Mother son Bonding (m/F, F/m)

[Bondageboi]

"Mom, can you tie me up?" James asked, his eyes never leaving the frenetic pages of his comic book.

Julie looked up from the kitchen counter, where she was stacking dishes. "What did you say, James?" she questioned, a hint of amusement in her voice.

James, noticing her curiosity, set the comic aside and repeated his request. "I want you to tie me up, like in the movies or comic books. You know, like when the hero gets captured." His cheeks flushed slightly, as if realising the absurdity of his words.
Julie chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Alright, but only if you really want to. And I’ve got to make sure it's safe, okay?"

She searched around the house (kitchen, spare bedroom, her bedroom, hall cupboard) and found a few scarves , a roll of wide tape and a coil of washing line. She approached James with a playful smile, her mind racing with the idea of giving her son a taste of his adventure he may not have bargained for. "I guess we'll make do with what we have. Let's go over the rules first. No struggling until I have you tied up, and not so hard that you hurt yourself; I won’t tie you tight; and if you really need me to stop, just say the word 'marmalade'."

James nodded solemnly, his heart racing with excitement. He had never tried anything like this before. His mother's willingness to indulge his whims was thrilling, and the promise of a real-life adventure in the comfort of their own home was more than he could have hoped for. He watched as she carefully wrapped scarves around his wrists and then secured them to the back of the chair. The washing line went around his upper arms, chest, elbows and the back of the chair, creating a makeshift corset that held him firmly in place.

Next, she tackled his ankles with the same care, looping the line around each one and then tying it to the chair legs. He felt a peculiar mix of vulnerability and exhilaration as she worked her way up to his knees. "Mom, not too tight," he giggled, the light touch of her hands tickling his sensitive skin as he tested the strength of the knots. She kissed his forehead and tightened them a smidge more, ensuring he couldn't wiggle free without her knowing.

Finally, she blindfolded him with a scarf, knotting it gently at the back of his head. "Are you sure about this?" she asked one last time. He nodded eagerly, his breathing quickening. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "Okay, I'm going to gag you now. Remember, if it's too much, say 'marmalade'. I’ll still understand it. Julie pushed one balled up scarf into his mouth, securing it in place with two strips of tape sealing his lips.

With a muffled giggle herself, she began her assault on his ribs, lifting his shirt out of the way.
James' laughs grew more frantic as her fingers danced over his bare stomach, her nails skimming his sides. He squirmed and bucked against his restraints, the chair creaking in protest. The tape held firm, muffling his squeaks and giggles, turning them into a symphony of muffled sounds. His eyes watered under the scarf, and his body shook with the effort to hold in his laughter.

Julie's own laughter grew louder as she watched her son's reaction. She hadn't felt so carefree in a long time. Her days as a single mother were often filled with work and responsibilities, leaving little room for spontaneous play. But as she saw James' bound form writhing in the chair, she couldn't help but feel a strange connection to her own childhood. She remembered the games she used to play with her own friends and siblings, the harmless dares that had once filled their weekends with joy and excitement.

Her fingertips glided over James' bare legs, tracing invisible patterns that sent him into a fit of giggles. She took her time, enjoying the sound of his laughter and the way his skin reacted to her touch. Then, she moved to his feet, tickling the soles and in between his toes. He jerked and squirmed, his body a canvas of delight and discomfort. The tension in the room grew palpable, a mix of playfulness and the thrill of the unknown.

Julie noticed that James' laughter grew more intense as she focused on his feet. His body tensed up, and the chair wobbled precariously under his thrashing. Clearly, his feet were the most sensitive spot, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was something he'd discovered on his own before. She pressed her fingertips into the arches of his feet, and his muffled squeals grew louder. The sound was music to her ears, a reminder of the joy she could still share with her son amidst the chaos of life.

While James squirmed and giggled, she took the opportunity to regale him with tales of medieval stocks. She painted a vivid picture of the wooden contraptions, where unfortunate people's ankles were locked in place, their bare feet exposed to the whims of passersby. Sometimes their heads and hands would be locked in a pillory too. "They couldn't even get up to scratch their nose," she said, her voice playful and dramatic. "Imagine being stuck there for days, with everyone laughing and poking at your feet!" She listened closely for any indication that he might say the safe word, her heart pounding with anticipation.

