01 - Summer
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By B.B.
Thursday, November 22nd 2001 - 10:07:22 PM
Summer
I've been enjoying this site for a while, so I guess it's time I revealed some of my youthful antics. Names and identifying details have been changed to protect my family.
This story happened one summer, when I was 16. Some relatives from Texas were staying at my aunt's house, so Mom volunteered a spare mattress we had in the attic. It was a twin, and wouldn't fit into our car, so I got a 50-foot roll of clothesline and tied it to the roof. I used my Swiss army knife and cut three 10-foot lengths. I tied two in front and one in the back, really cinching it tight. I had 20 feet left over, so I just threw it in the back seat in case of emergencies.
My sister Gretel wanted to see one of her Texas cousins, so she came along. She's 12. I hate it when cocks a princess attitude and acts like it's my mission in life to chauffeur her around, but since I had to make this run anyway, I figured, why not?
I drove over to my aunt's house and delivered the mattress. It turned out all the kids had gone into town to see to a movie, so Gretel decided to go back home with me rather than hang around and be bored by the adults. I threw all the rope in the back seat and we took off.
Gretel has long dark hair, brown eyes, and prominent cheekbones. Her chin is large. Masculine, like the exaggerated jaw you see on a cartoon superhero. Her nose is a little large too. But somehow it all comes together. She's definitely the cutest of my sisters. Of course I'm biased.
As I recall she was wearing green shorts and a white spaghetti top and sandals. I didn't like her sitting in the back seat, because when she does that it usually means she's going to go regal on me. But on that summer day she started playing with the rope. I didn't turn around, but I sneaked peeks in the rear-view mirror, and saw her wrapping it around her wrist and smiling.
"That was cool the way you tied the mattress to the roof," she said.
"Well, what else was I supposed to do with it? Drag it behind the car?"
Gretel giggled. "Too bad you can't tie me to the roof," she grinned. "It'd be a great way to get around town."
"Your hair would get full of bugs," I pointed out.
At a stop sign I looked back, and saw that my perverse little sister had actually tied the clothesline to her left wrist, and run a few loops around her right wrist. She had that shy but sly expression I knew all too well from our tie-up games. Obviously she was imagining a ropey scenario. We had done pirates and bank robbers and girl detective; she could be remembering one of those. Or maybe the sight of the white cord had triggered something new.
Did I mention we lived in the country? I turned down a side road, ran a quarter mile, then turned into a gravel road that ran deep into someone's corn field. The corn was so high we couldn't be seen from the main road, and the chances of someone coming along the side road were remote.
"Where are you going?" Gretel asked.
I stopped the car and turned around. "Want to play a tie-up game?"
"Out here?"
"Why not? Would you rather go home and watch TV?"
She didn't say anything. She just held out her bound wrists and smiled. That's what comes from being a farm kid, I guess. You learn to make your own entertainment.
I climbed in the back seat and untied her wrists. Being a well-trained little sister she immediately crossed them behind her back. But this time I had something different in mind. I had her lie face down on the seat and put her arms behind her back. Kneeling on the transmission hump, I arranged her forearms parallel to each other, so each hand was near the opposite elbow, and then carefully wound them with rope, tying a knot every few inches. I used two 10-foot pieces of rope. I made the ropes snug enough that she couldn't pull free, and put the knots were where her fingers couldn't reach. Gretel craned her neck and tried to peer over her shoulder, trying to see what I was doing.
"OK. Sit up."
She obeyed, grinning. She really liked being my captive. I never felt like I was taking advantage of her or anything. We had joked about her being a slave in a previous life.
Next I looped a piece of rope around her legs, just above the knees, and cinched it tight. Then I did the same thing to her ankles. (After taking off her sandals, so she was barefoot.) Her feet were so small and delicate it was always a pleasure to look at them as I tied her ankles. Her toenails were painted red. After I tied her ankles I scooted her over to the right side of the rear seat and snapped the seat belt into place. Of course I tightened it as much as I could, both the lap belt and the over-the-shoulder strap.
"This is awesome," Gretel said, eyes shining. She wiggled around, but couldn't move very much. Her arms were up so high on her back that she couldn't even get her fingers to the latch of the seat belt.
Being a thorough big brother, I tied her bound ankles to the metal rail at the bottom of the shotgun seat. Then I looked her over. She was completely helpless. And the cool thing was, you couldn't tell her arms were tied. Except for the rope at her knees and ankles she could have been a girl out for a normal boring drive. She looked down at her knees, pinned together by symmetrical lines of rope, and smiled.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"I was hitchhiking, and a criminal picked me up. You're kidnapping me and taking me to your hideout."
Such a lurid imagination for a sixth grader! I had been planning on just sitting there in the corn field, enjoying watching her struggle, but her words gave me an exciting new idea.
I checked the trunk, which, being a farmer's car, was crammed with all sorts of junk. I selected two: someone's spare T-shirt and a dust mask.
She couldn't see what I was doing, and that made her nervous. "Billy? Billy?" she called.
