Tau Iota Epsilon: The Escapist Versus Rope
Friday, December 04, 2015
TIE Constitution:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vSx ... sp=sharing
TIE Handbook:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/10_O ... sp=sharing
An award? For escaping something out of this world difficult? This was my cup of tea—if only I drank tea. This was Tau Iota Epsilon's test of a new honorific: Mistress of the Escape. I actually blushed when they explained it to me, and to make things more interesting this was part of a demonstration as part of TIE's Level 4 workshop. Count me in! Right?!
Level 4 training in Tau Iota Epsilon taught the proper use of techniques for several positions and items that required a bit more experience, usually occurring at the end of the third semester, or at least that was the ideal goal, so that a girl would be considered "fully trained" by the end of her sophomore year. These items and concepts included: jute, leather body harnesses, armbinders, sisal rope, earplugs for sensory deprivation, bondage hoods, use of silence or sound for further sensory deprivation, the use of vibration, nipple clamps, use of paddles, dangers of effigies of manhood, and crossed prayer and strappado positions. That's why Friday night was chosen to be the night for this workshop! We were going to be very busy at this gathering.
However, two demonstration subjects were needed because I was going to be gradually bound so I could perform my escape quest as well. That's right, this story is part demonstration with me as a demonstration subject and then me trying to bust out of the ropes. For the other part, we had an absolute bondage bunny, Maria Benedetti, be the demonstration subject. Maria was completely a bunny, to the extent that TIE had a title, Baby Sister which meant she was preferentially a captive during games both in her home and within TIE as a whole.
Who leads the workshop? Why a Rope Mistress, of course! There were just three girls in TIE who held this prestigious title: Skylar Stevens, Chloe Metz, and Brittany Fischer. Chloe and Brittany were the ones in charge of this session, and Chloe pulled out the dominatrix flair for the session while Brittany pulled out the head mistress flair. They made one intimidating duo.
"Let's start with the pink elephant in the room: d-cks," Brittany smiled, "See what I did there?"
"That's racist," Chloe deadpanned with a haughty gaze, "Don't you dare ask me how I know."
"All right," Britt didn't miss a beat, "Quarterback, running back, wide receiver, tight end, or left wing? Don't lie to us, girl. We know all five of those gents have been seen on dates with you."
"Only one of those five gentlemen is black," Chloe then flashed a middle finger at Brittany.
"I am going to object and say two of those men are well-hung douches," Maria interjected.
"BAAAAAAHHH HAAHHH HAAAHHH HAAAHHH!" we all laughed with Maria at that.
Chloe had the dominatrix style with a cowgirl splash. A black denim knee skirt, black knee-high cowboy boots, and a pink polo commanded her full attention from all in the room. She had dirty blonde hair that came to the base of her shoulder blades and friendly brown eyes. She may have been a true dominatrix with no submissive leanings, but she was a friendly one for sure. Being 5' 9" and a real Oklahoma ranch girl helped a lot to project this aura of strength.
On the other hand, Brittany was dressed for the weather first and foremost since it was December in Minnesota. The black slacks and teal TIE t-shirt with yellow lettering made it feel more like a classroom lecture from a professor with a sense of school pride, especially with the clacking teal pumps she wore. At 5' 6", it gave her a sense of control that overcame her frailty. The shoulder length mahogany hair and brown eyes made her look obsolete.
"Addressing the white elephant in the room," Brittany resumed with a smile, "Some of us in this sorority enjoy the sensations associated with men, no offenses to the asexuals and lesbians in the room, but there are dangers with using dildos in games. If the object is too long, too rough or abrasively used, pushed into the body the wrong way, it's game over for you. Some of us here in this room enjoy them, but TIE does not sanction their use during any club activities. For further lessons, please see me, Chloe, or Dana in private because we all own and use them."
"Ooh, ooh, pick me!" Maria betrayed her own passion for having the devices used on her.
