Not being one to join the Boy Scouts, there wasn’t a chance of me being taught the correct way to tie knots, and I doubt if the Boy Scouts have ever included binding and gagging among their Merit badge requirements. (If they ever go to co-ed troops they should start one) 

So I went to where I already hung out a lot, the library. Since my early grade school days, the librarians had been kind enough to let me check out books that supposedly were far above my ability to understand. I still remember the book on carnivorous plants that I read over and over while in the fourth grade. I forget in which Tarzan movie he thought with a huge man-eating plant, I think it was the one with Lex Barker. Sorry for rambling. 

So books on knots. Well what I found at first didn’t help. Lots of stuff on tying fishing lines, which I doubted I could learn, and didn’t think would come in handy. And there was stuff on making braids and sennits. I did dream of women woven into thick nets of complex braided and knotted mats, big, thick net things. But it would take me forever to learn to do that. And Jemima and Karen were unlikely to sit still long enough for me to entrap them into a fiendish net. 

I found one finally; sitting on a cart holding recently returned books. "The Handbook of Knots" by Des Pawson. You can still get it in finer bookstores nationwide. It has a chapter headed "Binding Knots." As the Mighty Marvel fan club folks used to say, "Nuff Said." 

I had to practice on something, so I chose me. 

Before I tell you how that went, let me talk about my after school job. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I worked at Bolton’s Hardware store. A True Value place. Lots of interesting things in a hardware store. If you stopped in I could have showed you the spool of rope, and chain and the metal clamps you use on radiator hoses. And what I really came to like those plastic pull clamps. They came in all sizes, now you see something like them used when cops are throwing a bunch of anti-abortion demonstrators in jail. 

I got a discount from working there, which meant what I could sneak out . I knew they wouldn’t miss fifty-five feet of three-sixteenth rope, so I carried it home. To me it was the right size to use, I could handle the cord easy enough to work out how the knots should flow through one another. From the book I learned a lot about rope parts, the standing end and the working end. Then there’s the Bight, the loop, the crossing turn. You get into estimating rope length, working with long len

Good stories Rocky. Keep posting! And Curt, welcome back! I enjoyed your story. Zorro! Where have you been? 
 

Outside forces have caused a delay in posting my next story, which features Becca as our captor, but I shall post that ASAP. 
 

I'd also like to thank Diane for posting the exact meeting times for the chat room. I've been having some computer problems which prevent me from joining all of you there. But I will remedy that situation soon. 
 

Let me take this moment to say that my site has been updated for Novemeber. Chapter Four of my Cynthia story is up, along with more of my childhood stories in the archives, as well as an updated picture gallery. 

 My story involves my eleven year old son (at the time)who had a friend of a similar age staying during a school holiday. During some particularly wet weather they became very restless and noisy which lead me to suggest that they found a quiet way of amusing themselves (little realising the turn of events!).After some time in another room I had started to relax when suddenly the door burst open with my son and his friend burst in with their toy water pistols and with my son wearing an old headdress from a long forgotten Indian outfit.They had also found some old clothesline and dressing gown belts which would be used shortly. At this point I joined in the game by holding my hands up in surrender I was now there captive. The boys asked me to sit down on a high backed chair and to put my hands behind the chair. Immediately one of the belts was quickly secured around my wrists, and then they proceeded to wrap the rope around my body and the chair successfully securing me to the chair. More of the belts were used to tie my knees and ankles. 

 At this time I felt I should enquire about how the game would proceed my enquiry was met by a comment in their best Red Indian "White woman must wait she has entered Red indian lands must burn at the stake" at this point I realised I should just play along with the fun. the two boys retired to another room for what i assumed was a meeting to discuss their game and acted as a reminder to me that at least temorarily they were in control. As I found out it was a chance for them to prepare the hallway and staircase which because of the wet weather would act as the stake. 

Another reminder of the temporary transfer of power involved another little part of the game which I noticed crops up in many of the stories. They came back into the room and solemnly announced that before my burning I would have to admit to entering the lands or else face torture. Playing along and being curious I refused to admit the offence whereupon another chair was placed in front of me and my legs lifted onto it. I of course knew what was coming and played along with the boys as they removed my slippers and proceeded to tickle my hosed feet. just a few minutes were sufficient before I admitted the offence. My fate being sealed I was now released and lead to the bottom of the stairway where ropes were already attached and I was secured to the post. I have to admit the boys had been very inventive. A final flourish meant that some newspapers were placed around my stockinged feet. 

Afetr some ten minutes I was released by my now sheepish looking son, not wishing to embarrass him I acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. They both went to another room and played a board game. At a later date I did discuss the event with my son who kept saying it was just a spur of the moment game. Also I have heard from a few other mothers that I am not the only one who has spent an afternoon at the stake. 

I used my bedroom for a practice site. After about a week and a half, I could tie my legs, getting the cross length and the frapping to where I couldn’t pull myself free. I kicked and pulled as best I could, and my ropes held. So I hoped if I ever got another shot at tying Jemima, and if Karen came around her too, I could do it right. 

After I had the ropes figured out I started work on the gags. I still had the duct tape so right away I peeled off a strip and put it over my lips. After working my mouth around for maybe fifteen seconds, it was loose enough for me to sing "Happy Birthday." I tried wrapping it around my head, now that made it tighter and tougher to speak clearly, but still I was pretty loud, and it hurt like heck to pull it out of my hair. Don’t try it at your place. 

