then, but it may sound silly or possibly somewhat degrading now. I do not wish to offend you.

I'll try honest criticism and hope you don't get offended (and I'll try not to go into essay marking mode). In your first story on Bob's page, my only complaint as a female reader is the way the writing style assumes a male reader with a shared interest in tied-up women (for instance the comments to the reader when you are untying Janet). That was your interest and motivation at the time and it's quite valid to be straight about it with your reader but not to assume that the reader shares the interest in the same way.

Your last (11/02/98) posting to this page largely solves this by your telling the story partly *against* yourself (and this is its charm). Your sisters and Janet are all shown knowing what turns you on (possibly not in an entirely sexual way) and are all happily pushing your buttons to see what happens. You on the other hand are left in this dilemma of enjoying the situation while trying to hide elements of your enjoyment and your motivation from the girls.

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 21:05:02 GMT Standard Time 1998

I think your PS sums up a possible child's perspective rather well. My own enjoyment of this site is fairly complex. I retain an interest in tie up games (my adult sexuality is private so no details) which is how I found first Bob's then Canuck's site. I still can't get over the astonishment of reading Jon's first posting to Bob's page and realising it was about me (the names are well enough disguised that I was almost at the end before I realised). I haven't seen Jon for almost 30 years and hadn't thought about those games for a long time. It now has the rosy glow of childhood days long past. I'm recapturing my youth as well as enjoying reading and telling stories. I do have some stories in the pipeline about a slightly older me, which may muddy the waters further.

Lastly, I'm intrigued at your comment about being confident of my gender from the manner of my stories (I think the feminist in me is worried by this). Everything I've posted so far has been a comment on one of Jon's postings or my version of the same events. The content can't be much different - just the perspective. Ignoring my first posting, would you have come to the same conclusion if I had chosen a neutral pen name like GCB or Dr.B (the likes of which I considered). Do please expand the reasoning - I'm really interested.

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 21:05:48 GMT Standard Time 1998

And finally ...

I'll polish up my next story and post it soon - I wasn't expecting this to develop into a race with JD!

Gillian B

Fri Mar 20 21:11:39 CST 1998

Gillian,
And a race you shall have... he said teasingly. Actually, I have very little time to contribute regularly, but I will do my best when asked. I am sure it is the same with you.
I do greatly appreciate your openness. It is very refreshing to hear a woman's point of view. Ah, how am I confident that you are a woman? Let's check the evidence. Yes, the fact that you said you were a female was by far the greatest clue. So starting with population of posters that claim to be a woman, is it possible to diagnose which are actually women? This is a much easier question to answer than determining the gender of a randomly chosen unidentified poster. Of course, the overwhelming number of posters are men, by gender but not always by name.
Back to the problem. If you carefully read the stories from "women", you will see a divergence in the manner by which the story is told. The framing of the tale by a male going by a woman's name tends to follow "facts" that are integral to a male's enjoyment of the story. Realize, of course, that the men that are writing under the pretense of being a woman may not be representative of men as a whole. In effect, the differentiation is between men that say they are women and women that say they are women. True women tend to be very factual, not intertwining parts of the story that appeal to a transgender's sexual needs. You said yourself that the girls in my story "were playing a much different game" than I was. Based on this theory alone, I believe I could properly predict the gender of over 95% of the individuals that claim to be women. Now that these men are aware of my approach, I'm sure that percentage would drop.

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Fri Mar 20 21:14:28 CST 1998

Your question may have been phrased as "Given I was unaware of any gender claims, could I have diagnosed your gender?" I am unsure of that response, as any answer I give now would be biased. However, most men are more emotionally and sexually connected to their stories. You pointed that out very clearly in your critique of my original story (and I'm sure my last story as well). By the way, the critique was taken very seriously, but not with malice as you feared. You will have to forgive my latest entry, as I am afraid it fell more in line with the first story than with the latter. It is much more difficult to write a story from the point of view you prefer when I represent the manipulator and not the manipulatee. I am referring of course to the fact that I was the one extracting the revenge. I will do my best to honor your excellent suggestions on subsequent posts.
Finally, to break the seriousness of this conversation, I don't doubt that you still enjoy these tie-up games. My wife and I also have our fun. I think a playful sex life is healthy. Now where is that next story, dang it... he says smiling to himself.

Best Wishes,
JD

P.S. Your quote that "teenage girls mature from the head down while boys do the opposite" is priceless and no doubt true most of the time. On a less serious note, you are certainly paying your penance for your sins if you are instructing at a middle-school, much less as an English teacher. ;-)

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Sat Mar 21 10:58:19 UTC 1998

Greetings one and all.

Just back from a week on business in Belfast (tense city right now), and it's nice to see some more postings have turned up while I was away.

Wonderful story from Gillian! As usual, some of my memories don't quite line up with hers, but it was fun (and very, very strange) to read a story with me in it as character; thanks for the trip down memory lane. Was I really as dozy as that then? (Worrying thought: am I still?)

I'm glad that to see that JD has re-surfaced. I enjoyed JD's victory over Samantha (it was about time he came out ahead in one of his own stories).

I really wasn't expecting to find serious intellectual material here, like the stuff that JD and Gillian have been posting. It's very interesting too. I'll pull up a psychiatrist's couch and add my two pence worth if I may.

Gillian's point about whether the boys and girls are playing the same game is interesting. I think that, most of the time Jill, Bob and I were playing the same game. (This is getting confusing: 'Jill' is 'Gillian B' as a child for purposes of this explanation.) There was always a slight difference in that, very early on, Bob and I developed an interest in bondage technique. That sounds a bit grandiose, what we did was to consciously look out for examples in comics or on TV, and often compared notes. We tried out ideas on each other or on Jill. There was an element of boys versus girls in that Bob and I often worked up an idea then applied it to tying up Jill if it looked promising. It was, nevertheless, all a game and all three possible two-against-one pairings took place. (Bob and Jill's Mum sometimes helped out the one playing single handed.) Given that Bob and I were clearly developing a (pre-sexual) taste for tied-up women at an early age, there might have been more differentiation in the games had our games gone on longer. (Bob and Jill moved away when I was 12.)

Jon (McA)

Sat Mar 21 10:59:17 UTC 1998

... Continued

I wouldn't be honest if I left an impression that our tying games were always innocent and idyllic. There were a few occasions when elements of bullying or coercion crept in, or when we just misjudged what was acceptable. (The evening we tied up Bob and Jill's Mum stands out as the most monumental cock-up in that respect.) Bob and Jill's Mum was amazingly tolerant and broad minded and generally steered us off any rocks our behaviour was leading to. (My Mum, by contrast, was unhappy about the idea of kids who liked to tie each other up and, while she didn't actually forbid our games, her attitude drove them underground, in that they usually took place in Bob and Jill's house or garden.)

I equally wouldn't be honest if I left the impression that this was a major part of our lives. Bob and I spent a lot of time together, just doing boys' things. We went for long bike rides in the country (safe roads in those days), poked around in the woods behind their house, did a bit of (illegal) fishing and watched a lot of TV. Bob also taught me the rudiments of chess. A month or so could pass without anybody getting tied up, then we would go through a phase of playing lots of tying games (usually triggered now I think about it by Bob or me seeing somebody tied up in a comic or on TV).

So why do I like these stories. It's certainly not for gratification (I'm happily married, thank you). I think I'm with JD on this; it's the sidelight on childhood games and relationships that's so fascinating. The analogy of the unloaded gun is apt (if a little un-nerving for a Brit); there are definitely elements of my adult personality now that I can see being moulded in things we did then. (And I'll go no further, my adult life is private.)