After much pressure from my many friends in attendance, including my roommates and the girls from our new TIE chapter at the University of Minnesota who were my fellow bondage models, I had dressed in a mixed TIE and Cool Girls' Club ascetic to demonstrate my dual allegiance to a pair of similar but differing causes that both brought a sense of belonging and sisterhood. I had a purple bandana headband, a yellow TIE t-shirt with teal lettering and a purple turtleneck under it, a pair of teal leggings, a pair of yellow socks, and purple canvas sneakers. Not shabby for a nerd with shoulder length brown-blonde hair, hazel-green eyes, and glasses. After all, I stood at only 5' 4"! A colorful phase of my life! Oh, I wish I'd cherished my friends even more than I did.
There was quite a crowd in the room. We had the girls taking lessons but there were many of our TIE sisters in attendance as well as many Cool Girls because they were hoping to see me succeed in my quest to become the first ever Mistress of the Escape. So strong was the interest in my quest that we actually booked one of the more off-the-beaten-path classrooms for this night.
Maria, ever the mix of rope bunny and comedienne, had thin camouflage knee socks, black gym shorts, a camo sports bra, a camo bandana headband, and black combat boots. She didn't like to say "Weaponize my outfit" with words too much, but you'll be unsurprised to learn that she loves a dirty laundry gag as much as anybody else and, like many rope bunnies, enjoys fighting to keep out of bondage and being punished for causing trouble as much as the actual captivity. That dark brown hair was curly but not very bouncy, her brown eyes were friendly, and her Mediterranean skin complexion was quite the match to ensure she looked as Italian as she possibly could look.
Maria then found herself becoming a demonstration toy for the proper use of an armbinder. Britt put Maria's arms into the leather device and laced it up tight, since the blue armbinder was one of the kinds Melissa Roberts uses with the shoulder straps and the black lacing and all that. For the girl in military colors, a military strict binding. In a matter of minutes, black parachute cords had lined her legs merely to hold her prisoner while Brittany smirked and removed Maria's socks.
"Now, when you wish to stuff the socks in the mouth and have a captive who's moving around so much that you can't get her," Brittany said just as Maria jumped to her feet and hopped away, "A good idea once you have the slow, helpless wench in the corner is to grab her by her bonds." The mistress approached Maria, who had hopped up the stairs to the back row of seats and wrapped a hand inextricably around the armbinder's straps. "Now, she can't run away with knocking both of us down to the floor. Watch me carefully." Brittany then pushed Maria on a chair, sat on her lap, pinched her nose shut with one hand, and used the other hand to push the socks into her mouth in a true show of domination, "Now, since Maria can handle it, "I'm going to wrap her face with my trust brown packing tape because it also happens to be her favorite kind of adhesive."
"With that complete, I will demonstrate now how to use a body harness." Brittany took the large leather harness put it onto Maria's body, loosely securing each of the straps to ensure it stayed in place before she bared Maria's breasts. Only then did Britt tighten all of the straps; and, man, did she tighten some of them, especially the crotch strap. She did not, however, use the harness for a restraint of Maria's arms. No, instead, she made use of the railing along the stairs, going down to the other side of the stairs on the flat ground, running a rope from the base of the armbinder near Maria's hands up to the rail and down to the top of the arminder for a strict, effective strappado.
"We will leave Maria to suffer while Joyce first allows Chloe to use her to demonstrate other new techniques for you. Take it away, Mrs. I-Let-Well-Hung-Running-Backs-Hump-Me!"
"Tomorrow night," Chloe again waved her middle finger, "revenge will pound your p-ssy dry!"
"Oh, Lawd, here we go!" I hate to name minor observers, but Destiny Reilly does have charm.
"All right, Chloe," I was much more respectful, "I'm ready to endure a sisal rope challenge."
"Good, because you're in for all the other effects that Brittany didn't already demonstrate," Chloe took me by the arm and pushed me as if a prisoner headed to the execution scaffolding, "March!"
"Look, Chloe, if you're going to use a hood on me, does that mean…," I gulped, "Socks?"
"Unless you withdraw your consent for me to use your own socks against you. Intensity."