I hunted up two other potential gags; a terry cloth belt from a robe of mine, and a red bandana that I had, for what reason I can’t remember. 

I started with the bandana. I tied it around my head like you’ve seen it on TV a hundred times. Just like I did on Jemima. I just could not get it tight enough to hold my lips in place. I let it slide into my mouth. "Arguf this is nov very good gag ieffer," so I took it off and picked up the cloth belt. 

It was long enough to wrap around my head four times, and it pressed my tongue down and kept my mouth open. But after I chewed on it I could pretty well say what I wanted. A peanut butter sandwich eaten whole would have been tougher to talk through. 

Next I wadded the bandana up and stuck in it my mouth. " Momuph marge," that worked pretty good. Of course I could push it out with my tongue, so I tied the belt around my head. "Un mink harg getr harmup marss." I thought that worked pretty well. 

I untied the belt and pulled the cloth out of my mouth. Yeech! It was sloppy with salvia. I dropped it on the floor and tried one more gag. 

I took the belt and started putting knots in the middle of it. I kept going until I had a pretty- good- sized ball of terry cloth going. I put that in my mouth, then pulled the ends of the belt back and started tying at the back of my head. Because of the ball knot I had less slack to work with, so when I worked on the binding knot, the gag was tighter. It pulled the sides of my mouth back. I looked at myself in the mirror. Man did I look goofy. Most of my teeth were showing, my lips were kind of fat looking, and I had to wipe my mouth where spit was coming out. 

I tried talking. "Herg mulp. Mum geff lupen firtump." Not that bad a gag. I pulled the knot in back tighter; the gag was hurting, a little. "Mu ampuh mum." 

"Max are you all right? What are you doing in there?" 

Holy Moly its mom. She’s outside my bedroom door. Get this dang thing off. I tugged at the gag but was on tight. I plucked at the knot behind by head and could hear her touch doorknob. 

"Are you choking on something"? She opened the door. 
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

All I wanted to know was about the chat, what are the times and on what days do people meet up in the chatroom? Be interesting to pop along and say hi!! Could someone please post?

I posted the message and it told me "Document contains no data", so I posted it again, as I thought that it hadn't been sent. On the third posting it came up with the "this message has been successfully posted" screen. 

I reloaded the guestbook and found my message three times!!! There was absolutely no indication that it had been posted the first time when I got the "no data" error. So sorry about the multiple postings, but it wasn't my fault!

What's the URL for the site you mentioned? 

Tnx. 

This is a true statement and in such does not represent my employers opinion...

On a warm summer evening in 1977, I was horsing around with Jim and George (age 7), my youngest cousin, in the back yard of my Aunt Jean's house. It was about nine o'clock, and night had fallen over the neighborhood. It felt too hot to hang around indoors, so we passed the time away outside by shooting the breeze on the back porch. I was barefoot and shirtless, clad only in a pair of denim cutoff shorts. Jim was also barefoot and shirtless, but wore a pair of jeans. George, who had worn a shirt all day, promptly removed his so he wouldn't be left out of the "Shirtless Brigade". 
 

Jim and George tried to convince me that there existed a local version of Bigfoot in the woods just beyond the houses. The legend is varied from region to region, but Bigfoot was basically a large (about seven foot--or over two meters for you metric fans), fur- covered, man-like creature who dwelled in the deep woods, and who was generally not somebody you'd want to meet late at night. But I took these lurid stories with a grain of salt. When George and his sisters spent a week at my lakeside home, I had scared them with stories of a Loch Ness-type monster, so I figured this was George's revenge on me. 
 

However, as I sat with them on the steps of the porch, I saw a sight far more frightening than any Bigfoot: It was Becca, hunched down, making her way around the side of the porch. I was the only one of us boys who sat facing her, and thus, I was the only one who had any advance warning. As she crept towards us, I let out a "Uh, oh!" 
 

But George, deep in his vivid story about how Bigfoot-only-grabs-visiting-12-year-old- boy-cousins-who-are-clad-in-cut-off-shorts, mistook my "uh oh" to mean I was scared of his tale and simply rambled on. 
 

At which point, Becca rose up from behind Jim and let out her best monster roar at the top of her lungs. She even waved her hands at her sides like a pretty, blond version of Godzilla. 
 

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin, while George shot up the steps and into the house with lightning speed. I don't even recall George getting up--one second he was sitting, the next he was gone. 
 

Becca grabbed her brother from behind in a bear hug, then wrestled him off of the steps and onto the grassy ground. This really wasn't much a surprise. If you read the last story, you'd know that Becca had been after her brother since he decided to make a nuisance of himself during a tie-up game where she was the captor. So it was just a matter of time before she sought her revenge, but I was still taken aback at how soon Becca struck, since the last game only ended a few hours ago. 
 

Becca brought what we lovingly referred to as a "bondage bag"--a wrinkled paper bag that contained a pair of toy plastic handcuffs, which she slapped on Jim's wrists, effectively binding his hands behind his back. Becca then took out a roll of tape and gagged him with several strips across the bottom half of his face. 

Then Becca made her brother lie face-down on the grass, where she bound his ankles together with the tape. I calmly sat on the porch steps and watched this little scene as Jim frowned at me over his gag. I figured there was no need for me to get excited--or involved--because Becca's revenge was only targeted at Jim. 
 

