11 - Babysitting à la mode
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By Jon (McA)
Tie-up games became much less frequent for me when my friend Bob and his sister Jill moved away to another town when I was 12. However, there was a series of incidents from a period a little later than that. This is the first of them.
I am mindful of Gillian's references to stories 'awash with testosterone'. Given my age at the time, there are inevitably elements of dawning sexuality in this story, but I'll do my best to keep it suitable for a mixed audience.
I was about 13, maybe just turned 14, and this was late 1969 or early 1970. I wasn't often baby-sat, as my parents usually arranged for me to visit friends or neighbours instead. However, there was a period of a few months when they were attending frequent social functions out of town. These happened most weeks and always took place on a Friday. My parents sometimes returned late, but more often stayed overnight on these occasions, as transport was difficult. My regular babysitter during that period was the daughter of friends of my parents, who lived close by. I'll call her 'Susan' (not, of course, her real name). She was about 16, a bit of a tomboy, fun to be with and the subject of adoring puppy love from me.
On the evening this story starts, it wasn't the first time she had babysat me, but the first with interesting subject matter for this page. Most Fridays, we watched a detective programme on TV ('Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased)'), not much tying up, but I enjoyed the characters (one of whom was a ghost) and the storylines. During one episode, the female lead, who played the detectives' secretary, was tied up lying on a sofa. She was tied with men's neckties. Her wrists were tied in front of her and her ankles tied. She was gagged with a folded handkerchief pad over her mouth, held in place with a third tie. The storyline depended on her not being able to get away. I commented, 'That's silly, she could escape easily.' Susan didn't see how she could, but I insisted and tried to explain. 'You show me then,' she said finally. I agreed.
We substituted winter scarves for the neckties. (I told her that I had sometimes played tie-up games using scarves in the past.) I lay down on the sofa, and she tied me and gagged me as we had seen on TV. Now, the last time I had been tied up would have been at least a year previously, most probably by Bob or Jill. I have to admit that Susan's attentions were rather more exciting than I anticipated. I really enjoyed being tied up by Susan, but I tried not to let her realise just how much.
Anyway, the declared reason for this escapade was for me to demonstrate an escape. I simply reached up with my tied hands and pulled the gag out, then undid the knot on my wrists with my teeth; I was free in less than two minutes. 'Oh, I see,' said Susan, 'but you couldn't do that if I tied your hands behind your back.' Susan's tying of my wrists hadn't been very tight, so I suggested she try it (and it was a good excuse for some more attention). She duly re-tied me. The scarf round my wrists had just been wrapped round and knotted, not cinched, so I simply wriggled my hands out by brute force - still free in under two minutes. I sustained some abrasion in the process and pointed out to Susan that some wrist protection was a really good idea.
Susan was rather nonplussed. I suggested that I tie her hands and see if she could escape too. She put her gloves on to protect her wrists and held her hands out behind her. I put a tomfool knot into the scarf I was holding. (You can do that in about two seconds with practice; Gillian used to do a magic trick based on tying a 'bow' in a rope apparently instantly using this principle.) I popped the loops of the tomfool over her wrists, pulled hard and knotted the ends off with a reef knot (square knot). She hadn't seen what I had done and as far as she knew I had tied her wrists the same way she tied mine. (I didn't tie anything else, just wrists.) (My second discovery of the evening was that tying up Susan was more exciting than past experiences too.) She wriggled and struggled for about ten minutes before giving up. I untied her and she expressed surprise at the apparent impossibility of escape. She offered me a return match the following week and I agreed (trying not to sound too eager).
The next week, after tea, Susan reminded me of the proposed return match. She unpacked a pile of about six wool scarves out of her overnight bag. She tied my hands behind my back in exactly the same way that she had the previous week then tied the other scarves round me at ankles, knees waist and chest and finished off by cleave gagging me with a handkerchief. She looked pleased with the result. I was pleased with the result too, but the idea was to see if I could escape. The weak point was the wrist bond again; I got my hands free within little more than a minute as before. It took me longer to wriggle out of the scarves encircling me, but I was still free within about five minutes. Once again, I tied just her wrists behind her back. This time she struggled for nearly half an hour before asking me to free her. On departure, the next morning she whispered, 'Next week, you're for it!' 'Just try,' I said nonchalantly (while a little voice inside said, 'Yes, please').