It might be a while before I have time to get another story ready to go, but I should find time to post the odd comment.

Jon (McA)

Sat Mar 21 11:33:07 GMT Standard Time 1998

Hello again Jon! Thanks for nice words. I'll have to think about some of your thoughts about our tie-up games - but what you say rings true.

Now for another story. This is out of sequence in date from some other stories I have considered posting. However, I asked Canuck about its subject specifically AND it's ready now AND JD threw down a gauntlet in his last posting. It's a bit different from most previous postings - it has an all-female cast, so there should be lots for the amateur psychologists to discuss afterwards.

(Yes I know I've stolen the title from Agatha Christie, but I just couldn't resist m'Lud.)

Cultural note: Does everyone know that a vicar is a Church of England parish priest? Well, you do now.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:34:17 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 1)

This story dates from later than my escapades with my brother Bob and his friend Jon. My family moved house when I was 14 and we lost contact with Jon and my schoolfriend Janet. I'm not sure who was the driving force behind our games, but after the move, the chemistry was different and tying up games largely stopped. However, this is a story from that time which is worth telling.

I was 16 at the time, so I was old enough to hawk my services as a babysitter round the neighbourhood. I was also newly mobile, with my old (new to me) but trusty Lambretta motor scooter. Shortly before Christmas 1970 I was booked by the local vicar's wife. It's a busy time of year for a church minister and they needed me to babysit on three or four evenings in the run up to Christmas.

I knew the vicar's children slightly, I'll call them Martha and Mary. They were 12 year old twin girls in the first year of the grammar school that I went to. They had a reputation for being noisy and a bit wild but despite that were generally very well thought of. I was expecting an easy evening with nice kids and a good book to read after they were in bed. Wrong.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:34:56 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 2)

I was invited to go straight from school and join the family for tea. The vicar and his wife left shortly afterwards. I enjoyed getting to know the girls, chatting about this and that. I can't remember now how the subject came up, but I remember one of the girls asking me if I had ever been tied up. I told them that when I was younger I had played games like "cowboys and indians" or "cops and robbers" and sometimes had been tied up then. They wanted to know if it hurt being tied up. I told them that it didn't if it was done carefully. The discussion went on like this for some time. I felt uneasy; I didn't really want to tell them that I had played lots of tie up games and sometimes really enjoyed tying other kids up. They asked me to tie them up so they could find out what it was like, but I refused. Finally they asked if I would let them try tying me up. I said "no" at first, but they pleaded. It was their idea and I wasn't really encouraging them, so I finally agreed.

Again the details fail me, but I or they chose a wooden dining chair with arms as a suitable place for tying me up. They disappeared upstairs for a few minutes and came back with a collection of scraps of different kinds of rope in short lengths. They started with my wrists which they tied to the arms of the chair. The rope was wrapped round quite loosely and tied rather amateurishly with a granny knot. More rope followed tying my ankles to the chair legs and my elbows to the chair arms, also tied fairly loosely. All the tying was done quite slowly and tentatively with lots of discussion and suggestions between the girls while I sat in silence watching them.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:35:53 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 3)

Quite suddenly the pace and the mood changed. Martha, the more dominant twin, said, "Now!" and they returned to my wrist bindings. One on each side of me, working in unison, they undid the granny knots, jerked the ropes tight and tied them with firm reef knots. All this happened too quickly for me to do anything about it. Once my wrists were secure, they tightened my ankle and elbow bindings and added more ropes tying my legs to the chair at knee level. Mary left the room and returned with more supplies of rope, again obviously salvaged but all in quite long lengths. Ropes went round my waist and over my lap. More ropes went over my shoulders and round my chest. It was becoming obvious that these two knew a thing or two about tying. I was protesting loudly by now, but Martha told me that I had been given the chance to tie them up and that I had agreed to being tied by them. This was all true, but I had still been completely taken in by their act.

The last stage of my humiliation was a gag using an old-fashioned thick linen hand towels. Finally they blindfolded me with my own school scarf. They had made a good job of tying me and there was no way I could free myself. I didn't like the pressure of the rope bindings especially on my bare wrists and my ankles which were only protected by my tights, but wasn't actually in pain and if I didn't struggle too much nothing would chafe badly. Now they had made their point, I expected the girls to untie me. I had been tied up at about 9.00p.m. and sometime about 9.30 the girls announced their bed time and went upstairs. I was still tied up (and desperate for the loo) when the vicar and his wife came back well after 11.00.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:37:24 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 4)

As soon as they came in the vicar and his wife set to work untying me. They were concerned but not nearly as shocked as I expected. It turned out that I was not the first babysitter their children had tied up. The girls had made a habit of this and having tied up three or four previous babysitters, the vicar's wife now found it difficult to get anyone else to do the job. Despite increasingly severe punishment every time they did this, the twins seemed to feel that it was worth the trouble they got into.

I was stiff and a bit wobbly after being tied up tightly for so long and it was nearly midnight before I was ready to face the ride home on my scooter. Before I left, I told the vicar's wife that the girls had at first invited me to tie them up. I added (with some venom) that I would be very happy to have my revenge by taking them up on that, but only if she agreed. She broke out in a big grin and said that it might just teach the twins a lesson. We arranged my next visit for the Friday afternoon of the following week. I liaised with her by phone before then to work out details.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:38:12 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 5)

On Fridays, school finished at 3.30, instead of 4.00. I left school promptly and went straight to the vicarage on my scooter. The girls had to get home by bus, giving me nearly half an hour's head start. When I got to the vicarage, I changed out of my school uniform into jeans and a jumper. I unpacked a selection of woolly scarves and socks (my preferred tying up equipment - more comfortable, no rope marks) which I had brought with me and added them to the pile already looked out by the vicar's wife.

I explained that I intended to tie the twins to dining chairs as they had tied me, but using scarves and socks. The vicar's wife agreed with my plan but she insisted that nothing was going to happen to her girls that she wasn't fully aware of, so would I demonstrate by tying her up first please. I was slightly taken aback, but agreed. I will describe the tying in more detail later, but she brought a dining chair into the kitchen where we were waiting for the twins and I tied her to it, binding her at wrists, elbows, ankles, knees and waist. I pointed out that protecting wrists and ankles was also a good idea. Also at her insistence, I gagged her for a few minutes with a tea towel. She approved all aspects of the tie up.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:39:02 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 6)

By the time the girls got home, I had ungagged their mother but was still untying her. The girls stopped dead at the back door as they came in and looked at us and then at each other. While I finished freeing her, the vicar's wife reminded the girls that they had asked me to tie them up when I was babysitting them and told them that I had come back to do just that. She added that she had just tried out my tying and that it was OK by her. They protested, but she insisted that their request still stood. I told the girls that I would be more gentle with them than they had been with me and asked their mother to get them into more comfortable clothes for their ordeal. She marched the twins upstairs while I took the chair and the intended bindings into the sitting room and fetched a second chair.

When they returned a few minutes later the girls had jeans and thick sweaters on. They were also wearing woolly mittens and had thick socks pulled up over their jeans to protect their wrists and ankles from chafing. I was astonished to see that they had already been cleave gagged with neatly folded white handkerchiefs. The vicar's wife explained that she thought she should show them she fully supported me. The girls were looking rather alarmed by this stage.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:39:43 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 7)

Under threat from the vicar's wife the girls co-operated fully and obediently sat down on the chairs. We tossed a coin for which of them would be tied first. It turned out to be Mary.