However, once Jim was bound and gagged on the lawn, Becca held up a second pair of handcuffs and dangled them at me. "Do I have to come get you?" she asked, almost looking hopeful that I would force her hand. 

With a smile, I got up, went over and knelt down before Becca, who promptly cuffed my wrists behind my back. "Um, Becca?" I said over my bare shoulder. "I thought you just wanted revenge against Jim." 

"Yep," she happily replied, as she retrieved the roll of tape. 

"So why are you cuffing me?" I asked. 

"Felt like it," Becca casually answered with a little shrug, as she gagged me with the tape. I was made to lay face down on the grass next to Jim. And the grass felt pretty darn cool against my bare chest, let me tell you! Becca then taped my ankles together. This was the first time in my life I ever been bound with tape, and I was amazed at how snug it was; I couldn't move my ankles for anything. They felt as if they had been glued together. 

Becca knelt down on the grass as she retrieved the roll of tape and put it back in her bag. She abruptly glanced up at something and said, "Did you hear that?" 

Jim and I were in no position to answer her--we simply writhed and rolled around on the grass, grunting and groaning under our gags as we struggled to break free. Eventually, I realized how futile these efforts were and laid still. Jim did the same. 

"Wait," Becca said urgently, as she pointed at the distant woods. "What was that?! Did you see that? It looked like a pair of glowing red eyes peeking out from behind the trees!" 

I heard Jim let out a long groan of disgust under his gag. It was obvious that Becca had overheard our Bigfoot conversation and was now using it as a form of psychological torture against us. 

"There's something out there," Becca said in a whisper. She had this mock-horrified look on her face as she added, "And it's coming closer!" 

Becca got to her feet and said, "I better get inside, where it's safe. See you guys later....I hope!" 
 

Then Becca strode inside the house, where I faintly heard her chatting it up with my cousins and Aunt Jean. I glanced at the house and saw George staring fearfully at us from behind the glass sliding doors. 
 

I managed to sit up and gaze at the distant woods. Despite the fact that I knew Bigfoot was just a folklore, a chill slid up my spine. I consoled myself with the thought that if Bigfoot--or anything else--came charging out of the woods to grab us, it would have to cross an open field to do so, thus giving me and Jim plenty of warning. 
 

Not that we would actually be able to do anything, mind you. If Jim and I were bound with plain old rope, we could have picked each other's knots loose, but that was impossible to do with handcuffs. Add to that the fact that our ankles were bound with tape, and it appeared that Becca chose a damn near perfect method of binding us this time. 

However, I still had an idea. I wiggled and writhed my way over to Jim, who started giggling hysterically under his gag (I have no doubt that I looked pretty goofy; your dignity is usually the first thing to go in a tie-up game). 

Once I got close enough to Jim's feet, I started feeling for the edge of the tape which bound his ankles. I figured if I could find this, I could simply pull the tape off of Jim's ankles. Jim instantly figured out what I was up to, and actually rolled over on his side for me so I was able to find the tape's edge. Once my fingers located it, I kept picking at it until enough of the tape was peeled back for me to get a good grip. Thankfully, the handcuffs actually helped in that there was enough of slack on the plastic link between the cuffs to give me enough room to work. 

I unwrapped the tape from Jim's ankles about three times before he was able to twist his legs free. Then Jim got into position to free my ankles. While Jim unraveled the tape from my legs, I glanced back at the house; I had to admit I was a little nervous, because both my aunt and uncle were home. But nobody was in the kitchen--not even George, who probably couldn't bear to watch us get snatched by Bigfoot. 

Once my ankles were free, Jim and I got to our feet and began stumbling towards the house. Our hands were still cuffed behind us, our mouths were gagged, and Jim still had pieces of tape stuck to the legs of his jeans, but at least we no longer helplessly laid on the grass. 

As we both stepped onto the porch, I began wondering how we were going to find a way to remove these cuffs. To my surprise and delight, George met us at the sliding glass door with a plastic handcuff key. My cousins Donna and Shirley also had their own toy handcuffs (no self-respecting captor on this block would be without a pair)and the same keys worked in all of them. Once Jim and I were un-cuffed, and we finally removed our gags, George told us that everybody was watching TV in the living room, but Becca was currently using the bathroom. 

This was just too good an opportunity for us to miss! Jim, George and I went inside, waved at everybody as we passed the living room, then ran like hell down the hallway to the girls' bedroom, where George pointed out where Donna kept her own bondage bag while Jim kept an eye on the bathroom. 

While there were no handcuffs in Donna's bag, there was plenty of rope and a roll of tape- -which was good enough for me. Jim, George and I stood guard outside the bathroom. I had pulled off a strip of tape and held it at the ready to stick onto Becca's mouth. 

When Becca finally emerged from the bathroom, instead of being shocked, she merely gave us a heavy sigh, as if already resigned to her fate. I stuck the tape over her mouth, gagging her, then led her down the hall to the room I shared with George. I made Becca sit down on my bed while we discussed how she would be tied. 

While we debated her fate, Becca sat casually examining the curls at the end of her long blond hair, as if wondering if she should change her shampoo--all while she was gagged with the strip of tape. She was clad in a sleeveless, button-down shirt with a matching skirt. She had worn sandals, but had since removed them and was now barefoot. 