But James didn't say 'marmalade'. Instead, his laughter grew louder, his body jerking in response to the feather-light strokes of her fingers. She took it as a sign to press on, her enthusiasm growing with every giggle he produced. "You know, James," she whispered into his ear, "if you don't behave, I might just have to keep you like this for hours. Or maybe even days!" His response was a muffled, unintelligible sound that she took for agreement.

Her hands moved more vigorously over his feet, pressing into the tender skin with a firm but gentle touch. She watched as his toes curled and uncurled in their futile attempt to escape the torture. "Tell me, James," she said, panting slightly with the exertion, "how long do you think you could handle this?" Her voice took on a teasing tone as she envisioned him stuck in this chair, his feet at her mercy for the whole weekend.

James' response was a garbled sound of pure glee, his cheeks red and his breaths coming in short gasps. The sound of his laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls and bouncing back to her, fuelling her own amusement. She knew he was enjoying it, despite the occasional squirm and whine that slipped out around the fabric in his mouth.

Julie took a step back and surveyed her handiwork, her thoughts drifting back to her own childhood. She remembered the endless afternoons playing cops and robbers with her siblings and friends. The thrill of the chase, the thrill of the capture, and the inevitable tickling that came with being tied up. She had always been the one to suggest the games, the one eager to be the damsel in distress, bound and gagged, her laughter ringing through the air as her captors tried to extract secrets or just hear her squeal. But she had often been the interrogator too. Her fingers learningbthe skills she now put to work on her son.
A warm nostalgia washed over her as she thought of the simple joys of those days. The smell of freshly cut grass, the feel of the sun on her skin, and the earth under her bare feet, and the camaraderie that came with sharing an adventure. It was a world of innocence, where fears were conquered with a giggle and a wink. And now, here she was, bringing that same joy to her own son.

Julie felt a sudden urge to capture this moment, to join James in his bound state. She had never felt a desire like this before, but there was something about the power dynamics of the situation that intrigued her. She wondered if it was the stress of adulthood, the need to feel vulnerable and free again, or perhaps just the thrill of reliving a piece of her past.
Julie stopped her assault, padded in her nylon Ed feet to the kitchen, poured a glass off chilled white wine and returned to her captive son. After sipping the wine she knelt beside him and slipped his blindfold off.

"Alright, James," she announced, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Your hour is up. I'm going to untie you now." She paused, watching him tense up, his eyes wide with excitement behind the blindfold. "But before I do, I want to ask you something." She took a sip of her wine, the cool liquid calming her nerves. "How would you feel about me being the one tied up next?"

James's muffled noises grew more frantic, and he nodded his head vigorously. The idea of being the one in control was thrilling. He watched, his eyes gleaming with excitement, as Julie set to work untying him. She was careful not to rip the tape off too quickly, peeling it away gently from his sticky, reddened lips. He took a deep breath, the cool air soothing his hot skin.
Once he was free, James jumped up from the chair, the thrill of the experience leaving him feeling exhilarated and slightly light-headed. He studied his mother, taking in her instructions about how he was to tie her up with the seriousness of a young knight preparing for battle. "Okay, Mom," he said, trying to mimic the calm authority she had shown earlier. "You're going to sit down, and I'll tie you up."

Julie nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. She sat down on the floor, her legs crossing at the ankles. She was still wearing her work white top and her short red skirt, the thick opaque black tights creating a stark contrast against the pale fabric. "Remember, James, not too tight," she reminded him, placing her hands behind her back.
James took the washing line in his small, eager hands and began to wind it around his mother's wrists, copying the pattern she had used on him. He felt a strange sense of power as he secured her in place, his knots tight but not painful. He looped the line around her waist and chest, creating a figure-eight pattern that cinched her in snugly, binding her arms to he’d back and sides. "Is that good?" he asked, his voice a mix of pride and uncertainty.

Julie nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She could feel the line digging in slightly, but the sensation was not unpleasant. It was a reminder of the trust she had placed in him, and she was surprised by how much she enjoyed the feeling of being restrained by her own son. "Almost," she said. "Now tie my ankles together, and make sure I can’t run, or hop away."
James took the washing line and carefully wrapped it around her ankles, feeling the smoothness of the tights under his fingertips. He pulled tight, ensuring she couldn’t easily escape, and then moved up to her knees, securing them together as well. His hands trembled slightly as he worked, the weight of his newfound authority both thrilling and a little overwhelming.
Julie felt the tension around her legs increase, and she took a deep breath.