The following Friday, Susan was late. Whenever this happened, my parents just left at their usual time, trusting Susan to turn up before too long. When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, I opened the door and found a banana pointing at my nose. 'This is a stick-up!' said Susan. She had dressed for the part too. She was wearing her coat, hat and scarf as usual, but the face in between was covered by a black nylon stocking. (I never found out whether she had put it on outside our door or worn it all the way from her home.) She continued to point the banana at my nose and ordered me into the house. 'This gun's loaded, and I know how to use it. Do as you're told and you won't get hurt,' she said in her best American gangster's moll accent. She gestured me into the sitting room and said, 'Don't move!' I stood still, admiring her performance and waiting for the next stage. She returned carrying a dining-room chair. She had taken her coat off, so I could see her burglar's outfit of black jeans and striped sweater, still with the stocking over her head but topped off with a small black wool cap.
The preparedness ran to more than just her costume. She unzipped her overnight bag and produced a pile of scarves, several pairs of her long hockey socks, a sheaf of handwritten notes and diagrams and a book about silent cinema serials (called 'Bound and Gagged', I think) with bookmarks stuck in it.
Susan took the two longest scarves, 8-foot-long monsters, and hitched one through the top rail of the chair back so the ends trailed down behind the chair. She threaded the other one through the chair back either side of the central vertical, so the ends ran forward across the chair seat and hung down in front.
'Sit!' she said, so I sat. She brought the ends of the long scarf attached to the top of the chair forward over my shoulders, crossing over in the middle of my chest, looped them round the sides of the chair back, finally knotting the ends together just below my sternum. The other scarf I was now sitting on, with the ends trailing down onto the floor between my legs. She took the ends out to the sides of the chair back, looped them through and knotted them off somewhere in the region of my belly button (putting some pressure in a rather intimate place in the process). My whole torso was firmly and completely immovably anchored to the chair. I was enjoying Susan's burglar act and I was enjoying being tied up by her, but I wasn't at all sure about letting her know just how much.
'Hands up!' said Susan (no banana to hand, so she just pointed a finger). I raised my arms and she pulled a sock over each hand, forcing my hands into fists. She then used more socks to tie my wrists to the chair arms and scarves to tie my arms at elbow level to the point where the chair arms joined the sides of the chair back.
Susan turned her attention to my legs next. The chair had bars between the legs forming a letter H shape in plan. She tied my legs together at ankle level and just above my knees with scarves. Next she pushed my feet over the central crossbar of the H, with the fronts of my ankles bearing against it and secured them there with another scarf.
'Open wide!' ordered Susan. I hesitantly opened my mouth a fraction. She stuffed a sock into my mouth and then used its partner to tie it in place.
Susan left the room at this point and returned a few moments later with the long wall mirror from the hallway, so I could study my predicament. Having given me a good look at myself, she blindfolded me with a scarf. I struggled for a few minutes but gave up - I was more thoroughly tied up than I ever had been before and could not get any useful leverage on any of my bonds or reach any knots. Nevertheless, I was enjoying the evening very much so far.
After what seemed like an eternity (probably only about an hour), Susan removed my gag and blindfold. She had taken off the stocking over her head by this time. Susan draped a teatowel across my chest and tucked it into my collar. She then proceeded to feed me my evening meal with a spoon, followed by a cup of tea with a straw. She carefully wiped my mouth and face, then re-applied the gag and blindfold. She kissed the end of my nose and said, 'Goodnight.' I could tell that she had switched the room light off. I had no idea what the time was and, much as I had enjoyed the evening up to that point, I was terrified at the prospect of spending the night tied to a chair (even by Susan). I struggled as hard as I could, but to no avail. After about ten minutes, Susan turned the light back on and removed my blindfold. 'Only kidding,' she said.
Susan untied me progressively, leaving my gag until last. I admitted defeat and ruefully congratulated Susan on her tying prowess. 'All down to proper research,' she said. It turned out that Susan had sought out all the mainstream books with bondage pictures in the public library and taken careful notes. She had also tried out elements of her proposed treatment of me on her younger sister. I think Susan's motivation was simply not to be bettered by any mere boy and she had therefore set out to acquire the necessary skills to defeat me - purely a matter of principle. I, on the other hand, had a whale of a time. I don't think she quite realised that at the time. There were further evenings with Susan; and there are a few more stories to tell.
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Jon (McA)'s stories
- 01 - Tying Up Jill (mmF/f)
- 02 - Tying Bob’s Mum (mm/F)
- 03 - Ambushing Mum (mff/F)
- 04 - Jill’s Revenge (mmF/f)
- 05 - Retribution (F/mmf)
- 06 - Ambuhing Jill (mmF/f)
- 07 - Games with Janet (mm/ff)
- 08 - A Knotty Problem (mff/self)
- 09 - Pot Boiler (f/m)
- 10 - Burglars (mf/mf)
- 11 - Babysitting à la mode (f/m)
- 12 - An Evening With Susan and Karen (mf/f)
- 13 - Susan gets her own back (f/fm)
- 14 - Revenge all round (ff/m, m/ff)
- 15 - Handcuffs for Two (mm/fF, Ff/mm)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section