I wanted to hog-tie her, and Jim and George quickly consented. Becca helpfully laid face- down on the bed, making sure her skirt didn't ride up on her. Getting some rope, I knelt before Becca and bound her wrists together behind her back, while Jim worked on tying her ankles together. 

When her hands and feet were securely bound, Jim left to me the task of hog-tying Becca's wrists to her ankles, and it was a moment I savored. I made sure I gave her just enough slack so she wouldn't be too uncomfortable. Her body laid flat while her legs were bent up at the knees. Becca's bare feet stuck up in the air, and she let out a growl under her gag when I reached out and tickled her soles. 

Usually I would look forward to some writhing around by a female captive, but Becca just laid there, staring off into empty space, as if patiently counting off the minutes until she would be freed. It was almost as if she were an athlete suffering through our version of the penalty box. 

And so we decided to leave her alone...in the dark. I was the last one out of the room, and Becca shot me a really dangerous look just before I switched the light off. It was the sort of look that said, I will hunt you down and make you pay, you little creep! And, being the strange little boy that I was, I just couldn't wait to see what she would do to me! 
 

Jim, George and I passed Donna in the hallway. Donna gave the three of us a suspicious look as she asked, "Anybody see Becca?" 

"Nope! Nuh-huh! Haven't seen her at all," we all replied. We then joined my Aunt and Uncle and Shirley for an evening of TV watching. 

Of course Donna found Becca and freed her. They joined us in the living room and watched TV for the rest of the evening. Becca did get her revenge--but not before something else happened: shy, quiet Karen from down the street went berserk and took everybody captive (again). That story will be next. As always, thanks for reading. 

To this day, I'm surprised at how the tie-up games that my cousins (Donna, 13; Shirley, 11) and I (age 12) played with the neighborhood kids (Becca, 14; her brother Jim, 12, and Karen, also 13) managed to take on a life of their own--to the point where we had inadvertently adopted a code of behavior. Take, for example, revenge. When revenge was sought on somebody, all the captor had to do was unexpectantly spring a tie-up game on them (either by waving a toy gun, or by simply announcing the start of a game). The captive-to-be would then willingly allow him (or her)self to be tied in any manner the captor wished. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold--but in our case, revenge was a tie-up game best played tightly knotted. 

 Another (suggested) tie-up thing at the Applevision. Bad Wolf had ambushed two of the Gnomes that were on their path to the Dentist Gnome (hey, that is supposed to be an educative show!) and made them prisoners. No direct scenes, though. The third Gnome appeared in the end with the freed Gnomes and just said that the Bad Wolf just was not able to tie knots. 

 That is all for now. Have fun. Ciao! 

Anyways, Jamie heard me talking to my friend about it, and her eyes got wide with excitment.."Where is this house, Mike? What did you guys tape?" I was shocked because I was surprised she remembed my name, so I started to tell her about it. She was so into trying to go there, I could tell so I told her the location of the place; it was far off into the country, I told her where we dumped are car too.. She then went on to tell me that she just got her lisence and so on and so on. Then class started. 
Now by the end of the class my friend and I were walking down the hall, he heard her talk about how she was going to go check out this haunted house, with one of her friends that very night around 8:00 o clock, that was around the time when the sun was out and it was pretty dark. Maybe i was feeling evil that day, i'm not sure, but I planed on getting there before Jamie did that night and parking the car at another place. So that night I waited and she never came, so the next day I waited again and then this time she came....alone! Now I was hiding in the woods next to the street which she was walking on, on the way to the house....something inside of me decided to try to scare her...but then maybe my crush kicked in again too. There was a part where the woods opened up and it was very dark there...a place where jamie would have to go through. 

So I followed Jaime all away around and she was getting ready to enter the short foulage to get near the house area....she passed by the big tree I hid behind...and thats when i decided to act. Quickly I got behind, and she didn't hear a thing, so I quickly clamped her mouth my hand and pinned her arms against her waist...she started to "MPH" rather loudly when...

Maybe another term, like "flash memory", would get the point across without being confusing to new members?

 Heres what I do. 

 1) Write and post my story or comment 

 2) Check errors 

 3) HTML paragraphing: Place a capital P at the very end of each paragraph directly after the full stop. Remember to put < and > on each side of the P or it won't work. 

 4) Click on "Sign the Guestbook" 

 5) After it has taken you to the page that says you posted successfully, hit BACK on the browser tool bar. This will take you back to this same posting form page. Do not click on "Sign the Guestbook" again. 

 6) Click on BACK again. It will then take you to the DreamBook proper. Your post will not appear. (the page needs to be reloaded to see it) 

 7) Click RELOAD to see your post. 

 Hope this helps. Good luck! 

So how does a Grandmother handle it if her grandsons want to play a game that might result in her being tied up? 

Maddog: 

Was your wife ever an Avon Lady in San Diego, around the mid seventies? 

Did she ever mention finding three women in the act of being tied to the patio roof support posts? 

Did she ever mention joining those ladies? 

Did she ever mention how awful the synthetic uniform scarves tasted?

 And on that note... 
The next installment to my 'bondage adventures' was not necessarily the third, but it sticks out in my mind as being the next most important. It was that same summer, though maybe a month or so later, and I really don't remember anything happening in the time between. I remember this one because it seemed that all of my playmates had conspired against me at the same time and went on their family vacations at once, leaving me alone on our block, and really feeling put upon by the middle of that particular week. 

