02 - Three of us, for laughs
Story index at the bottom
By Lowell
Tuesday, July 8th 2003 - 09:42:53 PM
Three of us, for laughs
When I was twelve and thirteen, I had these two friends, brothers who we'll call Dan And Don (not their real names.) Dan was my age and Don was two years younger. When I would visit their house after school, we often played a tie up game. There were not much in the way of rules. We would play a hand of poker or black jack and low hand got tied. Once tied, the victim had two minutes of free struggling, and if still tied was tickled or pink bellyed, or photographed (we never showed pictures to anyone else) or itched. If you think a feather lightly brushing your nose is a mild or silly torture, try it when you are tied. It is terrible.
Before I go into the main event, those of you who have "tie-up fantasies" know how a parent reacts finding their child tied and tortured. They smile and join in not giving the help we were counting on. That is fantasy. The Brothers' mother did not approve of the game. She tolerated it because she did not think she could stop us, and if she allowed us to play at her house she could keep an eye on us. It was rare, but a few times, when someone was stuck and could not get free for too long, she would break it up and make us untie the victim.
On this day, Dan lost the poker game and got tied up. Don picked how to tie him and went to work. Don put Dan under a small wooden table, tying his two ankles apart to the cross beam near the floor. Taking off Dan's shoes and socks made the future obvious. Next, Dan's hands were tied together in front of him, and the rope was threaded through a support that held the table's legs to the top. For a ten year old, Don tied excellent knots. I know, I had been on the receiving end more than once. Then Don added a gag. We didn't use gags too often, we preferred blindfolds, and we enjoyed hearing each other swear at the torture. For a gag, Don used a small wiffle ball (a plastic ball that is full of holes for breathing) and tied it in place with a bandana. The Don really shocked me. I think my eyes opened wider than Dan's did. Don pulled a pair of real handcuffs out of his pocket. He had to work around the rope to put them on, and listening closely, I could almost make out Dan saying "That's not fair!" though the MMMPs of the gag.
Don started timing as Dan pulled uselessly at his bonds. The two minutes came and went and off we went after Dan's helpless and horribly sensitive feet. Have you ever heard a gagged boy laughing uncontrollably? It wasn't pretty. After a minute or two his mom came in. Don and I both froze. His mom bent a bit to look at her son. Here it came. She looked at his face, and through the gag and his gasping laughter, he was trying to say "handcuffs", but you wouldn't know it unless you knew it. Mom looked at his face and did not bend low enough! she didn't see the cuffs! "Not too much longer now." she warned.
We eagerly returned to poor Dan's feet. I'm sure we got him cussing a blue streak, but we couldn't make out any of it through his gasping laughter. After another couple of minutes him mom came back in. She told us it was enough and time to let him out. We replied that we would right away, and no more tickling for this session. The she took another look and this time she saw them. You could not imagine the rage on her face. She ordered an immediate release and once Don let Dan out, she grabbed the cuffs. She demanded to know where they had come from and Don just kind of stared silently. She confiscated the cuffs which suited me just fine. I had been afraid she would insist on Dan getting some payback. Thankfully not. She didn't say anything to us after that, and soon I left. It's funny. Don was angry and scared at being caught. I was angry at Don for not saying they were his and where he got them. His mom was angry at us for the whole situation, and only poor Dan wasn't angry.
When I got home I had a nasty surprise. Him mom had called my mom, and blamed the handcuffs on me. I told the truth. They weren't mine, and I did not know where they come from. I was not believed and got grounded for two weeks. I would gladly have volunteered to be be tickled in handcuffs twice as long as Dan, compared to the grounding, disbelief and attitude I got from the whole business. That was pretty much the last time we played that game.
Lowell
cgerstma@lausd.k12.ca.us
http://pranks.250x.com
USA
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Lowell's stories
- 01 - Girls Tied Up at My Beach House (f/m, m+/f+)
- 02 - Three of us, for laughs (mm/m)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section