"Oh, come on, Joyce!" another of my friends cheered me on, "It'll motivate you to succeed!"
"OK, but make it an experience I won't forget. Here's my phone," I gave Chloe my trust, "Let's do the gaiter trick this time so that I have a couple of minutes before the gag hits me."
Sisal rope is no laughing matter, especially not the brutal, dry-treated version that Chloe liked to use on her captives. Even the fluorescent pink rope that was dyed and marked especially for use as a bare-skin crotch rope was scratchy and irritating, and her collection was good for leaving an individual red for hours or days afterwards. With a huge gulp, I pulled a teal paisley gaiter over my head and down to my neck since I was going to be hooded. The hood could be laced around the knot of my bandana to reduce the pressure, especially with Chloe in control.
One rule that I had accepted was that I would be Chloe's plaything for as long as she desired, up to 3 hours, if I failed to escape in time, unless of course I used a signal to tap out. That meant a long night, a longer 3 hours than if I were the captive of anyone else, and Chloe had already said, albeit in a teasing manner, that she'd subject me to bare bottom spanking. I really wanted to win! I'm a lover of bondage, but I most definitely prefer tickling over spanking any day of the week.
"Now, sisal can cut and bite, so you must be careful with it," Chloe started, and then I tuned her out to focus my mind on my upcoming quest, feeling my palms get wet as I started sweating. I sat down on the classroom's desk and again gulped, bullets of sweat dripping off me. Then came the sisal. The first piece of the rope formed a tight, biting demonstration of how to use this rope on the legs. Chloe went up my legs: ankles, shins, below my knees, above my knees, and below my waist. Even with my leggings, I could feel a slight scratch from the material. Normally, I'm cool as a cucumber, but being here so people could watch me try to escape made it different.
Finally, it was time for my arms and torso to be bound. Despite the leg bondage, I easily jumped off the desk and stood up on the floor with a smile and exaggerated arm motions. I had found the comfort zone I needed to find if I were to succeed. Thankfully, I'm a tough girl despite being one of the smaller girls overall, and I took the brutal crossed prayer position like a champion.
Crossed prayer is like reverse prayer with your wrists crossed over one another instead of having the palms forced together. It's still stringent, but it's attainable by many more girls than a classic reverse prayer pose. Now, the ropes are really biting into me because of the combined pressures of the position and the harsh rope. Chloe bared my breasts; I'd gone commando just for it. Ha!
With gritted teeth, I accepted Chloe's detailed, restrictive, objectifying, and crushing sisal harness that wrapped around, above, and below my breasts, cinched between my arms and my chest, and further squeezed my arms against my back. It was harsh, but it was nothing compared to having a double crotch rope made out of the very long, neon pink piece of sisal. One crotch rope ripped through me under my panties; one went over my leggings; both were worked into my torso.
"Are you still OK?" Chloe asked me, demonstrating one of the most important rules of all by it.
"Yeah, I am. Are we still one for the gaiter trick?" I asked about the gag to distract myself.
"If you're still game for it, I'll do it. I just feel like the intensity…," she paused to let me decide.
"No, no," I took a deep breath, "It makes sense to me. Do it wordlessly and dominantly."
"OK, then," she said, and professionally removed my sneakers and my socks.
One of my favorite TIE-developed techniques is the gaiter trick. This one was created by Chloe and I after much thought over the question "How to combine stuffed gags with hoods safely?" I looked at my sorority sisters and wiggled my eyebrows before Chloe pulled the gaiter up to hide my face from my forehead to my neck. As you can see, the gaiter stopped me from swallowing the socks. Chloe, however, wanted this to be thorough, sweaty, and trying for me.
Into my ears went my wireless earbuds and cotton balls. Yellow vet wrap brutally wrapped my face and around my and the top of my head. Over all that, Chloe pulled a leather hood, one with a slot for the eyes and mouth. Each part of the lacing was done carefully so the hood hugged my head as closely as possible. Despite all the layers, that teal paisley could be seen via the slot and the excess gaiter fabric around my nose along with bits of yellow. Light passes the gaiter, but my vision was fully obscured so that it was effectively a blindfold under these circumstances.