 My sister Carol was watching me again, a job she had most of my childhood as she was the older sibling, and in my parents eyes at least, the more responsible. I was only ten, after all, at that transitional age between 4th grade snots and 5th grade apples as the old rhyme goes, hardly in a position to fend for myself. Both of our parents were working, and our family get away was not scheduled until September, so Carol watched me, for the most part, every weekday from 8 to 5. 

 I remember feeling bored and rejected that day (no playmates, remember)as Carol and I sat around watching morning T.V. I don't recall the shows back then (it was 25 years ago)but I know they did not hold my attention for long. Probably soaps, but don't hold me to it, as Carol was a fan. As the bratty baby brother, I was probably doing something to annoy her from my usual position, sprawled on the floor in front of the television set (one of those huge floor models that were the rage back then), and she was probably sitting in our father's easy chair trying to watch her programs. Back then I remember that I had a few things that I liked to do to get to my sister; kicking her under the table at dinner, making all kinds of noise when she was on the phone or had a friend over, or tickling her feet and poking and pinching her when I was laying on the floor. She had her share of teases as well; stealing my food at dinner, embarassing me in front of my friends, and generally bossing me around as is the older sibling's right in life. It seemed pretty even to me, neither of us having an advantage really. 

 I can imagine myself, bored senseless watching soap operas, rolling over and pulling off my sister's dangling clog as she sat engrossed in her show. I would tickle her foot, and she would pull away, trying to ignore me, finally kicking at my hands to get me to stop. 

 "Quit it!" I can hear her saying, shoving at me with her foot, which I'm sure only encouraged my efforts. Finally, fed up with my antics, she said (and I remember her saying this)"Do you want me to tie you up again?!" 

 Well, I was shocked. Of course I wanted her to tie me up. I had really enjoyed my two previous adventures (as you will know if you read my previous posts), though I had not really thought of how to initiate another bondage session. Now I knew...Piss my sister off. 

 Being the brat, I of course dared her, no doubt saying something like 'you wouldn't dare.' This of course prompted my sister to get up and storm into her room, telling me that I better straighten up before she got back. I, naturally, changed the channel to cartoons. 

 Carol returned in a few seconds and stood defiantly over me, rope in hand. She had slipped back into her clog, giving her an enormous heigth as I looked up into her scowling face. "Last chance." she said, "Are you gonna be good?" 

 I said, "I am being good." 

 With that she grabbed one arm and quickly flipped me over, then pounced on my back. I was no lightweight back then, but my sister was no meek little princess either. She was stronger than I gave her credit for, and easily hauled my arms back behind me, tying my wrists together in the same fashion as she had before; round and round and occasionally crossing the loops, a style she used on more than one occasion. When my hands were secure, she grabbed one arm and hauled me to my feet, leading me over to a kitchen chair. 

 She plopped me down in the chair, and without a word, took another length of rope and began lashing me to the chair's sturdy ladder-back, criss-crossing over my shoulders and around my chest and belly until I was secured to the chair back. Happy with that, she quickly wrapped some rope around my ankles, which she then tied-off to one of the chair legs. She tied my knees next, then stepped back to admire her work. 

 At that point I was pretty much helpless, and we both knew it. I of course whined and said that I was sorry, and that I would never do it again (at least until next time), but Carol was too far gone by then to listen to my pleas. In fact, at that point she produced a scarf from her back pocket and proceeded to gag me, stuffing that scarf in my mouth, then tying my mouth to hold it in with another scarf from the same source. I soon was silent and immobile, looking up at my sister who was checking all the knots, making sure they were secure, but also not too tight as to hurt. Carol was always concerned as to my welfare whenever she tied me. 

 Satisfied with her handiwork, Carol tossed the extra rope onto the table and flopped back into her chair without a word. I remember that well, how she was more interested in her soaps than in my suddenly helpless condition. She ignored me as I struggled at my bonds, trying my (sort of) best to get free. I won't lie...I liked being tied up, and I was not about to accidentally free myself, not that I could have back then. 

 I remained that way for awhile, watching, both excited and frustrated at being bound and helpless, as Carol watched her soaps, ate lunch, watched game shows, etc. Occasionally she would ask if I was okay, or if I wanted to be good and let go. She had a way of saying it that made any answer I gave a response to be left as I was, and so, in all, I spent several hours tied to that chair that day. She teased me I know, and ignored me as well, which was even worse, as for me, it's always been the ability of the captor to walk freely about, doing as they pleased, while I was bound and helpless that made the experience memorable. 

 In the end she of course untied me, after first getting a promise out of me to be good for an indeterminate amount of time. Next day, I'm quite sure that I was acting the ass again, however, as I was tied a few more times on later dates to teach me a lesson, which apparently I have still yet to learn. 
 

My third adventure, though not in the league of other posters on this board, was still memorable to me. I know my sister enjoyed tying me up as much as I enjoyed being the captive in our little encounters. I have never asked her why, or if she did this with boyfriends, or if I was the only one. I've never asked her what she thought, having me bound and at her mercy, but I know she must have enjoyed it, like me, as it happened a few more times before she moved out and went on to college and work. I enjoyed it to the point of it being an important part of my life through my girlfriends as I grew up, and my current partner of over 12 years. I remember having some embarassing moments over the years; girls laughing at my fetish, and the 

 Dreambook, I guess, decided I was taking too long to write my piece and posted it without my approval...Really...I don't know what happened... 