I started with Mary's wrists, tying each one down to a chair arm with a short scarf wound round wrist and woodwork about three times then knotted. I checked them to make sure they were secure, then asked Mary if they hurt at all. She shook her head. I tied her ankles back to the chair legs next using long socks. I used more socks to tie her arms back to the sides of the chair back just above her elbows and her legs to the chair legs just below her knees. Finally I tied a long scarf round her waist and the back of the chair. "See if you can get free," I said to her. She struggled a bit then shook her head.

Martha had been watching carefully and was looking less scared than she had been. I tied her up in exactly the same way as her sister. We didn't blindfold them as we felt that might be too frightening for them.

It was by now about 4.30. The vicar's wife and I moved the twins' chairs so that they couldn't see the television. She and I then settled down with cups of tea while we kept an eye on our prisoners and watched the remaining children's television which the girls were missing that afternoon (it must have been "Crackerjack", which rather dates me). When children's television finished at 5.50, we untied the girls. The twins were quiet and thoughtful. They genuinely hadn't realised how distressing being tied up could be and were suitably apologetic. I felt both vindicated and satisfactorily avenged.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:40:32 GMT Standard Time 1998

Murder at the Vicarage (Part 8)

Subsequent babysitting evenings at the vicarage were quite profitable as the vicar's wife insisted on doubling my rates. They mostly passed uneventfully, although on one occasion the twins spent the evening tying each other to a chair with scarves and socks to see if they could work out an escape.

Postscript

Well that's it. You wouldn't get away with that today - instant gutter press coverage no doubt.

Given that I appear both as victim and avenger - and indeed as manipulator and "manipulatee" (I'm not sure that's a real word JD) I would love to read JD's views on the tale following on from our recent discussion.

By the way, I must be incredibly gullible - this has actually happened to me twice. The other occasion I was tied up by the babysat is also postable - I'll write it up soon.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 11:42:17 GMT Standard Time 1998

Dear Canuck,

I'm sorry to moan but I think you will need to move some of the older postings to an archive. The time to reload between sections of posting is getting a bit long - especially as I have to do an extra reload to get my ISP's web cache up to date each time.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 10:34:15 CST 1998

Gillian,
You are showing your true spots again. You know us Americans, we invent words as we need them. I promise to not criticize you for your use of the letter "s" when it should be "z" if you let me invent words at will. ;-) (I hope you read web cues like the sign to the left)
Actually, in my line of work, there often is no word to describe specific situations - so we invent them, publish them, and they become part of our language. I just figured I can do the same here ... he says haughtily to himself while trying not to laugh.
Back to the subject at hand. Your tale was well spun. It appears as if you ran into the same hornet's nest that occupied my house for a number of years (or should I say monster's lair). I think boys are most devious, with regard to our topic, when left by themselves. Girls, on the other hand, tend to breed this behaviour (English spelling, isn't it) when gathered in small mobs.
I still feel that the frame of your story is a clear indication of the gender of the writer. Again, your narrative is very matter-of-fact, embellishing the story only with details that are necessary for the reader to picture the proceedings. There is a complete absence of material that would connote a sexual connection with the events, much less an overtly libidinous description needed by a transgender. On a different note, your technical writing skills are unmatched on this page. But we should expect as much from an expert, shouldn't we?
You should publish the results of this page into a book. It would make fascinating reading, but I'm sure that buyers would feel a tad bit uncomfortable at the cashier.

Jon,
I really enjoyed your rejoinder to the dialogue between Gillian and me. I agree that being of a much younger age, the attraction to these games must have been different in nature. A large degree of how these games are seen is based on the age of the beholder. A boy going through puberty is likely to connect anything with

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Sat Mar 21 10:35:39 CST 1998

A boy going through puberty is likely to connect anything with sex, which is why we have so many weirdoes running around today. :-)
I don't want you to think, although I am sure you did not intend to, that some of us were constantly concocting some plan to tie up all the girls. My experiences also tended to fade in and out, based greatly on how busy I was. You know what they say about an idle mind.

Best Wishes to Both of You,
JD

P.S. I hope you both didn't mind a little ribbing from us in the Colonies. After all, you have those fine British comedies and all we have is Bill Clinton.

P.P.S Dang it. One of these days I'll figure out how long of a sequence I can squeeze in one post. So sorry.

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Sat Mar 21 15:39:28 PST 1998

JD: To avoid my posts getting cut off, I usually edit my stories into segments that are about 20 to 25 lines in length. Anything slightly over this number appears to be sliced off by the posting mechanism. Now if only I can learn how to post my stories without having a line
cut off like this. :)

Gillian B: I loved your babysitting story! It's refreshing to have a female point of view on this page. Please keep posting.
I promise to post another of my stories soon, possibly by next week.
Doug

Doug
***
***

Sat Mar 21 22:37:30 GMT Standard Time 1998

JD - apologies!

I've just read your latest posting and re-read what I said. I don't believe the way I ticked you off for "manipulatee" like that. You're right - it was pure schoolmarm. You must picure me drawing myself up to my full height of 5'2" and pushing my spectacles up my nose as I said it.

As to inventing words - Humpty Dumpty in "Through the Looking Glass" said it all. Grammar is descriptive rather than prescriptive after all. (On the other hand Noah Webster has a lot to answer for in the spelling department :o)

Thanks for your compliments about my writing. It's probably down to practice rather than professional skill - I've written and published an awful lot over the years. I must make the effort to punctuate properly though. (Have you noticed that Jon's punctuation is *perfect* - he even uses semicolons properly, not these sloppy dashes I use when I'm in a hurry.)

I know the answer to how much you can post at once - Jon worked it out and told me. It's 2000 characters INCLUDING the length of the date that gets popped in at the top. (He said it was quite obvious how it worked if I went View then Document Source on my browser, but it might as well be in Martian as far as I'm concerned.)

Gillian B

Sat Mar 21 22:40:58 GMT Standard Time 1998

And thank you too Doug - only just spotted your posting.

I think my next offering will have to wait a few days - wild rush until end of term on Thursday!

Gillian B

Sun Mar 22 16:31:19 UTC 1998

There still seems to be some confusion about the maximum size for a single post to this page and how best to post something too big to send in one go. I thought some tips might be useful. The information passed on by Gillian B is basically correct, but could do with some expansion. I use a PC, running Windows 95 so the detailed advice may not be applicable to all

The way the posting mechanism works is this:

1: When you first load the page, a small piece of JavaScript grabs the date from your web browser, which, in turn, gets it from your computer's system clock. The length of this item is dependent on the browser you use and your locality. Some are very long, such as Exacta's, which includes 'Hora estándar de México' as the time zone, and some are very short, such as mine, just 'UTC'. The JavaScript also appends two 'newline' characters to the end of the date.

2: When you click the 'Post it' button, another piece of JavaScript prepends the date onto the contents of the 'Comments:' box and sends it all to Tripod.

3: Tripod's 'guestbook' CGI script (the program that does all the work) seems to chop what it receives to a fixed maximum length, which appears to be 2000 characters. (I worked this length out just by clipboarding obviously-truncated posts into MS Word and doing a word count on them.)

Jon (McA)

Sun Mar 22 16:32:17 UTC 1998

... Continued

The way I deal with this is to do careful preparation off-line. I write my stories using MS Word (any other word processor would do as well) so I can spell check it as I go. It also allows me to work out where the breaks between posting chunks should be so that they don't exceed the 2000 character ceiling (allowing for up to about 55 as a maximum for the date). I do this by starting at the top of my story then seeing how many whole paragraphs I can get in the next bit, using the word count function. Then I put in a line that says 'Part 2' and work out how far from there will fit, and so on. Once I have finally saved my story, I re-open it in Notepad (which will show up any characters that shouldn't be there as black blocks) and cut-and-paste it from Notepad into the form on this page a chunk at a time. The title and part number I put at the top of each chunk is there as my guide for where to cut and paste, not just to look neat!