My saliva slowly soaked into the gaiter, and I knew just beyond it lay my socks. I felt the unique sensation of a wand getting affixed to my crotch, and I anticipated orgasming at least twice over the next 45 minutes which was my allotted time to escape this, as chosen by the Level 5 sisters in TIE. After the wand was affixed, I felt that distinctive, painful pinch of alligator clip style nipple clamps, and I let out a hard, pained "GMMMMMPHHH!" into my gag because of it.
Chloe laid me on my side on the desk before she wrapped even more sisal rope around my neck, thighs, and chest, forcing me into a complicated, stringent, restrictive ball tie position. As if this wasn't enough, she completed the ball tie with the rope from my ankles to my wrists. Worse, she even broke out a piece of twine and tied my big toes together. This was serious business, but the most impressive part of all was that I had escaped the seemingly inescapable in the past. Chloe gave me a duet of pats on the butt—the signal that meant it was my time to dominate the stage.
"GMMMMPHHHH!" I groaned loudly and felt the first assaults of my socks on my tongue.
I was trapped inside my own mind with the earbuds separating me from the world. To outsiders, it was sensory deprivation; for me, it was the ability to concentrate. I knew Mozart very well, so that made this a personal timer. Everyone thought I was on a clock I couldn't see, but I knew the time in my own head. This, however, wasn't the focus of my thoughts. Honestly, some girls hate the separation from the world, but it allowed me to think without hearing people's reactions.
Escaping was always at the fore of my mind. The intensity of the position didn't bother me quite like the sisal rope did. It was rough and unforgiving and biting. There was no mercy from such brutal material, and I felt more like a captive than I'd ever felt before. Since then, only twice did I feel more helpless than I did then. The first was the unforgettable night, only a year after this, when my then boyfriend violently bound me and repeatedly used my body for his pleasure. The second was during production of an intense bondage scene with my friends, when I was tied with parachute cord in an even more stringent position and secured to a metal grating. I unfortunately remember all three of these respective tales with lifelike clarity. Only one triggers me though.
"GMMMMPHHHH!" I yelled as a result of the pulsing and burning in my body from my climax. The resultant attempt to arch only led to the sisal digging into my body in a pleasing manner that I have to admit most likely meant that, despite the pain and the digging, I liked the rope. Even in 2025 when you're reading this, I'm blessed because Chloe is still local and still dominates each of her local friends with the sisal rope on occasion, especially on request.
Escaping is not a process that I can easily put into words. It's not purely physical; it's mental and exhausting sometimes. You sometimes have to struggle a lot just to determine where weaknesses lie in the ropework, and a sudden and strong climax like I experienced can distract you or, in the worst case, make you forget what you'd just done. The pulsing, burning, and excreting can be an incredible treat, though, especially when you then burn in frustration and grow in determination.
What a sight I must have been with a gaiter hiding my face despite the open faced hood that was over my head. The pressures and layers led me to sweat, heightening all of the sensations inside my head, including the sweaty, dirty socks in my mouth that tasted so strongly because my saliva had soaked through the gaiter. I sincerely hate dirty sock gags and how they taste, which is why I just as strongly allowed them to be used right now. In games with CGC friends and TIE sisters, I begrudgingly permit them to do it but prefer a ball gag or a cleave gag, with or without stuffing. Actually, yeah, I'd say a cleave gag with clean stuffing is my favorite overall even if it's too easy to spit out the socks. Oh, I can still remember my first dirty sock gag, in Girl Scouts, which was where I first got into TUGs. That's a different story from my youth, though.
"HMMMMMPH!" I collapsed in a panting, sweating ball while orgasming again. I could feel a distinct pattern in the wand, which told me Chloe had set it to irritate me as much as possible as I normally don't orgasm so easily. Challenge accepted. I struggled despite the heat and fought my sisal rope bondage as best as I could, successfully identifying the pattern of struggling that gave me the most motion despite the crossed prayer position behind my back and the biting harness.