 What I was getting around to was saying that there's opportunities for all out there...Don't give up, or be discouraged. 
Well...Dreambook broke my stride...sorry for the multiple posts...My tux didn't come back from the cleaners...there was a plague of locusts...a terrible flood... 

 It wasn't my fault... 
See you in the chat, and keep postin'. We want to read those stories. 

 Curt

Computers are so much fun....

 BTW, just so u all know, I'm working now so I can't make it into the chat until Friday and saturday (your times) Thats Sat and Sun morning for me. Hope to see you all then... 

 But think of all the bondage magazines and videos I can buy with the money I am earning! (lol) Every cloud has a silver lining in it somewhere...

Anyways, Jamie heard me talking to my friend about it, and her eyes got wide with excitment.."Where is this house, Mike? What did you guys tape?" I was shocked because I was surprised she remembed my name, so I started to tell her about it. She was so into trying to go there, I could tell so I told her the location of the place; it was far off into the country, I told her where we dumped are car too.. She then went on to tell me that she just got her lisence and so on and so on. Then class started. 
Now by the end of the class my friend and I were walking down the hall, he heard her talk about how she was going to go check out this haunted house, with one of her friends that very night around 8:00 o clock, that was around the time when the sun was out and it was pretty dark. Maybe i was feeling evil that day, i'm not sure, but I planed on getting there before Jamie did that night and parking the car at another place. So that night I waited and she never came, so the next day I waited again and then this time she came....alone! Now I was hiding in the woods next to the street which she was walking on, on the way to the house....something inside of me decided to try to scare her...but then maybe my crush kicked in again too. There was a part where the woods opened up and it was very dark there...a place where jamie would have to go through. 

So I followed Jaime all away around and she was getting ready to enter the short foulage to get near the house area....she passed by the big tree I hid behind...and thats when i decided to act. Quickly I got behind, and she didn't hear a thing, so I quickly clamped her mouth my hand and pinned her arms against her waist...she started to "MPH" rather loudly when...

BTW, Andy, I don't think that was a good question to ask; we want to make new people feel welcome here, not scare them away! Sorry, but your question sounded intimidating to me.

 I am sorry if you feel that the standard of stories has been declining. Feel free to disagree but IMHO I think they are more or less still good as ever! One reason for the supposed decline in the quality of the stories here is that may of the early writers, several of whom had real writing talent have run of of interesting true experiences to write about. 

 Therefore, many of them have, or are now turning their hand to (bondage) fiction writing and have set up their own websites to that end. (for example, Doug's site.) 

 I've also written a couple of stories with 2 more in the pipeline. I don't have a website yet, but it will happen! 

 Hope this answers your query. 

But I also agree that the quality of the stories is not as high as when Gillian was writing (amongst others). That does not mean that the current once are not good, they are written by another kind of writers. And I still enjoy them!

Personally, I'm just glad that people are posting stories again. There was a little while after Canuck changed his page when posting declined. I'm glad that the site got over it quickly. 

I'm sorry for any mess-ups in this post, I'm still gettng used to the current system.

Back in the late 70's and early 80's, when my kids were active in these kind of games, several of my friends and I were tied up at the same time. 

I remember that I happened to go over to a neighbor's and found her and another neighbor tied to her patio chairs. 

From their expressions, and what they said, the gags were very ineffective, it was very plain that it was all in fun. So, when her son and another boy pointed their phasers at me, I played along. 

I also remember a time when three or four of us were just sitting around having coffee. The gang appeared and tried the same thing. That time one of the others said no, and that was the end of it. 

A few weeks later the same group wound up tied back-back-back-back on the grass. 

I think the boys intentionally planned things so at least half of each group they tried had already played. As a result the new women were generally told it was ok. I think that a lot of the first timers would have refused if they had been approached by themselves. Being with friends who were saying it was ok probably made the difference. I know it did for me. 

On another note, I think there is a real dichotomy here between those who have been doing this for forty or more years, and the gen x slackers who know everything. 

From my own experiences, I can see the kernels of truth in Dudalb's and some of the others' 'TIEING UP MOM' stories. The stories from the "MOMS" ring true, but a large percentage of the kid-kid stories belong on the fiction sites. 

I am sure that I am not the only one here who would be very happy if certain people never posted any more of their untrue fantasies. Unfortunately they constitute the most vocal, egotistical, and self- aggrandizing bunch around. So we will probably continue to be blessed with their efforts. Maybe they will try to stroke their massive egos even more by starting their own pages, and leave here. 

I'm sure that I will draw criticism from the usual bunch for daring to say that. 
Probably be branded a troublemaker, like everyone else who doesn't toe the party line. 

Since I am at it, how come the archives aren't organized anymore? It almost seems like Canuck has lost intertest since the boy-boy stories lost their preeminence. 

And while I am on a roll here, if this site was set up like ABDUCTOR'S SSK forum, we could all see who wrote what without having to scroll through all the stuff we don't like. We could also comment directly on a story. Might make things more pleasant for everybody. My husband never gets any complaints from people who have to wade through his stories there to get to the ones they like. 

All you slackers fire away, I'll just consider the source. 

I would be interested in hearing back from Idron, Burke, Charlie B, and any other adults who are left.

http://www.abducor.com 

site map 

http://www.abductor.com/abductor/html

I think all of us embellish our stories a bit, some more than others. I have stated tht my stories are based on fact, but when memory fails, I'll "manufacture" a quote, or sequence. 