I discussed this approach with Gillian B, and her recent posts look as though she has adopted it or does something similar. (I hope Gillian doesn't tell me off for 'prepend' and for using clipboard as a verb!)

Jon (McA)

Mon Mar 23 00:35:28 UTC+0800 1998

Hey gang! Well, I really don't know if I can follow up the intricate postings that have appeared since my last visit here, but since a person is only as good as their word, here's my promised final babysitter story (And I would also like to apologize to Gillian, John and JD in advance for any sloppy punctuation, spelling mistakes and general grammatical errors that will probably escape my roving eye. While I would like to take the time to write my posts up using Word, it is 1:00am in the morning now and I have a ridiculous amount of work to get done tommorrow!)

Alright, excuses aside, let me begin.

It didn't take long for Sherry to make her intentions clear on the night in question. I would like to say it was a dark and stormy night (purely to slip in a phrase as hackneyed as a split patella and make it sound like I pay attention to such trivial details), but I really have no recollection of what the weather was like. Mum and dad were not going to be back until late that night, and Sherry - wearing her usual jacket and jeans and looking quite spectacular to her not-so-secret-admirer - used that point to begin taunting me.

"If they're not going to be back until late, that means I have plenty of time for my revenge," she said (or words to that effect).

"Revenge?" I was all innocent.

"Yeah, revenge. For tying me up so I couldn't get loose last time I was here."

(For those of you who have forgotten my last postings on Bob's page - in February I think - this story takes place between the two where I bound Sherry.)

"But you said I could tie you up."

"I said you could tie my hands, not bind me and gag me so I was completely helpess."

"Same thing," I mumbeld.

"Do you want to do this the hard way or the easy way?"

By way of answer, I trotted off to get the "stuff". Secretly, I was excited, and although I knew it was partly the tying up thing, it was also because Sherry was involved. Messing around with my cousins could never compare with this!

When I returned Sherry instructed me to cross my hands behind my back and I did so. She tied them with a bath robe cord and then set about binding my feet. That done, she connected the two, leaving me in a hog-tie.

"Hey!" I said.

"Do you want to be gagged as well?" she threatened, and although the answer was a definite "yes", I shook my head "no". I didn't want Sherry to think I was a total freak.

"Alright, I'm going to watch TV for ten minutes. See if you can get free of that. If you can't I've got much worse planned for you."

She left me and I began to struggle, desperately.
Although I didn't manage to free myself completely, I did get my feet loose of the cord binding them and thereby escape from my hog-tie. So when Sherry came back, all she found was a discarded cord lying on the floor.

I had run off and hidden in my mum and dad's room, with my hands still bound securely behind my back.

Sherry hunted me for the next five minutes or so, threatening me with all manner of horrible things if I didn't come out. Eventually she found me, and proceeded to drag me out from under my parent's bed. Then, half carrying me, she "guided" me into the living room and proceeded to bind me in a second hog-tie - but this one was about a hundred times tighter than the first! All of a sudden, I knew I was going nowhere fast. And although some of the fun evaporated for me at that point (after all, the cords were pretty tight!), I tried to savour every moment I spent as Sherry's captive.

Basically, for the rest of the night I was cleave gagged and blindfolded with scarves, and kept tight bound with cords. Sherry would occasionally loosen a cord here, or change my gag a little there (I spent a good half hour with a packed mouth after I made too much noise through my realtively ineffective cleave gag) - and all the while she just watched TV.

When I was eventually released I didn't really know what to expect (again). But Sherry just hepled me pack up the stuff and hinted that maybe more games would be played next time. (She was right of course. Either the very next time she sat for me, or the time after that, was the occassion of her chair tie).

Those were definitely the days . . .

Thanks folks. I'll post a slightly more modern story if anyone's interested next time.

Ash
doushd@hotmail.com

Sun Mar 22 21:25:03 UTC 1998

Welcome back Ash!

I can't really speak for Gillian or JD, but I'm quite clear that a story is a story. Polished prose is nice, but its the content that counts. Don't be intimidated by us pedants.

I really do use the process I outlined for posting long stories, but that's mainly because I tend to work the text up over a few days and, whatever I'm doing, I usually have Word open on my PC.

Short notes like this get hacked straight in on the browser!

Jon (McA)

Sun Mar 22 21:43:05 UTC 1998

What I actually logged on to say was, 'nice story, Ash'; but I got sidetracked!

Jon (McA)

Sun Mar 22 22:35:43 GMT Standard Time 1998

I wasn't going to post for a few days, but I have to tell you about the "presents" I received this morning.

First you need to know that today is Mothering Sunday in Britain (aka Mothers' Day - I know that happens later in the USA but we've pinched the name). Secondly you need to know that today is also my birthday (44 - to save you scrabbling through my previous postings to work it out). I think this may be the only time they coincide in my lifetime.

While I was getting dressed this morning, I could hear a a lot of giggling and stage whispers going on downstairs. I guessed that this was probably cards and presents for Mum being organised so I waited a decent interval before going down.

I went into the dining room - our usual place for cards and presents. I found the expected goodies on the table but sat on either side of it were my two children (14 and 16) both tied and gagged. The tying was fairly mininal, just football socks round ankles and wrists and hankies as gags. (The kids went through a phase of tying each other up a few years back, but haven't done so recently.) I was torn between shock and amusement.

.../

Gillian B

Sun Mar 22 22:40:01 GMT Standard Time 1998

/...

I pulled my daughter's gag down and asked her what this was all about. It turns out that my Mum put them up to this. She had told my daughter that I had played tie up games with my brother when I was little and suggested this as a good practical joke for my birthday. Amusement was winning over shock and, for once, I managed to do some quick thinking on my feet. I had a look at their wrist bindings. My son's wrists were tied much more tightly than my daughter's (who could probably have pulled her hands free) and I deduced that she had tied his wrists behind his back, then he had tied hers with his own already tied - and made a surprisingly good job of it. I started to untie the knot on my daughter's wrist binding than paused and said, "No, I'll unwrap my presents later." Then I jerked the binding tight and retied the knot. She got as far as an outraged "Mum!" before I pulled her gag back up.

I went into the kitchen, trying very hard not to have a fit of the giggles as I went. I banged about in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and getting breakfast things out, while all the time keeping an ear out for the children. There was a lot of grunting and muffled discussion going on (the gags weren't very effective) and eventually a loud bang - which I went to investigate. The bang turned out to be a chair being kicked over, but no-one was hurt and they had manoeuvred themselves back-to-back on the floor and were trying to get each other loose. "Breakfast in five minutes," I said helpfully.

Less than five minutes later, I was confronted in the kitchen by two untied but distinctly miffed children. A family hug and a good laugh together cleared the air. My husband showed up after this and was baffled by the whole thing - a reasonable response, I suppose. I shall have to have words with my Mum though.

Gillian B

Sun Mar 22 22:41:09 GMT Standard Time 1998

Canuck - thanks for the hard work on tidying the site! It's much quicker to post now.

Hi Ash! - great story!

Gillian B

Sun Mar 22 18:20:26 PST 1998

I enjoyed your story, Ash. And thank you, Jon McA, for explaining the posting process in detail. Your process is more foolproof. Canuck, the site looks great! Nice job.
Doug

Doug
***
***

Sun Mar 22 21:55:10 CST 1998

Jon,
I couldn't agree more. Stories are stories. You need look no further than the bungled use of the English language in my posts to see my position. Thanks for clearing up any misconceptions.
Gillian, Jon and I were simply chewing the fat about the deeper aspects of this mutual hobby. It is interesting but not necessary to consider the psychology of these events. Readers will have to pardon our far-off ventures into never-never land.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GILLIAN!!!!

