School uniform home invasion

[TuggyBoundMale]

Alright, my idea is pretty simple. A 11-13 year old boy is coming home from school, still wearing his school uniform. Unfortunately, he walks in to a female escaped convict rummaging through/robbing the house. No one else is home and the woman decides to go safe and ties him up and gags him.

I sincerely hope someone's gonna answer to this reuqest. If so, message me so we can talk about the details

[60Cancer]

There are several possibilities here. The villainess can kidnap the boy for ransom.

[johopp]

Or the burglar doesn't find the valuables and waits with the tied boy until his mother and sister come home, which will be in a few hours.

[TuggyBoundMale]

Both nice options

[johopp]

Continuation of my suggestion:

If the burglar is mean, the moment he hears the key in the front door, he presses a gun into the ribs of the bound and gagged boy (who might go by the name Tuggymale ), forcing the mother to tie up her daughter first and then herself.

If the burglar is nice, he sells the whole thing to the two ladies as a harmless game, which the daughter, in particular, is eager to play along with and willingly let herself be tied up.

Or a mixture: Only the daughter thinks it's a harmless game, while the son and mother recognize the seriousness of the situation but want to make it seem like a harmless game to the daughter.

If you want to write this story, (perhaps from your perspective, that of the son ), I Would be curious which one you might choose, @TuggyBoundMale...

[TuggyBoundMale]

Continuation of my suggestion:

If the burglar is mean, the moment he hears the key in the front door, he presses a gun into the ribs of the bound and gagged boy (who might go by the name Tuggymale ), forcing the mother to tie up her daughter first and then herself.

If the burglar is nice, he sells the whole thing to the two ladies as a harmless game, which the daughter, in particular, is eager to play along with and willingly let herself be tied up.

Or a mixture: Only the daughter thinks it's a harmless game, while the son and mother recognize the seriousness of the situation but want to make it seem like a harmless game to the daughter.

If you want to write this story, (perhaps from your perspective, that of the son ), I Would be curious which one you might choose, @TuggyBoundMale...

Well, I think it entirely depends on the age of the daughter, right? Mixed would be my favorite, but the daughter would have to be younger than the son for that

(But please make a real name for the protagonist, I‘m not a huge fan of the name on this website being used as a name in the story, just so you know )

[johopp]

I just wrote my version here:

https://tugstories.blog/viewtopic.php?t ... c32941dcfc

[johopp]

Just added part 2

[Bondageboi]

Try thus one

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet suburban street. Thirteen-year-old Timmy Harris trudged home from school, the weight of his backpack digging into his shoulders. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts: the math test he'd barely scraped by on, the soccer tryouts next week, and the unfinished science fair project waiting for him in the cluttered garage. The last thing he expected to find was trouble, especially not in the form of a stranger in his own home.

As Timmy pushed open the door, the faint sound of rustling papers and muffled curses echoed through the hallway. His heart skipped a beat as he stepped inside, immediately spotting the unfamiliar boots protruding from the living room. Frozen in place, he took in the scene before him: a woman, clad in a torn prison jumpsuit, knelt beside the overturned couch, her back to the doorway. She was frantically searching through the cushions, her wild hair a stark contrast against the beige fabric. Timmy's eyes widened in terror, his breath catching in his throat.

The convict, sensing his presence, spun around, her eyes narrowing in on him like a predator spotting its prey. She was tall and muscular, with a tattoo snaking up her neck and a look that told him she wasn't someone to be trifled with. Without a word, she lunged forward, her movements swift and deliberate. Timmy's instincts took over, and he bolted, sprinting down the hallway, adrenaline pumping through his veins. But his legs were no match for the woman's long strides; she caught him with ease, her arms wrapping around him like steel bars.

"Looks like you're home early," she sneered, her hot breath tickling his ear. She dragged him back to the living room, her grip unyielding. Timmy's thoughts raced as he scanned the room for anything he could use to escape. His eyes fell upon the coffee table, and the glint of the letter opener his mother used to pry open the mail. He knew he had to act fast.

With a quick jerk of his body, he tried to break free, but she was too strong. "Don't make this hard for yourself, kid," she warned, tightening her hold.

Ignoring his struggling, the woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick coil of rope. She began to tie him up with a proficiency that suggested she'd done this before, looping the rough fibers around his wrists and ankles until they were bound tightly together. Each knot was a silent testament to the desperation in his chest, each pull of the rope a little tighter than the last. Timmy's mind raced as he watched her work, trying to think of any way out of this dire situation. But every move he considered was swiftly dismissed; she was too vigilant, too experienced.

Once she had his arms and legs secured, she proceeded to tie his elbows and knees together, bending him into an uncomfortable pretzel. The ropes bit into his skin, making it difficult to find any semblance of comfort. She then removed his shoes and socks, balling his sweaty school socks up before shoving them into his mouth before wrapping tape around his head and over his lips. The taste of sweat and fabric filled his senses, muffling his cries for help.

Her gaze fell upon Timmy's school shoes and she smirked, pulling a shoe lace free with surprising gentleness. "This'll keep you from running," she murmured, almost to herself. With a deftness that belied her brusque exterior, she took the lace and wrapped it around his big toes, pulling them tightly together until they were bound snugly. The sensation was strange and painful, making it near impossible for him to even wiggle his feet.

"Now we just wait for that bitch lawyer of your mother to get home," she said with a chuckle, turning away and resuming her search, her footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. Timmy's mind raced as the gravity of the situation settled upon him.

The woman paused at the sight of a family portrait on the wall, a twisted smile playing on her lips. "Your mom's got quite the taste in decor," she mused, her eyes lingering on the smiling faces captured in the frame. Timmy felt a surge of anger and fear, his eyes darting to the clock on the mantelpiece. If he knew his mother's schedule, she'd be home in less than an hour, and this woman had no intention of letting him go before she returned.

After about half an hour, the woman's footsteps grew heavy again as she approached Timmy, who was now lying in a puddle of his own sweat and fear. Her expression was unreadable as she assessed him, and for a moment he allowed himself to hope she might have changed her mind. But instead, she crouched beside him, her calloused hands reaching for the knots she had tied so expertly. "Looks like you're still in one piece," she said, her tone devoid of any genuine concern. "Let's make sure you stay that way. And I have a game to,
play while we wait for mummy.”

She sat down in front of him, then took off her own boots and socks, revealing dirty, cracked feet. The stench was overwhelming. "This little game is called “Guess the smell of my feet."

Timmy's stomach churned as she brought her bare foot closer to his face. "C'mon, this'll be fun," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and malice. He squirmed under her foot, trying to keep his breath through his nose, but it was no use. The smell was pungent, a mix of sweat, dirt, and something vaguely metallic.

"Let's start with the right one," she announced, pressing her foot firmly against his nose and cheeks. Timmy's eyes watered as she began to wiggle her toes, smearing the grime from her soles across his face. The woman giggled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "What do you think? Did I step in something good today?"

[TuggyBoundMale]

That’s amazing

Ngl, I‘d love to see this as a full on story haha