Second, stories are only as good as the teller. There are some that I have elected not to put up, because I would have to go to 40-60% fiction, rather than 10-15%. 

Third, each person's experiences are different. Some have had lots of girl-boy or boy-girl experiences. Mine, because of the time in which I lived, and the attitudes of that time, are mostly boy-boy, although there were times when my sister and her friend became involved - either voluntarily, or involuntarily. 

I can't speak for others, but when I was 12, if given the choice of tying and gagging my little brother (10), or playing baseball, I probably would have chosen baseball more often than not. My little sister (11), was a different story, as there was considerable sibling rivalry in our family, especially between Ray and Cathy. She would drop everything to do in Ray. There was rivalry between Cathy and me, too, but I had the huge advantage of having a twin brother, and it was much easier for Cathy to fight with Ray, and win, than it was for her to fight with Billy and me, and lose - although there were a few times when she did succeed in getting the better of us. 

So take the stories for what they are worth. If you enjoy them, fine. If a particular author doesn't interest you, scroll past him/her. As for me, I don't give two hoots in hell if the story is true. What I care about, is whether or not it is interesting, plausable, and well told. If it does not meet those criteria, I bag it, and move on to the next one. 

Burke

 I just wanted to say that I am very disapointed in your comments. The reason many people like this site is because it is somewhere that people can post their stories without being bashed on or called "fibbers" When someone comes in and says that they are "sick of these lazy gen Xers" it just discourages people from writing. 

If you have a problem with the stories that are written here than please, write your own stories and give constrctive criticism rather than simply attacking others. I know that many of the posters here welcome ideas on how to improve their writing, but challenges are just not productive. 

 I hope that you will read this in the spirit that it was intended, I am not attacking you and am not looking for a fight, I just feel that the "friendliness" of the sight should be preserved. 

 I hope that you will read this, even though a am a "generation Xer"

Violet, 
I have nothing against gen xers as a group, five of them are mine. 

I do have a major problem with these stuck up, extremely self important people who think we are all just counting the seconds until they bless us with another penny dreadful, made up story. They seem to feel that every inconsequential detail of their lives is of vital importance to us. Unfortunatly they are all thirty somethings. 

Burke, 
I think you do a very good job with your rememberances. Same sex bondage doesn't appeal to us, but your stories are very well crafted. 

Sorry that I forgot to write down your your name, 
Like a lot of baby boomers, I can only remember short scenes, or what happened in general. 
As you have probably figured out by now, I am not one of those who can take a brief memory and fabricate a conversation filled, detail saturated story that runs 20, or more, parts. 

I'll say it again, if we didn't have to scroll through everything searching for the type of story that appeals to us, this site would be a lot better. 
There is a much better system currently in use at Abductor's SSK forum. 

See, I am not just bitching. 

BTW I would like to see or hear from females that like to tie up males. Good stories in the past and keep it up everyone

I don't read everything on here, but have found no evidence of unpleasant people who attack one another, such as can be found on the abductor site, which has a resident enforcer who goes after everyone who doesn't kiss the buttocks section. 

Please keep posting folks, don't be discouraged by those who only want what they like on the web, and to heck with the rest of us

I understand that peoples tastes vary. What one person thinks is great, somebody else thinks is garbage. That is life. 

If someone will explain to me how to just view the authors we like, or the new guys, without having to scroll through everything, I would really appreciate it. 

I really do not know how to make it any plainer or clearer. 

Some posters in here we really look forward to, others we do not enjoy, due to both their content and style. 

So, again, how do we get to the stuff we like without having to wade through the stuff we do not like. 

I'll be waiting for our explanations. 

Do not bother with 'just skip what you do not like, because you cannot!!' 
 

What thought police on SSK? 
Do you mean Paige? 
It is her and her husband's site, afterall. Heaven forbid that she should try to enforce their posting guidelines.

Sniff... 
 

Anyhoo, I haven't posted for two reasons: 1) I had better things to do, no offense, and 2) I HATE Canuck's new posting system! Yeah, you can cut 80 gazillion posts to one really long one, but havin' to type little thingies to process it right is really irking me. The old system was better. I hate change. 
Pretty good stories so far. I shall eventually post. Betcha no one misses me now... 
Like "Full House" reruns, I shall return....eventually. 'Ciao. 
P.S.= See "Dogma" while it's out there...it rules. Noochies.

of course it must be: CONGRATULATIONS to your site:-))))

You can jump around a post by using page up or down, check it out, and if it's not to your liking move on. It takes seconds. 

It doesn't take me long to scan, as I like most of what is on here. 

On other sites, and this one, there are storys I don't care for due to content and style. So it goes. 

Keep writing everyone, if you would, use the HTML as it makes posts easier to read. 

Look forward to reading more of your stuff Doug

Hey Violet, I think your stories are great and hope to see more of them. Just ignore gramma. He/She is either a Control Freak or a Troll who is hiding behind the lamest of excuses to cause trouble here. 

You raise some very valid points, many of which I agree with. 

But, regardless of what it says on the main page, honest discussions and comments are not welcome here. 
You were wise not to include your e-mail address. 

Having said that. Anybody else have a sense of 'deja vu' all over again, and smell a work. 

REMEMBER HARMONIZER ??

Didn't that little episode start out much the same way? 

Charlie B. 