You have me by a decade, but I am closing on you percentage wise. By the way, your mom has got to be the spunkiest lady I have ever heard of. Good for her!

Last but not least, thanks to those that suggested posting techniques. I, like Jon, write off-line and post by copying from one program to another. It helps in polishing the story a little.

Best Wishes to All,
JD

JD
jdm006@hotmail.com

Mon Mar 23 21:17:18 GMT Standard Time 1998

Hi folks!

Just time to pick up a few loose ends.

Ash - I agree with Jon and JD. It's the *content* of the stories that matters. I happen to enjoy the *process* of writing too, but it's not everybody's cup of tea, nor would I necessarily wish it to be so. Even in the world of literature, there have been plenty of good storytellers who weren't particularly polished writers. Conan Doyle and Rudyard Kipling leap to mind.

(As long as nobody minds us doing it, I also really enjoy the level of discussion that JD, Jon and I have been having lately.)

Jon - Thanks for posting the detailed guide to multi-part story posting - and for being so discreet about my obvious failure to understand. Jon's right, I do use the same basic method as he does, except that I put the section breaks in while I'm still developing the story, so I can see where the discontinuities the reader sees will come.

JD - Thanks for greetings (a few birthdays more till I get my telegram from the Queen). I don't know if it was deliberate bait, but I refuse to be tempted to make a connection between your confessed "bungled use of the English language" and your nationality :o) The phrase most often used by people who meet my Mum is "she's quite a lady" - and you can read anything you like into that. She may be 75, but she's hard to keep up with!

Gillian B

Tue Mar 24 10:23:39 CST 1998

Gillian,
I have another serious question to ask you. This is directly related to the fact that you are a mother of two teenagers. My wife and I are expecting our first child soon and it often focuses my thoughts on the rearing of children. Given, the subject of this discussion page, what is your opinion on the handling of games between children where they tie each other up? Before you answer, I want to make it perfectly clear that I have no intention of ever being involved in these games (not even to the extent that your Mum played along). Children's games are innocent (mostly), adult games are not. This is obviously a real delicate matter. But, given that children are playing, and as you have stated from first hand experience, they go through the phase of tying each other up, how should one handle it? Should it be heavily discouraged (and driven underground as Jon so aptly put) or should you simply monitor it to keep it from drifting into areas that are inappropriate?
I want everyone to understand that this question is strictly a query on child-rearing techniques. There are a lot of deranged people that are cruising the web. Canuck, if responses from some people make this discussion inappropriate to your site, please delete it.

Gillian, if you feel uncomfortable with discussing this on the web, please ignore this post. I do believe that there are many readers that would benefit from a mature discussion of tangential topics such as this. At the very least, it may get them thinking about their own behavior.

Thank you for your insights,
JD

P.S. I would never bait you with references to our form of the English language. ;-) We, in the Colonies, have simply modified it to our personal taste.

JD

Wed Mar 25 00:06:40 GMT Standard Time 1998

JD - I don't think I can even begin to answer your question as you have put it. The best I can do is set out a few principles which we (ie my husband and I) have applied.

I will deliberately keep this short and fairly general as it's so far off topic, so serious and (let's face it) deeply personal. Canuck - apply your judgement here, I won't be offended if you delete this.

First, congratulations on the impeding arrival. Secondly, congratulations on being so serious about your responsibilities - bringing up a child is (IMO) the probably the hardest task you will ever undertake (and the most rewarding).

We have taken quite a strict moral stance in bringing up our children in terms of being honest, truthful, obedient towards us (and other carers, such as teachers), respectful of the rights of others, sensitive and caring towards their peers. We have not always succeeded or been properly consistent in guiding our kids. Equally, they have not always wanted to be honest, truthful etc. But, on the whole, we've got the message across and, so far, the kids have adopted it.

We have also been open with them that while we are a family together, my husband and I also have an intimate element of our relationship which is strictly private. (The kids understanding of this has evolved as they have grown, from knowing that we need time alone together, to an awareness of sexual relations and now to a more adult understanding of adult relationships.)

.../

Gillian B

Wed Mar 25 00:07:37 GMT Standard Time 1998

/...

Now, within that context, tie-up games between the kids have no particularly special status in my reckoning. My two kids went through a phase when they were 9 and 11 (I think). I didn't want to forbid them, because I didn't think it that important - and anyway I wouldn't have been able to make a consistent case to them for forbidding it in terms of the moral principles we were upholding. I concentrated on the safety, behavioural and relationship aspects. I pointed out that ropes round necks were dangerous, I made it clear that it was their responsibility to see that neither they nor anyone else got hurt and I made it clear that bullying would lead to deep trouble. The only follow-up I had to do was when my daughter sustained a nasty rope burn and I instituted a rule that no ropes go on bare skin. They grew out of it within (I think) six months. (I enjoyed tie-ups for years - you can't tell.)

I never personally participated my the kids' tie up games, but I didn't participate directly in many things they did. My Mum, on the other hand, did participate in lots of our play - sometimes we wished she didn't. It was therefore reasonable for her also to play some part in tie-up games. That said, she was involved far more than I would ever have been comfortable doing in her place.

.../

Gillian B

Wed Mar 25 00:08:18 GMT Standard Time 1998

/...

The only tie-up incident that I'm aware of since the kids were 9 and 11 was last Sunday, which I reported briefly on this page. Now my daughter is 16 - not old enough to drive a car, but old enough to marry in this country. My son is 14, therefore less mature. My Mum had told them about my love of tie-up games when I was little and put them up to this practical joke on me. Now, nothing was said, but I'm sure they were both aware of the sexual overtones of what they did - and I'm sure that they knew I knew that and that my discomfort was part of the joke. If you recall, I turned the tables on them by tightening my daughter's bindings. I knew that also added to the unspoken ambiguity of the situation. I would certainly not have done that to my son, and even given that my daughter is almost a grown woman, I think I was close to the edge of acceptable behaviour in doing what I did. I got away with it - it stayed a game and no-one got hurt emotionally.

A lot of what I've said is to do with parent-child honesty and trust (no hidden agendas, encouraging them not to hide from us). My Mum is also one of my closest friends and I want my children to be able to relate to me that way as they become adults. I can only dream of being a perfect Mum - adequate is beyond me at times - but if I have passed on my values in life and if I can win their friendship as adults, then I will be content.

JD - I haven't answered the question - I wouldn't presume to, but I hope I've given you food for thought. I think my husband and I can claim to have been consistent and true to ourselves, but you may well disagree with our moral starting point.

.../

Gillian B

Wed Mar 25 00:08:55 GMT Standard Time 1998

/...

HEAVY STUFF! Sorry folks, but JD's question deserved the most serious response I could muster.

Canuck - again, feel free to delete this if you wish. Everybody - I don't think this is an appropriate place to continue this particular line of discussion and I won't post any further thoughts of mine on it.

Gillian B

Wed Mar 25 00:10:18 GMT Standard Time 1998

JD - point taken about modifying English to suit Colonial tastes. If you really like it like that, who am I to criticize? :o)

Gillian B

Tue Mar 24 20:27:11 CST 1998

Gillian,
Sorry if I put you out on that last question. I didn't mean to drag this forum into areas that are off limits. My apologies!
I appreciate your honesty and frankness. The subject is not one that you will ever see discussed in any other forum, so the opportunity presented itself for some serious insights from someone that has gone through what many of us will eventually.
Having said that, I agree that Canuck should probably delete these posts. It is too off-topic. However, I appreciated the chance to listen and learn from others.