"Very good James. But you don’t want me to scream for help do you?" she asked, her voice playfully mock-desperate. "What if I can't take it anymore?"

James grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don’t worry, Mom," he said, "I'll keep it safe." He picked up a clean scarf and held it to her mouth. "Open up." He was gentle as he pushed the fabric into her mouth, ensuring it was folded neatly to avoid any discomfort.

Julie complied, her heart racing as she felt the material fill her mouth. She knew it was all in good fun, but the reality of the situation was still a thrill she hadn’t anticipated. As she felt the tape stick to her skin, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in her stomach. The sound of the tape tearing filled the room, and she knew her fate was sealed.
With a final tug, James secured the scarf over her eyes, leaving her in darkness. She heard his footsteps retreating, the rustle of his T-shirt and the thump of his bare feet on the carpet as he moved away from her. She took a deep breath, the warmth of the blindfold enveloping her senses. The room around her was quiet, save for the distant hum of the TV and the sound of her own heart pounding in her chest.

Julie felt a sudden surge of vulnerability, a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she was a child playing the same games with her siblings. The carpet was soft but the floor unyielding under her, the ropes digging into her skin just enough to remind her that she was bound, but not so much that it hurt. She felt a strange thrill, a mix of excitement and apprehension, as she waited for James to begin his interrogation.




Julie sat in nervous anticipation wondering how the torture would start: tickling the soles of her feet, backs of her knees, her neck? She hoped her thick tights would give her some protection on her feet and legs but dreaded being tickled at the same time as looking forward to reliving her childhood games of tickle torture.

But instead there was no tickling. She heard James’ bare feet slap on the tiled hallway as he left her all alone tied up. She heard the fridge door open then a few minutes later James returned, she heard the hiss of a tin of pop being opened and rustle of crisp packet as the TV was switched on.

Julie felt a little disappointed. This was not the game she had in mind, she had been looking forward to some more mother-son bonding with a bit of innocent tickling. But she remained patient. The TV played out the theme tune to James’ favourite show, she knew it by heart. She heard him settle down on the sofa and start munching on his crisps, the sound of the chewing seemed so amplified as she sat motionless, blindfolded.

The sound of the crunching crisps and the TV laughter grew unbearable. She tried to wriggle out of her bonds, the rope was tight but not uncomfortable. She could smell the crisps, they were salt and vinegar, her favourite, and despite having already had dinner, She was surprised by how much she craved one.

Her mind raced, "what’s he doing not tickle torturing me?" she thought, "He’s ignoring me while l’m all tied up, unable to do anything but listen to the sounds around me." The realisation hit her, that James had turned the tables on her, that this was his idea of 'torture'. The more she thought about it, the more she felt the absurdity of her situation, the more she began to chuckle internally realising how clever James was.

The laugh track from the TV grew louder and more obnoxious with each passing moment. The crunch of his crisps and the occasional slurp from his drink echoed through the room. The sweet and tangy smell of the vinegar filled the air and her mouth began to water despite her gag. She tried to focus on her breathing, to ignore the tantalising sounds and smells, but it was a futile effort. The gag only served to amplify her own saliva and she felt a droplet form on her bottom lip, sliding down her chin and onto her neck.

As the show approached the commercial break, James grew more daring. He got off the sofa and tiptoed over to her, his bare feet making no sound on the thick carpet. She could feel his presence before she heard the rustle of the crisp packet. He stopped just in front of her and she braced herself for the inevitable tickle assault, but it didn't come. Instead, she heard the crunch of a crisp right beside her ear, and she felt the crumbs shower down on her like a tiny avalanche of salt. A giggle escaped her, which grew into a full-blown laugh, muffled by the gag.

James decided to up the ante. He waved the crisps under her nose, allowing the potent aroma to tickle her nostrils. She could smell the beautiful tang as they danced just out of reach. The smell of the vinegar was overpowering, and her mouth watered in response. The laughter from the show was replaced by her own muffled protests and moans as she squirmed in her binds, desperately trying to capture the delicious smell. She could feel her stomach rumble and she wished she had eaten more before this little game had begun, her diet plan lost in the moment.

He took another crisp and popped it into his mouth, the sound of his chewing driving her mad. "Whacks the matter, mum?" James teased, his mouth full of crisp crumbs, his voice taunting her. "You can't be hungry after dinner, can you?"