The T-shirt was reasonably clean, so I cut off a long strip around the waist with my knife. I stepped back up to the open door. As soon as Gretel saw that cloth in my hand she knew she was going to be gagged. She liked being gagged but she always pretended to fight it. In games at home she would say "Help, help!" in a normal or quiet voice, but out in the corn field I guess she figured no one would hear us, so she started bellowing. "HELP! HELP! I'M BEING KIDNAPPED!" She also jerked her head from side to side and front and back and generally gave me a hard time.
But I persevered, and finally got the stretchy cotton between her lips. It was long enough to loop around twice. Before I tied it I pulled her long hair out from under and arranged it so it covered the gag on the sides and back. Gretel glared at me and made mumbling sounds, but overall she seemed pleased that the game was on track.
Then I sprang a surprise. I put the dust mask over her face so it covered the gag in front. It was the blue 3M type, consisting of a porous paper filter and an elastic band that goes around your head. It's worn by people who are allergic to corn pollen or sensitive to the chemicals we use on the fields. (Any of you city slickers who think rural life means clean air are in for a big surprise if you come to the Midwest in summer.) I hated covering her gagged mouth, because I liked the bright white cloth digging into her tanned cheeks, liked watching her teeth chew on the cloth, but it was essential for the next stage of my plan.
Now that my sister was bound and gagged and completely helpless, I closed all of the doors and turned on the ignition and started back along the gravel road.
At first she didn't realize what was happening. She just sat there, gazing out into the field. Then we came to the side road, and I pulled out of the corn field. Glancing in the rear view mirror, I could see Gretel's brown eyes darting from side to side. We came to the main road, and I stopped at the sign.
"LLLLEEEE! WWWWTTTTT RRRRR UUUU DDDNNN?"
"Just going for a little drive."
"NNNNN!" She bounced up and down in frustration.
A truck zoomed by. I crept forward enough to make sure the road was clear, then pulled out and quickly accelerated. I followed the truck, matching his speed, but staying a quarter mile back. There was no other traffic in sight.
"LLLEEE! ET MMEE GGGO!" Gretel squirmed and struggled.
"Relax," I said. "Anyone who passes us from ahead is going to flash by so fast they won't even notice you. Anyone who passes us from behind will be concentrating on the road ahead, not looking in the back seat. Even if he does, he'll see a girl wearing a dust mask. Perfectly normal, wouldn't you say? Ooops. I forgot. You can't say!" I chortled at my witticism.
After contorting like mad, Gretel finally managed to hunch her shoulder down and to the side and get her fingers on the seat belt latch. But then I guess she realized that even if she did release it, she would still be tied up, so what was the point? She straightened up and let her head slump back against the seat.
I cruised along, no particular destination in mind, just trying to avoid towns and stay on minor roads. I was thrilled to be driving around with a girl tied up and gagged in the back of my car. What a buzz!
I came up behind a big tractor-trailer. There was some traffic coming the other way, so I couldn't pass. I slowed down and studied the plates and stuff people had written in the dirt on the back of the truck.
"I wonder if that trucker would buy you," I said.
"Mmmm?" Gretel's head came up and her eyes opened wide.
"Those long-haul truckers get lonely on the road. I bet this guy would love to have a pretty girl to keep him company."
"NNNOO WWWAAA."
"Did you know they have a little compartment behind the driver? It's like a small room with a bed. He'd have to keep you tied up and gagged, of course, so you couldn't signal a state trooper or the guys at the weigh station. But you'd be cozy and warm.
Gretel snorted skeptically. But she looked a little worried.
“I bet he's heading for California. I wonder how many days it would take to drive to California. A lot of girls would get claustrophobic being tied up in a small compartment for a couple of days, but not you. You'd just tell yourself stories, right?"
"Nnnnnn," she moaned plaintively and shook her head.
"Maybe I should," I said, as if talking to myself. "I bet she'd love to be a trucker's pet. I could flash my lights and get him to pull over. If I sold her for $200 I could"
"NNNNN!" she wailed.
"Just kidding," I said, reaching back and patting her knee. Gretel gave me the skunk-eye and let her head flop back again.
I drove around for another hour, then found a quiet cornfield in which to release her. I really like gags, so as soon as we were hidden away I took off the dust mask so I could see the cotton cloth pulled through her mouth. Rope by rope I untied her, starting at the ankles, working my way up to her arms. Gretel just sat there passively, as if tired. I left the gag for last. I was apprehensive about what she'd say when the gag came off (that line about selling her to the trucker was a bit much) but to my surprise, my little sister grabbed me and gave me a big hug.
"Thanks, Billy. That was awesome!"
"So you liked that, huh."
"Oh man. You are a nut case, that's for sure." She pulled her hair back and got it arranged and put it up in a ponytail with a rubber band. "You can take me home now," she said, in the princess-y voice I hate.
B.B.
USA
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B.B.'s stories
- 01 - Summer (m/f)
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