My ears were filled with nothing but the sound of Mozart's Haffner Symphony. It started about 8 minutes into my struggle and was now near the end of the finale, which meant I had 17 minutes to still get out of this. More movement gave me a good idea of where things lay in the ropes, and I don't want to boast too much in saying I proceeded to demolish Chloe's work. There's much to that beyond simply untying ropes. There was no unknotting the ropes with my hands completely out of reach of every single rope. I had to fight in just the right way to loosen and loosen ropes.
"GMMMMMMMMM!" that sisal rope abraded my crotch in just the right way to be a true trial.
Only rough rope could get me to climax three times in 30 minutes because I routinely took 25 to 50 minutes to climax, depending on the circumstances. Squirming some more revealed that spot in the rope that I needed, and I grabbed that spot with my finger like my life counted on it. That was the magic trick, and I slowly figured out the right way to pull on the rope to make it loosen and not tighten. I was going to get out on my own, but was it going to be in time?
Never before or since did getting out of the ropes bring me such relief, although I later would be in a position where escaping was literally necessary to save my life. My wrists felt the rush of renewed blood flow, but I still had to escape the harness, the ball tie, and many other ropes. It was my choice of how to proceed, and a quick attempt to slough off the harness led to the most arousing feeling of sisal rope cutting into my torso, breasts, and crotch.
The layers of gag immersed me in the experience with the soaked teal paisley gaiter, my putrid socks, layers of yellow vet wrap, and the leather hood. I carefully picked at the knots and chose to savor the sensation in victory or defeat. Panic would only cause me to err and guarantee that I would suffer those consequences of being ruthlessly bound, humiliated, and spanked. When my sloughing did finally successfully remove the harness after I'd loosened the ropes, I felt relief of some foreign kind. I didn't know it yet, but I was experiencing subspace for the first time.
With satisfaction, I picked at the rope holding my chest in the ball tie. Honestly, part of me now wishes that it had been more private and that the entire scenario had been forced with a full scene for the capture and being stripped down to my panties, but that experience came many years after this. Instead, I found the freedom to sit up, and I began unlacing the hood to free my head, and I feel a rush of cool air upon removing that. The vet wrap was easy, and there was childish glee as I removed my socks from my mouth and pulled the gaiter down. Out with the cotton and my ear buds. Now, able to see and be seen, my disorientation and somewhat drunken state became quite apparent to all in the room. Even without my glasses I could tell this.
"Six minutes to go," Chloe said with a smile while I put on my glasses, "Congratulations, Joyce."
"Joyce Verdi, as President of Tau Iota Epsilon," Zoe approached me with a gift card, "It is my honor to confer the first ever title of 'Mistress of the Escape - Rope' upon you."
"Thank you so much!" I said, accepting the gift, "That was so much fun!" and then bowed to my audience, who loudly applauded and cheered, "Awwwwwwwww!" I blushed, "Thank you!"
What a journey it was. After this, TIE created more titles within the realm of Mistress of the Escape for girls who escaped rope, handcuffs, zip ties, tape, scarves, straitjackets, and chains. As crazy as it sounds, I actually completed all seven of the challenges. In the sweetest possible acknowledgment of that, TIE created the Joyce Verdi Trophy to bestow on girls who could successfully complete all these challenges, just like I did in 2015 to 2017. I'm glad that Chloe was the rigger in each and every single one of those examinations. Earning the last one of those titles was particularly poignant because it happened weeks after my mother died.
Thank you for joining on this quest. This is only the first of seven escape quests, and each one varied in intensity. I demolished one and nearly ran out of time on two of them. Each one had its own highlights and most exciting moments, and they were so much fun.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading this story. Sending you hugs!
Other TIE stories that we'd love to tell you. Post a comment if you favor any in particular!
- More Mistress of the Escape ribbons please!
- Game Night at the President's House
- Bring us inside the sorority rush booth!
- More training sessions please!
- Let's explore TIE's culture and rules some more!
- Laser Tag Bondage Party