Julie felt a sudden pang of hunger, and she squirmed even more, trying to get closer to the crisps. But James was quick, moving away from her just as she thought she could feel the crunch of a crumb landing on her nose. The sound of the TV grew distant as she focused solely on the crisps, her nostrils flaring as she tried to get a whiff of them.

"Oh, you think you're so smart," she thought, trying to keep her cool. But her stomach had other ideas, sending a loud growl echoing through the room. James's footsteps grew fainter as he moved into the kitchen again. This time, she heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, followed by a metallic clinking. "What's he up to now?" she wondered, her heart racing slightly. The suspense was killing her, and she had to admit, she was enjoying the thrill of it. The sound of his returning footsteps grew closer, and she felt his face besides her head "Your tights are too thick to tickle through, mum," James whispered in her ear, his voice full of mischief. "But I had to find another way to torture you."

Julie felt a soft rubbery object slip into both of her ears, and before she could react, a soft sound filled her headphones. It was the inescapable tune of "Baby Shark". She groaned, trying to pull her head away, but the ear buds were firmly in place. James had played this trick before, looping the most annoying songs he could find. She had never expected it would be her turn to endure it tied up and helpless.

The catchy melody played on, each repetition more grating than the last. It was a torture she hadn’t anticipated, a psychological game that was wearing her down more than any physical tickling could. She tried to think of anything else, to distract herself from the relentless loop, but the song wormed its way into every corner of her mind. She could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.

Julie’s body jerked as James’s fingers grazed her cheek, a hint of the tickling to come. But the touch was fleeting, and the song continued its incessant loop. The gag prevented her from pleading for mercy, but she was sure her struggles and groans conveyed the message. The TV show had long since finished, but James remained steadfast in his mission, watching something new, something she couldn’t hear over the maddening jingle in her ears whilst the scent of her favourite crisps taunted her nose.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The rope bit into her wrists and ankles, a gentle reminder that she was still very much at her son’s mercy. She could feel her skin growing hot, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The white noise of "Baby Shark" filled her senses, blocking out any attempt to think of anything else. The room spun slightly with the repetition, and she was surprised she hadn’t gone mad already.

But James wasn’t done yet. The smell of something new hit her nose. She sniffed the air and caught a whiff of chocolate ice cream. It was faint at first, but grew stronger as James moved closer. He had switched from crisps to ice cream , and now it was just out of her reach. The sweetness mingled with the lingering vinegar scent, a strange and tormenting combination.
Julie felt the coldness of the ice cream as James smudged a small amount on her cheek. She squirmed, trying to shake it off, wishing she could stick her tongue out and lick it, but the gag kept her jaw clamped shut. She could feel the stickiness spreading, the chill of the treat against her warm skin. The sensation was maddening. It was all she could focus on, the coldness and the sweetness, so close yet so far. Her taste buds screamed for the chocolate delight, her stomach protesting its perceived empty state despite having had a full meal.

James chuckled as he watched her, enjoying the sight of his mother's torment. He took a spoonful and brought it closer to her nose, allowing the aroma to waft into her nostrils. The scent was heavenly, a rich, sweet cocoa that seemed to dance with the lingering smell of the crisps. Her mouth watered uncontrollably, and she felt the saliva pooling under the gag.
Julie’s mind was racing. The sweetness of the chocolate was almost too much to bear, but she knew she had to keep it together. She couldn’t let him win this round, but the temptation was overwhelming. The rubbery earbuds in her ears pumped the obnoxious tune of "Baby Shark" over and over again, while the ice cream remained just out of reach, a cold, sweet taunt against her hot, sticky skin.

James leaned in closer, his breath warm and minty as he whispered, "Do you want some mum?” His voice was filled with gleeful malice, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of his power play. He held the spoonful of ice cream closer to her mouth, watching her head shake tongue in a futile attempt to get the gag out of her mouth and taste it. The coldness of the metal spoon against her cheek sent shivers down her spine, but she remained steadfast, refusing to give in to his game.
Julie felt a strange mix of emotions: a swell of pride for James’ cleverness, and his ingenuity of how to torment her; a twinge of fear at the realisation that she had raised such a sadistic child; and the overwhelming urge to burst into tears at her predicament. She had never felt so powerless, yet so alive in this strange game of cat and mouse they had stumbled into. Her breathing grew shallower as she tried to ignore the sweet torment that hovered just beyond her reach.