Thank you,
JD

P.S. I hope you know that I am only kidding when I joke about proper English and our use in the U.S.. I do not want to offend you.

JD

Wednesday, 25-Mar-1998 00:43:56 EST

Hello, I just found this site and I think it's great. It reminded me of a few experiences I had as teen. I figured I would share one with you. Me and my friends used to tie my sister up a lot. She always said she would get even with me. But I didn't believe her. She never did things like that. Or so I thought.

One Sunday night, when I was 16 and my sister (Michelle) was 18, I was sitting in the living room watching TV. My mom was in the kitchen on the phone. At about 9:00 pm, Michelle came home. Her boyfriend John(19) was with her, and also her friend Tracy (18). They all went upstairs to her room. About 10 minutes later, Michelle came to the steps and asked me to come upstairs for a minute.

Without suspecting what was about to happen, I did. I followed her into her room, and I walked through the door, John grabbed me from behind,and Tracy shut the door.

"Whats going on" I asked.

Michele looked at me and said "I told you I would get you back some day". When I saw her and Tracy pick up some rope, I knew just what was going on.

"Let me go John",I yelled.

But he held me tight. My mom, who must have heard me yell that, asked what was going on from the bottom of the stairs.

"Mom,H..." was all I got out before John clamped his hand over my mouth.

With Tracy's help, they pulled me over to the back side of Michelle's bedroom.

"Keep him quiet", Michelle whispered as she opened the door.

"Nuthing mom, we're just fooling around", she said, and then closed the door. I tried to get free, but John and Tracy held me tight.

Then Michelle came over with the rope, and a rool of silver tape. I started to struggle harder, and temporarily broke free, but fell down in the process. Before I had a chance to get up, John sat down on top of me and used his hands to hold my arms down. I tried to yell again, but this time I was silenced by Tracy, as she clamped her hand tightly over my mouth.

While they held me down, Michelle tied my feet together at the ankles with some of the rope.

Mark
lightoller14@hotmail.com

Wednesday, 25-Mar-1998 01:18:49 EST

(continued)

Now I was starting to realize I might not get out of this. Michelle knelt down next to Tracy and stuffed a sock in my mouth. Tracy kept her hand clamped over my mouth, so I could'nt spit the sock out while Michelle pulled off a piece of tape.

"I've always wanted to do this to you" she said as she placed the piece of tape over my mouth. She then put a longer piece over the first one, this one wrapping around my neck.

"That will keep you quiet", she said.

After that they proceeded to finish tying me up, my hands behind my back, and, after sitting me up, they tied me to her bed leg.

"Well, that was fun, but I gotta get home", John said.

My sister walked him out, but told Tracy to keep an eye on me. While my sister was outside with John, Tracy started to tease me by tickling me. And then I heard my mom outside in the hall, and I tried to make noise. But my mouth was securly taped, and Tracy sat on my legs so I couldn't kick them up and down.

"Sshhh", she said, placing a finger to her lips.

It was about right then that I started to get a feeling like I never had before. Tracy was very pretty, and I always had a crush on her. Now that it was just her keeping me tied and gagged, I started to get turned on. I pretended that she had kiddnapped me and was holding me prisoner. I struggled in my ropes again, but with no luck (although now I was only pretending to want to get free).

"Ssshhh"she said again. "You wouldn't want to disturb your mom would you?"

Mark
lightoller14@hotmail.com

Wednesday, 25-Mar-1998 01:42:06 EST

(continued)

Then she moved forward so that she was sitting on my thighs. I really started to get excited. She unbuttened her shirt and opened it to show me her bare breasts. I couldn't believe this was happening. But then we heard Michelle come back in the house, so she buttened her shirt and got up. Talk about a dissapointment. But anyway, my sister called Tracy downstairs and they left me tied up for about another 30 minutes before untying me.

"You better not even be mad", Michelle said. "I told you I would get you back some day".

"I'm not, I deserved that". I said, trying not to let her know that in the end I actually enjoyed it. That was when I realized that I loved being tied up. Unfortunately, I was never tied up by my sister or Tracy again. But I will always remember that time.

Well,thats it. Hope you enjoyed.

Mark
lightoller14@hotmail.com

Sat Mar 28 12:21:13 GMT Standard Time 1998

Hi Folks!

JD - Let me set the record straight. I have no problems at all with American English (or Oz, NZ, SA or whatever). Diversity and synergy in language is a good thing. I was enjoying striking a pose as one defending the bastions of true English against the barbarian hordes. I guess my attempts at irony were so understated as to be invisible!

Let me also record that my two resourceful children, whose practical joke I hi-jacked last Sunday, got their own back on me. What they did is off topic, but the score is even.

A-Man - Welcome, but it looks like your story got chopped by the notorious posting limit - see previous postings from Jon(McA) and others on this subject.

Anyway, I promised another story soon - here it is.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:23:33 GMT Standard Time 1998

Prologue

In the PS to my story about the vicar's twin daughters, I mentioned that I had been tied up by babysitting charges on another occasion. I think that makes me gullible or at least accident-prone. (To be tied up once may be regarded as misfortune; for it to happen twice looks like carelessness, as Lady Bracknell nearly said.)

Chronologically, this is about the latest story I can offer that fits into the category of "childhood". It's a boys-tie-girl, girl-ties-boys, boys-tie-girl-again story - so it's as well Canuck has abolished his sections for different categories of story.

To get an idea of the balance of strength between me and the boys, you probably need a better picture of me physically. Previous posts - both mine and Jon's - have mentioned that I'm not very tall. The fact is that I never made it past 5'2". My figure is usually euphemistically termed "fuller" or "ample" or "comfortable" - and has got more so with advancing age! So the me in this story is a short, round but quite fit and strong 18 year old. (Think of Velma in Scooby-Doo and you won't be far wrong - although the spectacles didn't come until my 20s.)

Another item of background you will need to know is my "party trick" of that era. My interest in tie-up games in my early teens had led to a wider interest in stage magic and escapology. I never became very good at it, but the interest had become known in the family. The party trick was simply to challenge someone to tie my wrists with rope. Most people don't have the first idea how to tie someone up effectively, so there was almost never a problem stealing some slack in the rope as I was tied and then effecting a "miracle" escape.

(I've noticed that lots of detail seems to be appreciated, so I've put more work into that aspect of the story than I usually do.)

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:24:10 GMT Standard Time 1998

Peter and Paul (Part 1)

During the summer of 1972, when I was 18, had just left school and was about to start University, I did a week's "house-sitting" for an aunt, while she and her husband took a child-free holiday. The house-sitting involved looking after a gorgeous little estate house in the English countryside. It also included looking after my two cousins, whom I will call Peter (age 10) and Paul (12). Peter and Paul were a bit rowdy but good fun and - tomboy that I was - I liked spending time with them.