How do you key on new posters? Ones that you have never seen before. You still have to scan through everything else to find the new gems. Is there some secret code embedded in all first time posts that we can key on. 

Comment: 
I know that because I don't kiss certain peoples asses, I am really not welcome here, but until this becomes a secret, by invitation only site, that's life. 

Whether Just Call Me Gramma is a troll, or has another agenda, he/she makes a very good point about Abductor's SSK site being a lot more reader friendly than this one. This type of board is great for a discussion site like Brian's, but for a story site it sucks big time.[Oh no, more attacks] 

I do not think the story quality has gone down hill lately. Some may have benefited from another editing, but I would rather see something a little rough, that is on point, than a polished, overblown, mostly fictional, offering. 

I think that the snapshot idea is a good way to pass along interesting tidbits. Wonder how long it will be before Dudalb takes credit for starting that. :-) [that's a joke son]{bonus points if you can identify the character that used to say that} 

It is really sad that when anyone posts anything other than 'great story' people always swarm to attack them. 
 

 Just to add my 2 cents worth, I like and appreciate (most) stories here by virtue of the fact that the posters DID take the time and effort to write and post them, thus keeping this storyboard alive. And simply coz I like reading about girls (and even guys) getting tied up. 

 Thank you all! 

 That is why I will make a comment such a "Great story" in order to encourage new posters to continue posting. It is a very nice feeling to receive positive feedback like that! 

 Now could we have some more stories please? (grin) 

In the past year, I have seen people come here with the specific intention of starting fights by nitpicking people. One of them who several weeks here even confessed to that as his last post. While this dude was doing this, I was getting email criticizing me for attacking them, and I backed off. I learned from that to trust my instincts. When I smell a troll in the future, I will not back off. 

Since most people who post here do so under the same name every time, it's pretty easy to skip those who we don't want to read. There is no reason at all to have trouble with what someone else writes here. Some people simply can't get along with others. I had a neighbor like that. Before moving next door to me, they had moved 4 times in the last 10 years because they had "trouble" with their neighbors. Well, by the time they left our neighborhood, they had filed suits against 4 neighbors for different things, and didn't understand why nobody liked them. It was not their fault, it was ours, and I'm sure they felt that way everyplace they moved. 

In summary, you really need to learn how to get along with other people. Obviously you are not very good at it. While you are learning this, please read more and post less, expecially here. 

I have been lurking reading this site for sometime. I have some interesting stories to share, but have not had the time to write them down, but I will in the future. 
 

What prompted me to "de-lurk" was the recent criticism of some of the stories and the format of the site. I think those who have been kind enough to share their stories with everyone else should realize that for everyone who is critical of a story there are many more who enjoy and appreciate it, but are silent. Certainly some stories are written better then others, but they all have their own particular charm. Perhaps that is one of the best things about the site, the diversity. 
 

Canuck provides a site that is enjoyable for most, and is free from commercial links. While one can wish for improvements in the ability to access various stories, and can even dream of hypertext links to previous related stories, the site is what it is. I, for one, would prefer it to remain in it's current charming form then to become more sophisticated and commercialized. 
 

One might suggest the adoption of keywords by posters and used as a header in their stories. In such a system, searches using the "find" commands in browsers would locate particular topics. Eventually, if this were employed, it could be included as field if the software for the site will accept new fields. As an example, I put at the start "Comment". Other possible categories include: Boy/girl, Girl/boy, Boy/boy, Girl/girl, Boy/mom, etc (to designate tier and tiee), tickling, wargame, Indiant/cowboys, etc. I personally enjoy reading all stories, but keywords would certainly help fishing particular topics from the archives and would address the desires of some users of the site. 
 

With or without changes, I think most of us can agree this is a wonderful site. On behalf of other silent lurkers I thank Canuck and all posters for your contributions on this wonderful site. Desmo Desmo

I'm glad you folks are sensible about handling people who don't agree with you, best not to waste time trying to change others minds. 

Site seems to be as friendly as others, they will always be some one wanting to fuss, best to hit page down and see what the next story is. 

What ever happened to Alex, who wrote such a good story so long ago? He never finished the one he took over to Rob's site

I don't really mind a good discussion from time to time. It's by confronting established ideas that we can make things better. But this thread was a little bit out of control, so I felt the need to intervene and put a stop to it. 

Some good things came out of this, though. For example, I like Desmo's idea to add a new field, so that it would be easier to browse through stories. I'll see what I can do about that. But don't expect a change in the posting system: I really don't like the kind of posting system used at Abductor's. I'll stick with Dreambook's posting system. 

Speaking of Dreambook's posting system: have you noticed that it seems to work better that before? 

Now, as Mason said, could we have some more stories please? :) 

Any of you guys who can spot a phony a mile away care to tell me what other five names I have used for stories since August of 1998. 

Hint only two were from webtv.

You are obviously unhapy that people post stories here that don't quite meeet your standards for whatever reasons. Instead of coming in here and flaming, why don't you start your own web site where everyone who wants to post has to use Mary Poppins style perfect grammer. Also you can require that each reported incident must have at least 5 witnesses, and make them sign a waiver agreeing to submit to a lie detector test if you feel the witnesses were not credible for any reason. 

I'm sure there are people desparately looking for such a site to post to, and you can be the one to fulfill that demand. 

You could call your new site "Post and Consequences"! 

 On a more pleasant note, I think the keywords concept is a good idea if it's workable.