As the clock chimed 11 pm, the house grew quieter. The TV switched to the muted hum of the news, the blue glow of the screen the only light in the room. She could hear James’ gentle snores from the sofa, his head lolling to the side, his chin resting on his chest. He had finally fallen asleep, the spoon and half-eaten ice cream abandoned on the coffee table.
Julie took a deep breath and tried to wriggle round, her bound body protesting with every move. She stretched her legs out as far as they could go and with a surprising amount of effort, she managed to hook her toes around the edge of the sofa. Slowly, painfully, she inched closer, the cold metal of the earphones still playing the dreadful tune echoing in her skull.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt the cushion with her toes. She paused, trying to work out where James was sleeping. With one final push, she managed to poke him with the tip of her nylon covered toes. No response. She poked again, a little harder this time, and was met with a muffled grunt.

Julie felt a flicker of hope. Carefully, she worked her feet around to where his hand was resting on the arm of the sofa. With a gentle touch, she nudged his hand and tried to whisper through the gag. "James... James... wake up."
Her voice was muffled, but she heard a rustle, a yawn, and felt the pressure of his hand move slightly. "What is it, mum?" he mumbled sleepily.

Julie's eyes were blind the darkness of the scarf as she tried to search for any sign of him, her heart racing. She pushed against his hand with more insistence, her movements urgent. "Take...these...out!" she tried to say through the gag, her voice strained.
The song in her ears grew louder as she accidentally pushed the volume button on the phone, and she winced, the high pitched melody piercing through the fog of her thoughts. She could feel the stickiness of the ice cream on her cheek, now mixing with her sweat and the fabric of her blindfold.

Julie's movements grew more insistent, her toes tapping out a silent SOS on James's palm. He stirred, his hand moving slightly under her touch. She tried again, whispering louder, "Please, James, take it out!"

James sat up with a jolt, the roughness of his mother's toes on his face snapping him out of his sleep. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, looking around the room with confusion. The sight of his mother, bound and blindfolded on the floor, brought back a rush of memories of their earlier game. He chuckled, his laughter muffled by his own tiredness.

"Oh, Mum," he said, rubbing his eyes, "You're still here." He stumbled over to the side table and picked up the phone, turning off the dreaded tune that had been playing for hours. The sudden silence was like a balm to her frazzled nerves. She heard him yawn and stretch his arms out wide before he approached her with a grin.

"I guess I fell asleep," James said, his voice filled with genuine surprise. He carefully removed the earphones, the cold metal feeling like ice against her overheated skin. The stickiness of the melted ice cream made her cringe as it was peeled away from her cheek. "You're such a good sport, Mum," he chuckled as he untied the knots around her wrists. The rope felt like it was burning her skin as the blood rushed back in.

Julie couldn’t be cross, not really. She had agreed to this, and she knew that James was just giving her a taste of her own medicine. She had spent hours tickling him senseless, after all. But she had not anticipated the psychological torment of being ignored, teased with food, and having "Baby Shark" stuck in her head. As the gag was removed, she took a deep breath, the cool air a sweet relief after the warmth and stickiness that had engulfed her mouth.

"You're a little rascal," she managed to say with a chuckle, her voice hoarse from the gag. James grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But you're not so bad at this either," he said, patting her on the head as if she were the one who had just played a clever trick. She playfully swiped at him, and he giggled, ducking out of her reach.

The ropes fell away from her ankles, and she felt the sweet release of circulation returning to her feet. She wiggled her toes, feeling the fabric of her thick tights stick to her skin. Despite the discomfort, she couldn’t help but appreciate the cleverness of her son’s tactics. He had taken her own playful aggression and turned it into a masterclass in psychological warfare. She had to admit, she had never felt so alive and so utterly at the mercy of someone else’s whims.

Julie took a moment to breathe deeply, the smell of the chocolate ice cream still lingering in the air. She felt a pang of regret that she hadn’t gotten to taste it, but she knew that was part of the game. James had learned from her, and she was proud of the cunning mind he was developing. He had managed to keep her guessing and on edge for hours, and she had to hand it to him; he had outplayed her.

“When can we play this again?”

[milagros317]

I hope that you will post a round two for James and Julie, perhaps a week or two later.

[Mommy's Naughty Boy]

Second that!

[vaddoc2001]

Interesting story. Continue, please.

[Tiengag5]

Great mom son bondage.

[hafnermg]

Great story!! I hope we get to see more of these two!!

[lilshinefan]

wonderful stuff

[Boocola]

Excellent