Peter and Paul announced one afternoon that they wanted to see my escape trick. Paul held a out length of rope and I agreed - I like showing off. I asked whether they wanted my hands in front or behind. "Behind," they said, so I held out my hands behind my back. Instead of rope, Peter promptly snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. These were toy handcuffs, but quite sturdy with cast metal cuffs and a metal chain linking them. The handcuffs were designed to be openable with a key or by pressing a large button on the end of each cuff. However, the boys had gummed the buttons up with glue to make their cops and robbers games more realistic. The boys next wrapped a long length of rope round my arms and body and despite my struggles, they got it quite tight. Working together, they were able to tie my ankles and knees as well. "Now get out of that," they said. If my arms had not been tied, I could have pulled hard enough on the cuffs to force one the chain links open, but as it was, I was helpless. They watched my struggles for about ten minutes and then wandered off and left me. They finally released me about an hour later. As I was wearing a short sleeved blouse and sawn-off jeans, I had an interesting collection of rope marks to show for my efforts. I had never been tied up tightly with rope before and it hurt on unprotected skin.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:24:51 GMT Standard Time 1998

Peter and Paul (Part 2)

I swore that I would have my revenge. I decided that I would tie them both up the following afternoon. My preferred tying up equipment was woolly scarves, both for comfort and for ease of use. The problem was that I was in a strange house in the middle of summer. I carried out some surreptitious rifling of cupboards that evening and the next morning and amassed a few scarves and socks. I also found my aunt's "rag bag" which contained some useful old nylon tights and stockings.

To have any chance of success, I had to tackle the boys separately. I'm quite strong, but not very big, so while I was sure I could overpower either of them, I would not be able to take both on together (as their attack on me proved). The diversion required was easy, I just sent Paul off on his bicycle to buy provisions in the village, giving me at least half an hour to deal with Peter. I had concealed my bondage arsenal in the kitchen and simply called out Peter's name to get him there too. I had prepared a "tom-fool" knot in a short scarf already. As Peter came into the kitchen, I grabbed him, wrestled him to the floor, forced his hands behind his back and through the loops of the knot, then tied the ends of the scarf off securely. I next heaved him onto an upright wooden kitchen chair and tied a long scarf round his waist and the chair back. He was making quite a lot of noise by then, but there was no-one to overhear us. I tied his ankles and knees to the chair legs with nylon stockings and tights. I wanted him to be tied really securely, so I tied his wrist binding to the chair back with a stocking and used a pair of long socks to tie his elbows to the sides of the chair back. Finally, I pushed a handkerchief into his mouth and secured it by cleave gagging him with a stocking. I didn't want to risk any possibility of Peter alerting Paul (even though he was gagged) so I dragged the chair into another room.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:25:28 GMT Standard Time 1998

Peter and Paul (Part 3)

Paul was about as tall as me but skinny and I hoped that my weight would prevail. I planned a lightning attack as soon as Paul returned to the kitchen. It worked well. I waited just outside the kitchen until Paul had come in and put the groceries down then rushed him. I was only just strong enough to get him on the floor, but once I had him down, I was able to tie his wrists behind his back with a scarf. He kicked and squirmed more than Peter had and it was only with difficulty I lifted him onto a chair and then held him down while I tied a scarf round his waist. Binding his legs to the chair with nylon stockings was a bit easier after that. I tied his wrist binding to the back of the chair with a stocking and his elbows to the sides of the chair back with socks just as I had Peter. I then methodically re-checked all the bindings to make sure that they were tight after all the struggling. Lastly, I gagged Paul the same way I had done Peter.

Once Paul was secure, I dragged Peter's chair back into the kitchen and left the two of them to study each other's predicaments while I did some housework. I pointed out to them how much more comfortable the scarves were that I had used than the ropes they used.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:26:03 GMT Standard Time 1998

Peter and Paul (Part 4)

I returned to the kitchen about half an hour later and found that the boys had manoeuvred their chairs back-to-back and Paul was working away at Peter's wrist bindings. I was astonished to discover that he had already got the stocking off and was now working on the scarf securing Peter's wrists. Another five minutes or so and he would have got them free. I quickly separated the chairs and re-tied Peter's wrists and re-secured them to the chair back with the stocking. After some thought, I moved the chairs so that they were facing each other. There was some stretch in the stockings tying the boys' legs so I was able to position their feet outside the chair legs and then push the chairs hard together. I hitched the adjacent chair legs together with string. "Now get out of that," I said and left them on their own again for another hour or so.

When I returned to the kitchen, I found the boys still securely tied, but both had managed to work their gags loose and spit out the handkerchiefs. I suspected that some plotting had been going on while I was away. I now had a tiger by the tail; I feared the consequences of freeing the boys, especially as they has been planning, but couldn't really leave them tied up much longer. I decided to untie Peter first as I judged Paul to be the greater threat and didn't want to have him loose while I was occupied in untying Peter. Once I had freed Peter and turned my attention to Paul, Peter disappeared out of the kitchen. I deliberately left Paul's wrist binding until last to give myself the best chance of speedy withdrawal.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:26:34 GMT Standard Time 1998

Peter and Paul (Part 5)

It turned out that the boys had planned too well for me. Peter had been arming himself while I was untying Paul. I had also made the mistake of having my back to the kitchen door as I was attending to Paul's wrists. The moment I had freed Paul, Peter pounced and Paul turned to help him. They held me down by sitting on me and managed to tie my wrists behind my back with a scarf. After a few minutes they had also tied my ankles and knees and tied one of the long scarves tightly round my arms and chest just above elbow level and below my bust line. A gag came next; it was a balled up handkerchief like I used on them but held in place with a scarf tied tightly over my mouth and nose. I was effectively helpless by this stage, so I didn't put up more than a token struggle - I thought I would do better saving my strength for an escape attempt later.

Early seventies' winter fashion for women featured some enormous scarves and my aunt had a prize example which I hadn't found in my search but which Peter had now brought to the kitchen. It must have been about ten feet long and over a foot wide (and purple). The boys started at my ankles and wrapped this thing tightly round my legs until I was cocooned from ankle to waist.

They had also found a huge triangular knitted shawl. They propped me up into a sitting position then draped the shawl round my shoulders. It was so big that the point at the back was on the floor. They pulled the ends tight, crossing them over on my chest, passing them below my elbows and my tied wrists and knotted them at waist level behind my back. The ends of the shawl were tied on top of the point at the back, so I was also tightly wrapped from waist to neck.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:27:11 GMT Standard Time 1998

Peter and Paul (Part 6)

They finished me off with my own "scooter hood". (I've no idea what the proper name for this is - it's a combined scarf and woolly hat which I wore for riding my motor scooter in pre-helmet days.) It came down to eyebrow level and they knotted it under my chin and tucked the ends into the top of the shawl.

Remember, this was the summer, probably early August, with the temperature in the mid 20's Centigrade (that would be 70-something Fahrenheit). I was completely covered except for my eyes and was sweltering under all those wrappings. Peter and Paul reminded me how comfortable scarves were, wished me good luck in my escape act then disappeared outside. I realised that I probably could free myself and started work. The more I worked away at my bindings, the hotter I got. My wrists were not tightly tied but with my arms pinned to my sides with a scarf, and hands and elbows constricted by the shawl, it was difficult to move enough to free them. I eventually did manage to work my hands free. It still took about a quarter of an hour after that to get everything else off me. By the time I was completely free, I was a sweat-soaked and exhausted heap on the kitchen floor.

I wisely called a truce with the boys for the remainder of my stay.

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 12:27:42 GMT Standard Time 1998

Postscript

I was caught fair and square by the boys' handcuff trick (OK my willingness to show off helped). From there on my main problem was my own lack of foresight. I don't know why it never occurred to me that my revenge on them would be counter-revenged.

The astute reader will also have noticed a certain weakness in tactics on my part. I invented the handkerchief and nylon stocking gag the spur of the moment - no forward planning, no thought of trying it out on myself first to see if it actually worked (it doesn't). Equally, when I was faced with releasing the boys safely, I should obviously (with hindsight) have freed Peter's hands and made a run for it while they sorted themselves out - I could at least have chosen my own territory for any follow up.

To be fair, the boys were making it up as they went along too, otherwise I wouldn't have managed that final escape on my own. What annoys me still is that with several years of tie up games behind me and my interest in escapology I should have been able to manage everything so much better!

Gillian B

Sat Mar 28 00:17:42 Eastern Standard Time 1998

Great Page! Even though my experience with bondage as an adolescent is not nearly as impressive as all of the great stories I have read , I feel I owe something to all those who shared their stories. Thanks Gillian, for reminding me of the post limit and thank Jon the solution to the problem. So here goes.

At the time I was 15. My parents were going away for the weekend, leaving friday and coming back Sunday night. They had called a babysitter, which I found mortifying beyond belief. To sooth my injured pride my parents assured me the sitter was for the house and that they just wanted to make sure there was someone at the house who could handle any problem that might arise. I reluctantly agreed (as if I had a choice) and Rachel arrived around 4:00pm Friday afternoon.

Rachel had cleared it in advance that her friend, Erin, could stay over Friday night as long as she left sometime Saturday. Rachel and Erin were both 18 at the time. Rachel was tall, thin and blond. Erin was shorter and had that cuteness of a girl who looks younger than her actual age. Now I was very tall for my age, but also very thin.

I liked video games, as most kids my age did, I was satisfied to play for extremely long hours. After eating supper Rachel and Erin decided to go to the movie store to get a movie. They asked me if there was any movie in particular that I wished to see. I haad long been interested in bondage at the time, but being an only child in the middle of nowhere I had no experience. I requested a movie i've long since forgotten, but I knew it had a damsel in distress scene. They promised to try their best to find it and left.

About an hour later they returned with the movie I requested (YES!), and a love story (the name escapes me). It was decided that we would watch my movie first. I had little interest in the movie until the part where the damsel was left bound and gagged with a bomb waiting to go off. I also noticed both the girls became a little more attentive during this scene. I said nothing and the movie ended.

A-Man

Sat Mar 28 12:01:18 Eastern Standard Time 1998

It was time for us to watch the movie that Rachel and Erin had chosen. It was a love story so I had little to no interest in it. I soon became very bored and I expressed this by making many comments on the movie. After five minutes if this, Rachel turned and said "if you don’t be quiet, we’ll make you be quiet." I got up and got a blanket from my room and curled up on the couch with it.

I was then quiet for about ten minutes, until it came to the big scene where the man was professing his undying love for the woman. I started to make loud snoring noises as if the whole thing was putting me to sleep. I had rolled over on my side away from the television and Rachel and Erin, but I heard one of the girls get up and leave the room.

A few minutes later whomever had left returned. I had my back to them, so I could not say how they coordinated their attack, but all of a sudden Rachel jumped onto the couch and sat on my shoulders. She told Erin to sit on my legs and together they started to tie my wrists. I was dazed and started to struggle only after my wrists were secured and this was of no help. They proceeded to tie my ankles with yellow rope I recognized from my father’s workroom. They tied my knees and then looped a long piece around my chest three times.

"Are you going to be quiet now?" Rachel asked.

Mustering all my adolescent attitude I replied "just try and make me."

With a comical sigh of resignation, Rachel signaled to Erin who sat me up. Now Rachel was behind me and Erin was sitting in front. I closed my mouth as tightly as I could to make gagging me impossible, but it seemed they were prepared for anything. Erin pinched the mid-thigh area of my leg and I responded with a yelp. As soon as I opened my mouth, Rachel stuffed a wool scarf into my mouth, silencing my protests.

A-Man

Sat Mar 28 13:59:48 Eastern Standard Time 1998

"I don’t think that’s going to be enough" Erin said, and Rachel stuffed a second scarf into my mouth.

Erin held her hand over my mouth until Rachel tied a third scarf around my mouth, tightly cleave-gagging me. Finally, Rachel tied a fourth scarf around my head, covering my face from nose to mouth.

Rachel stood up and said "I’ll go get some more stuff, you stay here and use what’s left." Erin nodded and rolled me over onto my stomach. She used the remaining rope to tie my elbows. I started to groan as she did this, as I did not have the flexibility to allow for this. She finished tying the rope and then gave me a few good whacks on the bottom and told me to settle down. I gave an indignant mmpphh as Rachel returned carrying several long strips of cloth from a box in our linen closet. She took a long, black strip and tied it around my eyes, completely blinding me. I heard them get up and leave the livingroom.

I sat to struggle and in the process I fell off the couch onto my stomach. I continued to struggle and mmpph for awhile until they came back. With Rachel holding my legs and Erin holding my legs, they carried me to the guest room where Rachel and Erin would sleep.

They dropped on the bed and Erin said to Rachel "he’s still wiggling to much." To this Rachel replied "let’s hogtie him." So using the strips of cloth, they tied my hands until they almost touched my feet. I mmpphh during the hogtie, again because of my lack of flexibility. Again the girls left me alone.

I started to wiggle around more carefully this time because I didn’t want to fall off the bed. I had slightly loosened the hogtie when Rachel and Erin returned. Rachel said "haven’t you gotten loose yet?" Rachel and Erin both laughed as I mmpphhed in reply. Thankfully, they undid the hogtie and carried me back to the livingroom.

They sat me down in the middle of the couch and removed the blindfold. Rachel was sitting on my left and Erin was on my right.

"This time were are going to watch the movie without any interruptions. Do you have any problems with that?"

The ropes had absorbed all my defiance and I mmpphhed my agreement.

"That’s a good boy" Erin said as she gave me a pat on the head.

The next two hours were long and uncomfortable, but because I was still excited about my first real bondage experience and also because Erin rested her head on my shoulder, I didn’t mind.

The movie ended and Rachel asked Erin "I guess we should untie him now".

"Maybe just one more hour" Erin said with a grin. I let out a disapproving mmpphh and Rachel and Erin giggled.

As Rachel bent down to start untying my legs Erin said "you go get ready for bed, I’ll untie him." Rachel shrugged and left me alone with Erin. She slowly started to untie the knots around my ankles, all the while looking up at me with a contented look on her face.

"Don’t tell Rachel, but I really enjoyed tying you up a lot more then she did."

She undid my knees, the rope around my chest and then my elbows. Then she stopped and said "while I’ve still got you like this I’ll have just a bit more fun." She rolled me over onto my stomach and gave my feet a severe tickling. She gave me a number of whacks on the bottom again and then started to undo my gag. She untied the scarf around my head and untied the cleave-gag. I allowed her to pull out the packing instead of spitting it out because I wasn’t in a hurry for this to end. She slowly untied my wrists and helped me to my feet.

Rachel returned and we all sat on the couch and talked about how we had felt during the capture, the torture and the release. Both Rachel and Erin said they wouldn’t ever hesitate and I swore revenge. I got it, but hat is another story. The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. Erin and I started a long relationship after that weekend. It ended on good, albeit sad, terms when Erin moved away.

Well that’s the first of my bondage experiences. I had a few later on, but that’s for another day. Again I would like to comment on how wonderful all the stories here are. If any of the veterans have any suggestions of criticisms for me, I would welcome them.

A-Man

Tue Mar 31 13:45:37 1998

What a great idea for a site!

I'm glad to find that there are so many others like myself who enjoy the playful spice that bondage has to offer; only not in those terrible ways that many websites and othere organizations depict it. I always liked it simple, ever since I can remember. Some rope, and a cleave gag were always enough to satisfy me. The leather, chains, whips, etc etc just got too out of hand and sometimes downright disgusting!

I sometimes wonder if the fetish isn't genetic, because even before I liked girls sexually, I loved to watch people (not just girls!) get tied up on tv or movies...probably as far back as when I was 4 years old...maybe earlier, but it's hard to say how much I remember that far back.

Ben
Ben24@wenet.net

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